Johnny Dawkins is so intent on demonstrating his commitment to Stanford that he’s using the “r” word.
“This is something I could see myself retiring from,” says Dawkins, who arrived last spring as the new men’s head basketball coach. He’s just 45 and never before has been a head coach. But there are many who think his destiny is predetermined and that it ultimately doesn’t involve Stanford. Another “r” word is involved.
Around the Duke basketball program, says well-known regional sportswriter Bill Brill, Dawkins is regarded nothing less than “reverently.” Dawkins was arguably the most significant player in Duke history when he starred for the Blue Devils in the mid-1980s and had been on the staff of that school’s coaching legend, Mike Krzyzewski, since 1998. If Dawkins is a winner at Stanford, the theory goes, he’ll eventually return to Duke as Krzyzewski’s successor.
Dawkins, who spent nine seasons in the NBA (1986-1995), refers to Krzyzewski simply as “coach,” with no further identification necessary. Early in his tenure at Duke, Krzyzewski recruited Dawkins, who became one of the most celebrated players in college history and foreshadowed the sustained brilliance of the “Coach K” era. When Dawkins became a Duke assistant coach, his relationship with Krzyzewski developed to a point of consummate reliance and trust. When Dawkins left for Stanford, the common assessment was that Krzyzweski had lost his consigliere.
“I can’t say enough good things about the man and what he has done for my career,” says Dawkins, who was director of player personnel for the U.S. Olympic team that Krsyzewski directed to the gold medal last year.
But it doesn’t follow, he insists, that he’s inextricably linked to Duke and merely sojourning on the opposite coast. “This is another chapter in my life, and I’ve tried to explain that a few times,” he says.
More than six months after accepting the Stanford job, his office seemed anything but a testament to permanence. Whatever will be hung on the walls remained boxed or bubble-wrapped on the floor. An extreme neat freak known for impeccably arranged closets, Dawkins was generating an uncharacteristic vibe of clutter. Turns out, there’s a carefully premeditated method to the madness. “I’m trying to get a theme for my walls,” he says. “I don’t want to just punch holes.”
In a sense, the office reflects the issues surrounding men’s basketball: How and when will Dawkins put his stamp on a program unsettled by the sudden resignation of the previous coach, Trent Johnson (now at Louisiana State)? Can Dawkins be as successful (Johnson went 80-48 over four seasons) and will it take a painful transition to overcome the disruption to the team’s continuity and recruiting? Isn’t the future conspicuously uncertain?
“People look at that like it’s a bad thing,” says Dawkins, undaunted. “I look at it as an amazing opportunity.”
The season started with victories, but they also were games that didn’t expose the full extent of the biggest on-court change: the loss of 7-foot twins Brook and Robin Lopez, who went early to the NBA. Now revolving around four seniors—forward Lawrence Hill and guards Mitch Johnson, Anthony Goods and Kenny Brown—the Cardinal beat Yale 75-67 and then advertised its up-tempo potential with a 103-85 win over Cal State-Northridge.
In addition to introducing a faster-paced style of play, Dawkins used the preseason to usher in his particular brand of motivation. During a trip to Monterey for out-of-town practices, he randomly chose players to be roommates, fostering new bonds among the teammates. The trip also enabled Dawkins, who loves “movies that have a message,” to show two films during the bus rides.
One was Remember the Titans, the Denzel Washington flick about high school football players who become inspirationally united despite deep racial obstacles in 1971 Virginia. The message: teamwork.
The other was Russell Crowe’s Gladiator, with an emphasis on the scenes in which the enslaved combatants in the Colosseum must use a group strategy to survive against the Roman fighters. That’s right: same message, circa A.D. 180.
