After he missed a few weightlifting sessions, there was a knock on his apartment door at 4:30 a.m. It was Huggins.
“Get your ass up,” he said.
He took Blount to the Armory Fieldhouse and had him running. Several miles.
“I did that about three times,” Blount recalled, “and then I said, ‘All right, I’m going to start lifting.’”
STARTING OFF WITH A THUD
Not many Division I teams lose preseason exhibition games. But that’s what happened to kick off the 1991-92 season.
Athletes in Action 82, UC 79.
’Nuf said.
The Bearcats blew a 20-point first-half lead, which prompted Huggins to tell the media afterward: “If I were playing miniature golf with my mother, I’d want to bury her. You can’t stop. You’ve got to keep playing. . . . We’re not very good right now. But we will be good. This is a great lesson for us.”
After listening to a Huggins tirade in the locker room for a half hour after the game, many of the players stayed put for another two or three hours. It was that night the Bearcats put their team goals in writing:
• Work hard every day in practice
• Leave the attitude at the door
• Finish 23-4
• Win the Great Midwest Conference regular-season title
• Win the GMC tournament title
• Go to the Elite Eight of the NCAA Tournament
This was a program that had not gone to the NCAA Tournament in 15 years.
HIT ME WITH YOUR BEST SHOT
Before Martin begins, he cautions: “Huggs is going to try to change the way this story goes.”
Now you know it’s going to be good.
It was early in the 1991-92 season, and—this is important to know—Martin felt he was in Huggins’s doghouse. So naturally, he was mad at Huggins, too.
The first official practice, Martin knew he wasn’t in the best shape. Still, he felt everyone was struggling. But when Huggins called the players in for a huddle, he got all over Martin. “He pretty much cursed me out for about five minutes. I had a real bad practice that day. Everything was new as far as drills and all that. I kept thinking, why is he picking on me? Corie and Nick didn’t have a great practice, either. It wasn’t so much that he was singling me out, but he felt like I had more in me than I was giving that day.”
During practice another day, a Bearcat drove for a layup and the defender didn’t bother to take a charge. That, of course, enraged Huggins.
“That’s it,” the coach shouted. “We’re going to do the charge drill. I’m going to take the charge. Now who wants to go first?”
Martin was prepared to flatten any teammate who did not let him get to the front of the line. “I was going first,” Martin said. “I was going to run over Huggs.”
He took one dribble. Two dribbles. Then Martin picked up the ball, put his head down and started running at Huggins “like a football player.”
“And Huggs turns,” Martin said with a grin. “He takes the charge, but he’ll swear to this day he stood in there. He turned his body, man. He knew I was going to plow through him. I knocked him down, ripped his pants a little. Then he got up and said, ‘That’s the way you take a charge. Now go shoot free throws.’ He stopped the drill right there. At first, he was going to take a charge on everyone on the team. After he got up, he went and talked to the trainer.”
“He thinks that’s really funny,” Huggins said. Then turning serious, he added, “But I think that’s good. Then they understand that I’ve never asked them to do anything I would not do.”
HIGHS AND LOWS
If Michigan State had recruited Buford out of Flint (Michigan) Central High School, he would’ve seriously considered joining the Spartans. But Buford heard that then-coach Jud Heathcote told people he was too small.
So when it was time for the Bearcats to play at Michigan State on December 21, 1991, Buford was “all jacked up.” Close to 20 friends and family members were in the stands. The Spartans were ranked No. 12 in the nation. Both teams were unbeaten. “Don’t hurt us too bad,” Heathcote said to Buford before the game.
“He really had no idea what was coming,” Buford said. “I was hot when I stepped off the plane, and it never stopped.”
It was the eighth game of Buford’s UC career, and it was one of his best. He scored 29 points on eight-of-14 shooting. The Bearcats were ahead by 18 with 12:30 remaining.
Everything was going so well. Until the end.
UC led by just two points in the final seconds. Buford ran to double-team one of the Spartans and left his man wide open. The pass went to MSU reserve guard Kris Weshinskey in the corner, and he nailed a three-pointer with 4.6 seconds left. “That mistake probably cost us the game,” Buford said.
