Sitting on the bench for the final seconds of the most famous postseason run in Arizona basketball history, Bennett Davison sought out teammates Josh Pastner and John Ash for a little advice.
Should he, or shouldn’t he?
The Wildcats were on the verge of knocking off a third No. 1 seed, Kentucky, to win the NCAA national title and Davison, the team’s supremely athletic power forward and No. 1 goofball, said Pastner told him he “needed to do something to ‘Coach O.’”
But not that.
“I was like, ‘Well, his hair is always in perfect position. It never moves,’” Davison said. “I mean, we had ‘Coach Olson Hair Helmets.’ And he was kind of idolized around Tucson as the mayor, the senator, the governor. He kind of transcended all of those hierarchical positions.
“So I said, ‘What if I go mess up his hair? Josh was like ‘No, no, no, don’t do that.’ Josh was kind of a square. He didn’t drink caffeine. Never drank alcohol. And John Ash was like ‘Do it, do it, do it!’”
Well, that last part is under dispute.
“I do not remember that,” Ash said, chuckling. “I do not remember that. I don’t want to take any blame for that one.”
Any hesitance from Pastner or Ash was understandable, of course. With his active players, Olson kept a distance. He was the stern teacher routinely patrolling the sidelines cross-armed, with navy sport coat, dress pants, tie and, most notably, his well-coiffed ’do.
You did not want to mess with him. Nobody did.
“Are you kidding me?” says Pastner, now the head coach at Georgia Tech. “When he walked in the gym, when he walked into any place, anywhere, it was like he was a movie star. He was so perfectly dressed. He was 6-4 and well-built. And his hair was combed perfectly and it was silver. It was just like the signature part.”
Combine that with the fact that Pastner describes himself as a “rule follower,” and you understand his viewpoint. And if Ash really did have any reluctance that might be understandable, too — he was a former Wildcat ball boy turned walk-on guard who basically grew up watching the silver-haired legend bring Tucson alive through basketball.
“I was 9 in ’86, 10 in ’87 and that ’87-88 season is imprinted on me as detailed as any other season,” Ash said about Olson’s first Final Four team at Arizona. “The No. 1 T-shirts were being sold on every corner of central Tucson, and after every game the energy of the city was just increasing and increasing. The excitement was just off the chart.”
The excitement turned to despair when Oklahoma knocked off Arizona 86-78 in the national semifinals, but the wound eventually healed. There were still many good memories ahead, in NCAA Tournaments and in marquee regular season matchups alike.
“I’ll never forget that Oklahoma game,” Ash said. “I remember just being sick to my stomach after that. I think I might even have just stayed home from school for a couple days from just being sick. Everyone was so invested in that team. And then from there, I was just like every other Tucsonan. I was a superfan.”
So, whatever happened in that sideline discussion, Ash could be forgiven if he was conflicted. Did he really just encourage Davison to do the unthinkable, in front of national television cameras, just as Olson was approaching Kentucky coach Rick Pitino to start the handshake line?
Pastner is pretty sure of it.
“John said, ‘Do it.’ I said, ‘Don’t do it,’” Pastner said. “Bennett did it.”
In retrospect, why not? It was fitting.
Now a teacher and a coach in the Dallas area, Davison says he realizes that beneath Olson’s exterior, even he could appreciate a light moment or two.
After all, those light moments just might have helped the Wildcats make that 1997 run in the first place.
“Me, Josh and John, we’re all just big goofy kids,” Davison said. “The night before the championship game, we had a food fight, and Coach Roz (assistant Jim Rosborough) was like ‘Hey, do you want me to stop this?’ And ‘Coach O’ was like, ‘No; just let them be kids. Let us take on the pressure because there’s a lot going on right now.’”
Over 23 years later, Davison still finds his hair-tussling scheme has stuck with him. He said people still ask him about it and, when he once asked Olson to the stage at a fundraising event, noticed Olson’s wife, Kelly, in the background saying, “Don’t do it. Don’t do it, Bennett.”
Davison didn’t do it then. But he did do it that night in Indianapolis, in a few seconds that will last forever in Arizona basketball lore.
“I just ran over there and did it before he shook Coach Pitino’s hand,” Davison said, “and now I’m famous for only that.”