At 64 years old, Woody Hayes famously struck Clemson player Charlie Bauman in the throat following an interception during the 1978 Gator Bowl, an act that remains a notorious example of egregious behavior by a legendary collegiate coach.
When 72-year-old Geno Auriemma aggressively approached Dawn Staley for the post-game handshake at the Final Four on Friday evening, fueled by resentment and misguided perceptions, we should be grateful his staff intervened to prevent an even more regrettable confrontation.
The potential for a Hayes-like incident, one that could have irrevocably stained the distinguished career of a coach with a dozen national titles, was palpable. It is indeed a fortunate outcome for women’s basketball and the broader landscape of college sports that we will never witness such a scenario unfold.
However, the aftermath of UConn’s 62-48 defeat to South Carolina, which concluded their undefeated season, must serve as a stark warning for both Auriemma’s supporters and the UConn administration, which has seemingly grown too lenient regarding the impolite sideline conduct of both its basketball coaches.
If Auriemma’s demeanor continues on this path as he progresses into his mid-70s—characterized by bitterness, pettiness, and aggression toward a rival coach, especially one of the most esteemed women in the sport—this decline should not be permitted to unfold publicly.
One hopes that Auriemma is surrounded by enough sincere individuals to convey this reality: if his actions on Friday night represent his current state in the twilight of his career, if this is how he plans to react to defeat after accumulating 1,288 victories, then serious consideration should be given to stepping aside.
Such an event must not recur. Yet, Auriemma’s subsequent interviews, marked by his defiant attitude, childishness, and refusal to acknowledge a truly shameful moment, are deeply troubling.
South Carolina coach Dawn Staley and UConn coach Geno Auriemma argue after the Gamecocks beat the Huskies. (AP Photo/Rick Scuteri)
(ASSOCIATED PRESS)
Will anyone within UConn possess the resolve and capability to confront Auriemma with this truth? Or will they merely observe, anticipating the next problematic Final Four contest, crossing their fingers and hoping their esteemed coach avoids an outburst that leaves them wishing for earlier intervention, much like the belated admissions from those around Hayes?
We lack insight into, and ought not to speculate on, the psychological state of a man who has dominated this sport for two decades, now witnessing his undefeated squad struggle so severely against a program and coach poised for similar dominance in the coming two decades.
Our knowledge is limited to what was visibly demonstrated, and Auriemma provided ample evidence during his agitated sideline interview with ESPN at the start of the fourth quarter. His profanity, complaints about officials, and direct accusation that Staley was influencing the referees—something he would never do, supposedly—indicated a state beyond mere emotion, despite the inherent passion of the game.
As this behavior extended to the post-game handshake line and subsequent press conference, it became evident that Staley had truly gotten under his skin. Regardless of the convoluted explanations offered, such as Auriemma’s flimsy remarks about pregame handshake etiquette, the undeniable reality is that he harbors an issue with her.
“We don’t have a lot in common,” Auriemma stated to reporters when questioned about their rapport, adding that he respected Staley’s accomplishments at South Carolina while explicitly confirming their lack of personal affinity.
So, what fuels his strong antagonism towards Staley? We can only recall his strained relationship with Pat Summitt when she served as his rival at Tennessee. In that instance, Summitt was equally aggressive, accusing UConn of illicit recruiting methods and ultimately ending their annual competition. However, in his 2009 autobiography, Auriemma penned about Summitt: “Pat receives special treatment from everyone; she’s beyond reproach because she’s Pat.”
One can discern echoes of that identical mindset in Auriemma’s remarks about Staley on Friday night, portraying a 72-year-old man attempting to coach a game while preoccupied with the conviction that she operates with impunity that he himself cannot.
This conduct is peculiar, undignified, and mandates profound self-assessment for both Auriemma and the institution, which risks further blemish if the next incident proves more severe than this one.
Following a night of contemplation, Auriemma did issue an apology statement on Saturday, though it conspicuously omitted Staley’s name. He admitted there was “no excuse for how I handled the end of the game” and that it was “unlike what I do.”
No one is suggesting Auriemma should cheerfully relinquish his authority. His grievances and tenacious resolve have historically contributed to his greatness.
Nonetheless, the fact remains that Staley has thoroughly earned any position or influence he perceives her as usurping. She has the opportunity to claim her fourth national title in nine years on Sunday, and her success in elevating South Carolina into a formidable rival for UConn has been immensely beneficial for women’s basketball.
And this epitomizes a true rivalry: victories and defeats are inherent parts of the journey.
His ungraciousness regarding the situation, his obsession over whether or not she approached him for a handshake, his failure to recognize his own wrongdoing, and his transformation into the central narrative of the Final Four are all deeply regrettable.
For a coach whose immense success should secure his place in the sport’s history, it should be a source of disquiet for those who care about him that, in the intensity of Friday night’s events, he failed to grasp how perilously close he came to squandering his entire legacy.