The Bearcats had one final possession. Buford had the ball, got inside the foul line, a mere 12 feet from the basket, launched the kind of jump shot he had practiced all the time in high school and . . . the ball hit the rim and bounced away.
Michigan State 90, UC 89.
“We got exactly the shot we wanted,” Huggins said afterward.
“I went through a range of emotions,” Buford said. “I felt so good at the beginning of the game and so bad at the end.”
It was after that game that Huggins took off his Rolex watch and hurled it at a blackboard in the locker room, breaking the blackboard and watch. Little diamonds fell onto the floor. Nobody moved, then he said: “I hope you all have a miserable Christmas.”
WHO’S GOT MY BACK?
After two days off, the team returned for a Christmas Day practice that lasted five hours.
A few days later, during another intense practice, Huggins got upset with Gibson and told him to get off the court.
“No,” Gibson said. “This is my team.”
He gave the ball to A.D. Jackson and told him to start running a play. “A.D., pick up the ball,” Huggins said. “Tarrance, get off the floor.”
Gibson wouldn’t leave. Huggins was getting angrier. Jackson didn’t know what to do. Martin whispered to Blount: “If he gets into it with Tarrance, we’re going to jump him.”
“We weren’t really going to do it, but we were getting our nerve up to say something to him,” Blount said.
“C’mon A.D., let’s go,” Gibson yelled.
“OK, I’m going to say it one more time,” Huggins shouted, “If Tarrance doesn’t get off the floor, we’re going to put the balls away and we’re going to run for the next three hours.”
Herb Jones looked at Huggins, then at Gibson. “Tarrance, you’ve got to get off the floor, man! You’ve got to go.”
“We weren’t about to run for anybody,” Blount said.
Gibson left the court, and the players started laughing.
QUICK EXIT
Nelson felt like he had some good practices leading up to UC’s January 8 game at Tennessee, whose star player was Allan Houston. Early in the game, Nelson told some teammates: “I can feel it; I’m going to have a great game today.” He was thinking four or five charges, seven or eight rebounds.
Huggins called his name, and Nelson jumped off the bench and pulled off his warmups. He always wore elbow pads, which were pulled down when he was on the bench. Nelson was going to inbound the ball and figured he’d do that, then pull up his elbow pads.
Well, his teammate took the pass and threw the ball right back to him. The Tennessee defender was hand-checking Nelson, pushing at his hip, and Nelson’s foot moved. He was called for traveling.
Huggins immediately yanked Nelson after a three-second appearance.
“I didn’t even have time to pull my elbow pad up,” Nelson said. “Corie was coming to get me and he’s cracking up laughing. That’s all I played the whole game.”
His name didn’t even show up in the official box score in the newspaper the next day.
THE GUARANTEE
UC had just beaten Alabama-Birmingham 76-52 on January 25, 1992, at Shoemaker Center, and Nelson was in the h
allway outside the media room with former Cincinnati Post reporter Bill Koch, who was asking about the Bearcats’ next game—against Xavier.
“How do you think you guys are going to do in the Crosstown Shootout?” Koch asked.
“Xavier doesn’t have a chance,” Nelson said. “We should blow them out.”
The next day, Nelson’s phone started ringing around 7:30 a.m. A few radio stations wanted him to do live interviews. He was half asleep, answering questions about Xavier and making jokes. He loved the attention.
Of course, he had not seen a newspaper yet.
The phone rang again. Nelson was thinking it was another interview request.
“Get your ass in my office in five minutes.” It was Huggins calling from his cell phone.
When Nelson arrived, Huggins was sitting behind his desk with his glasses on. “Any time he has his glasses on, that means he’s been up all night watching tape,” Nelson said.
“How does a guy, who averages three points and two rebounds, have the nerve to make predictions that we’re going to blow somebody out?” Huggins asked.
He held up the newspaper. Nelson’s mouth dropped open. He started making excuses, claiming the interview was off the record. It wasn’t, of course.
