Nothing lasts forever, right?
The Diamondbacks played their first spring training game in Tucson 20 years ago this week. That $37 million stadium went dark 13 years later.
The WGC-Accenture Match Play Championship — Tiger Woods! — played its inaugural round on Dove Mountain 11 years ago this week. Not-so-happy anniversary: plenty of tee times available today.
Eighteen years ago this fall, Dick Tomey was asked to resign, two years after he coached Arizona to a 12-1 football season.
When Arizona fired football coach Rich Rodriguez two months ago, former Arizona athletic director Greg Byrne told me “we all have a shelf life.”
You. Me. Sean Miller.
In his time, 8½ seasons at Arizona, Miller has won 77 percent of his games. That’s not being a stand-in for Lute Olson. That’s even better; Olson won 75.9 percent of his games at Arizona and became — what’s the word here? — the great conqueror.
But even Olson’s exit was tempestuous, to say the least.
Nothing lasts forever, especially in sports.
This isn’t to say Miller will be terminated in the next 24 hours or before Arizona can cut down the nets as Pac-12 champions again Saturday night. The school is expected to give some clarity to Miller’s situation Thursday. But it has been given five days to examine the situation and say, “This is all a big mistake; Sean is our guy.”
Nothing like that has been said. The silence is deafening.
This crisis might not create much dread in Tempe or in Pullman, Washington, but those precincts do not hold their college basketball program in reverence the way Tucson does.
This — UA basketball — is what Tucson does best.
Miller has coached Arizona to records of 34-4, 33-5 and 32-5 over the last four seasons, and he could have been elected King here, if there were such a thing.
What we don’t know — and what we may never fully know — is whether Miller’s resolve to get to the Final Four led him to associate with those who disregard NCAA rules and break federal laws. After gathering evidence and listening to the attorneys from both sides, UA president Robert C. Robbins must be a one-man judge and determine the fate of Miller’s coaching career.
Welcome to the big leagues, Mr. Robbins.
If Robbins decides to back his coach, it would be an uphill climb like few others ever managed in college basketball. Arizona’s reputation has been vaporized. Miller would have to jump-start Arizona’s stalled recruiting motor the way Lute Olson did in 1983.
Impossible? It’s as close to impossible as it gets.
If Robbins decides to start over, accept a settlement and ask Miller to leave after a clash of attorneys, Arizona will be laid flat. What Top 25-type coach would agree to replace Miller and be part of the insanity that is now UA basketball?
Neither scenario is promising.
This isn’t the Little League World Series. Those who most seriously oppose Arizona day after day in the Pac-12 — Oregon, UCLA, Utah — spend about $10 million a year on basketball. They pay their coaching staffs millions of dollars and expect 10,000 people to stand and cheer for their team when Arizona arrives in town.
For 35 years, Arizona has been a step ahead of the UCLAs, Utahs and Oregons. Now that would all change.
Because its recruiting class currently contains one player, because Miller took his foot off the recruiting pedal after the FBI stepped into his life six months ago, Arizona’s future — with or without him — is grim.
Arizona earned about $22 million in basketball a year ago, more than double any other Pac-12 team. How many of the 14,644 who fill McKale Center each game will opt out?
How will this coaching decision, this chaos, trickle down and affect the money available to UA softball, swimming and volleyball teams?
Miller should be in the prime of his career. He’s only 49.
Even a colossal sourpuss should hope that Miller gets another chance, whether in Tucson or in a distant area code.
Few ever said the highest-paid person in the state of Arizona system didn’t earn every cent.
After 8½ seasons, most of us have a clear picture. Miller has one obsession: winning basketball games. He has no known hobbies. He does not fish, golf, hike or go to the movies. He is often reluctant to dine at Tucson restaurants, preferring to protect his privacy.
Nobody in the seats at McKale Center complains about Miller’s willful approach to life. It was this type of unyielding commitment that would someday return Arizona to college basketball’s paradisiacal glory, the Final Four.
Now heaven must wait.
