Father-son Pitinos a lot alike as basketball coaches, but different

AGUADILLA, PUERTO RICO – Ever since Richard Pitino stepped into his father's realm, the outside world has doted on their similarities.

The son has his father's name. He has his Long Island accent, despite a childhood of bouncing around. He has his demeanor. His mannerisms. And then came the tie of all ties: He has his father's profession.

Of Hall of Fame coach Rick Pitino's five children, only Richard, the middle sibling, was passionate and bold enough to dip his toes in the pool that made his father so famous and so successful.

Now, as young Pitino begins to grapple his own success — coming off an NIT championship in his first year at the helm of Minnesota — he steps into the ultimate comparison: face to face, on opposite sidelines, competing on a national stage for the first victory of the college basketball season.

Rick's Louisville Cardinals and Richard's Gophers will face off in an airplane hangar at a U.S. Coast Guard base in Aguadilla, Puerto Rico, on Friday evening for the second Pitino vs. Pitino duel ever, and the most important one to date.

In many ways, they will have prepared their teams similarly. Both will have relied heavily on their assistants for a game plan and scouting. Speaking to their players, both will describe the other's team as a squad built from NBA All-Stars. And when the game starts, both will feature a pressing defense and a transition-oriented offense.

But beyond the style points and strategy handed from one generation to the next are two individuals with two different personalities and two different lives.

Rick has been a head coach for 36 years. His method is tried and true: What he says, goes. Richard, meanwhile, is entering just his third season as a head coach. His presence doesn't invoke the same awe that his father's does.

Richard: "He's 30 years older than me. He's accomplished a whole lot more than me. It's a major mistake on the court to try to act like him, because players aren't going to look at me like that. We could say the exact same thing and certainly it's going to resonate much more when he says than when I say it, and that's the way it should be. ... I need to come at them at a different angle than he does. ... Sometimes it's softer. I am in the age of social media. Understanding that. He doesn't do that, he doesn't even pay attention to that. So I think that part of it, the pressure part of it and I'm a young head coach that's very unproven. So I can relate to them in that stuff, where I mean, he's in the Hall of Fame. He'll do it his way for as long as he wants. I've got to establish my career. So I need to do that differently. His presence is going to motivate guys a little bit differently than mine is."

Richard's Minnesota office photos are a giveaway that father and son have mutual off-court interests. Here they are at the race track. There, the pair are golfing. Over the summer, after a particularly good beatdown on the green, Richard patted his dad on the bum and told him to "get used to it."

Rick: "I walked away and said, 'What did he mean by that?' Did he mean golf, or other sports as well?' "

Friday night could be revealing in that regard.

Richard: "I think owning a horse is one of the biggest wastes of money on the planet. I feel some ownership when I bet on a horse. That's enough ownership for me. I'm fine with moving past that horse." And regarding his dad's stocks interest, he shook his head. "I've got no idea. I don't even check my paycheck half the time."

Dad was quick with an explanation for that, though.

Rick: "I don't think Richard is paid enough money by Minnesota to be into stocks," he said with a grin.

Rick has a reputation for his animated fury during games. Richard once joked that his greatest concern as an assistant coach at Louisville was getting hit by Dad's saliva. The son is closer to the opposite: understated, with the exception of an occasional jacket toss.

Richard: "I actually think I'm very, very calm on the sidelines. What I've learned at a very young age, you've got to get to the point on the court where you're most comfortable thinking. You see, that's why so many coaches act so differently. And that, for me, I'm always thinking on the sidelines. He certainly is thinking too, but he can operate in a different way mentally during the game, unlike me.

On handling wins and losses

Rick's fondness for basking after a victory was passed on to Richard. Both like to take people out, find a steak and a bottle of wine, and perhaps light a cigar. But losses come a little differently. Richard remembers the childhood days when his father came home from a loss and he, and everyone else in the house, scrambled to get out of the way. As a head coach himself, he said he's more about solitude than fury.

Richard: "He's a maniac after losses."

Richard did add that his dad has mellowed a bit over the years.

On growing up Pitino

Thirty years later, his son faces an opposite challenge. Richard is also trying to make his own way — and be his own man — under the massive, unavoidable umbrella his last name has become. Richard knows some people instantly hate him upon meeting him — Texas associate coach Rob Lanier, who worked with the younger Pitino as an assistant at Florida, told him that directly.

Richard: "I understand that people automatically, if they see that's Rick Pitino's son, they're going to assume something. A famous person's son, who's got money, who's had success, all those things. I understand that. And it is what it is. I'm not changing that stereotype. But being Rick Pitino's son at 32 years old in Minnesota, there is going to be probably a lot more scrutiny than there was at his age, when he was that young. So I understand that and I have to deal with that."

Rick: "A name is never going to help anyone win or lose a basketball game. He's had certain privileges, growing up in a basketball family, and he's also had a lot of hardships growing up in a basketball family, because you don't win every game."