“Why would you even say something so stupid?” Huggins said. “Now you’re going to give them bulletin board material. You’re going to fire them up. I don’t even think we’re good enough to beat these guys.”
Reporters in town were waiting for the Bearcats before practice. Van Exel started talking about how UC was going to win because Xavier’s Aaron Williams and the other post players were soft.
About 30 minutes into practice, Blount twisted his ankle and was carried off the floor.
“There goes our 6-10 post guy getting carted off like a slab of meat and you’re saying their post guys are soft!” Huggins yelled.
“You’re paranoid,” Van Exel shouted back.
Huggins kicked Van Exel out of practice.
Van Exel didn’t start the game the next night. Xavier full-court pressed, which worked to UC’s advantage. The Bearcats won 93-75.
Afterward, Huggins put him arm around Nelson and said, “Now, why don’t you retire undefeated with your predictions?”
IS THE FIX IN?
Huggins rarely got on Herb Jones. Jones was a quiet player who let his game do the talking. He worked on his game constantly and is perhaps one of the most underrated players in school history even though he was an honorable mention All-American in 1992.
UC took a 19-3 record into a February 20, 1992, game against DePaul at The Shoe. The Bearcats had won eight in a row. This night, however, they struggled—and nobody more than Jones, who finished four of 13 from the field with just nine points.
Huggins was ranting and raving in the locker room afterward. Jones sat with his head down.
“I don’t know what to think about you,” Huggins shouted at Jones. “Are you point shaving, Herb?”
Jones slowly raised his head and looked stunned. “What?” he said.
“It takes a lot to really make me mad,” Jones said. “I was fuming mad. I was mad when he said it to me, and I was mad at myself, too. That was probably the worst game of my life. To this day, I don’t know why I played so bad. From time to time, I think about that game. That was a real low moment for me.”
Several of the players remained in the locker room until 2 a.m. talking. Whatever they said struck a cord. The Bearcats won their next 10 games and didn’t lose again until the NCAA Tournament semifinals.
TAKE THAT
Two nights after the DePaul loss, Jones put on a display at South Alabama that even had his teammates shaking their heads.
He scored 17 consecutive points during a four-minute stretch of a 104-78 victory. He finished with 27 points on nine-of-13 shooting to go with eight rebounds.
“I was telling myself I had to play better,” Jones said. “I had to do more things to help the team win. I guess I was in a zone. I didn’t even know it.”
“That was something I couldn’t believe,” Buford said. “Herb loved playing on the road. He loved those hostile situations. He loved raising up and hitting that three and watching everybody go silent.”
YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIDDING?
UC was warming up before its March 7, 1992 game at Memphis when Jones followed a ball that had rolled off the court beyond the baseline. The crowd was close to the court, and when Jones picked up the ball, he came face to face with a rowdy Tigers fan.
“He looked at me, and I said, ‘How you doing?’” Jones said.
The man responded by screaming: “F—you. We hate you. You guys are always beating us.”
Jones couldn’t help it. He started laughing.
As it turns out, the man was right. UC beat Memphis that day 69-59 and would later defeat the Tigers—led by Anfernee Hardaway—in the Great Midwest Tournament and the NCAA Tournament.
A TEXAS (EL PASO) STANDOFF
UC was two victories from the Final Four and meeting Texas-El Paso in the Midwest Regional semifinals in Kansas City. UTEP was unranked; the Bearcats were No. 12 in the country. But the game turned out to be a nail-biter.
Nick Van Exel averaged 12.3 points and 18.3 points during his two seasons at UC. He was third-team Associated Press All-America as a senior in 1993, and was a second-round draft pick of the Los Angeles Lakers. Van Exel played 13 years in the NBA for six teams. He was an All-Star in 1998 and had a career-high 23 assists against Vancouver in January 1997. He finished his NBA career with 12,658 points and 5,777 assists. (Photo by Lisa Ventre/University of Cincinnati)
This didn’t help.
Van Exel had picked up a loose ball and fired a pass to a wide-open Jeff Scott, who missed the ball right by the UC basket. It went out of bounds. Huggins started yelling at Van Exel: “Don’t pass him the ball anymore. He doesn’t want the ball.” Van Exel was shouting back: “He was wide open. Shut up.” Huggins yanked Van Exel from the game and sat him on the bench.
With two free throws on its next possession, UTEP pulled within 60-57 with 7:44 left.
Blount was getting nervous. “It’s getting close again. Let Nick back in the game,” he told Huggins.
“(Forget) that!” Van Exel said. “I’m transferring! I’m going to New Mexico State next year.”
“That’s right,” Huggins yelled. “He doesn’t want to play. He wants to transfer. He can get out of here right now.”
Assistant coach John Loyer kept saying, “I think you need to put Nick back in the game.”
“No,” Huggins said. “He’s not ready.”
“I don’t care if I go back in the game anyway,” Van Exel said.
It was 62-59 with 4:12 remaining. Herb Jones was fouled and went to the line.
Blount, the mediator, was pleading with both parties. “Nick, come on, you’ve got to get back out there. Will you shut up? . . . Huggs, man, talk to him.”
“Do you want to play?” Huggins asked Van Exel.
Van Exel didn’t say a word. “Let’s just go win the game and we’ll discuss this afterwards,” Huggins said.
Jones missed his first free throw. Van Exel checked back into the game for A.D. Jackson. Jones made his second foul shot to make it 63-59.
UTEP would pull within two points twice in the final minute but couldn’t catch the Bearcats.
“We wouldn’t have won that game without Nick,” Nelson said.
CELEBRITIES UNCENSORED
Gibson wanted a way to remember the experience of going to the NCAA Tournament, so he asked a friend and former roommate from Cleveland whether he could borrow his video camera to record a sendoff at Shoemaker Center.
The friend didn’t see the video camera again until that summer.
“It never left my hand,” Gibson said. “I had that camera the entire tournament.”
In the final minutes of UC’s Midwest Regional final victory over Memphis in Kansas City, Gibson asked a student manager to go to the locker room to get t
he camera.
“I wanted to film the moment,” Gibson said. “He brought it back with about 50 seconds left. I went up to Huggs after the game was over and said, ‘How do you feel about going to the Final Four?’”
“It’s a long way from Dothan, ain’t it, Tarrance?” Huggins responded with a smile.
Gibson interviewed media members and teammates and kept that up all the way through the Final Four in Minneapolis.
TRASH TALK 101
As national media members descended upon Cincinnati to learn about the upstart Bearcats, six-foot-five Terry Nelson kept getting questions about how he was going to guard 6-9 Chris Webber, Michigan’s star player who was also 20-some pounds heavier.
“My goal is not to let him dunk on me,” Nelson said. “I don’t know how long it’ll last. On the break, that’s a different story. But, in the halfcourt, if he gets a rebound, he’ll be laying on the floor before he dunks on me.”
Nelson and Webber had never met—until right before the NCAA semifinals.
The UC players were shooting free throws and Webber came right up next to Nelson on the foul line. “Aren’t you the one who said you’re going to take me out? That I’m not dunking on you?”
“That’s right,” Nelson said.
“Man, don’t you know this is your last game?” Webber said.
“No, this is your last game,” Nelson replied.
The banter continued and included other players.
Webber kind of smirked and went back to the other side of the court.
Once the game started, Webber struck first with a half-hook shot over Nelson for the first points. Buford missed a three-pointer on UC’s next possession. Webber rebounded it, then tried to dribble. Nelson stole the ball just above the top of the three-point arc and went in for an uncontested dunk. The game was tied 2-2.
As he ran back down the court, Nelson bumped Webber and said, “Now it’s your turn.”
“He said, ‘Oh, you got me that time,’” Nelson said. “We talked the entire game. Normally, any team that talked trash to us, we got them out of their game. They were the only team that talked trash and won.”
Afterward, Webber—who finished with 16 points and 11 rebounds—gave Nelson a hug and said, “You all are fun. Nobody ever talks trash to us. You’re a good team. I like you all; let’s go hang out.”
Tales from the Cincinnati Bearcats Locker Room Page 15