Ron Kantowski on the Rebels’ Lon and Kevin Kruger, one of the feel-good stories coming out of this year’s NCAA tournament

By Ron Kantowski (contact)

Thursday, March 22, 2007 | 7:11 a.m.

St. Louis

If you're like me, you probably have a favorite memory of your father - playing catch with him when he came home from the mill, sitting next to him at a big league ballgame or maybe even sitting next to him on a bar stool on your 21st birthday, when the first beer was on him.

Maybe you even have a pleasant memory of your old man that applies to the NCAA basketball tournament. The second-to-last time I saw my dad was at the 1991 Final Four in Indianapolis. Duke was playing Kansas in the championship game.

At halftime, I remember taking my old man, who was sitting about 20 rows behind one of the baskets, a chocolate chip cookie from the press room. We said goodbye then, because he had to be at work the next day and I had to catch a plane. At the end of the game, as he was leaving, he gave me one those clenched-fists salutes that said he was proud of me, even though I hadn't made a single basket.

In that way, I have something in common with UNLV's Kevin Kruger, because last Thursday against Georgia Tech in the Rebels' first-round NCAA game in Chicago, he didn't make a single basket, either.

But you could tell his old man, sitting next to him in the postgame press conference, was proud. Not just for the way he handled himself after going 0-for-8 from the field but, I am quite certain, for so many other things that will never be chronicled in a box score.

Lon Kruger shook the hands of Michael Umeh and Wink Adams, the other Rebels who had been answering questions, as they headed for the locker room. With Kevin, it was a little different. There was an awkward gesture, sort of a cross between a handshake and a light punch on the shoulder, and then a reassuring glance from Lon, who, back in the day, had missed a shot or two for Kansas State when he was Kevin's age.

It's too bad Lon had to stick around to answer questions. You could almost envision him draping his arm around Kevin's shoulder and offering him a Life Saver.

By now, you know the rest of the story. That less than 48 hours after he couldn't hit the broad side of the Sears Tower with his jump shot, Kevin Kruger started stuffing the basket as if it were the ballot box and Mayor Richard J. Daley were running for reelection.

Kruger hit all three of his 3-pointers down the stretch and all three free throws while being fouled on a fourth to spark UNLV past mighty Wisconsin and into the Sweet 16 here, where the Rebels will try to slay another giant, this one wearing a duck costume.

UNLV and Oregon will square off at 6:40 p.m. Friday as the Edward Jones Dome will serve as the setting for yet another father and child reunion featuring the Krugers.

Their names are Lon, Barb, Kevin and Angie. They might as well be Ward, June, Wally and Beaver, although Angie Kruger, Kevin's older sister, is certainly more becoming, as Eddie Haskell might put it, than The Beav.

They are the quintessential American family - yes sir, no sir, thank you, ma'am. If not for Lon's profession , which keeps the family crisscrossing the country, you would expect to find them living in a home with a picket fence at Pine Street and Maple Drive in Mayfield. In black and white, of course.

Oh, every now and then, Kevin can be a bit of a rascal. There was that time in the Reno game when he got into the face of one of his teammates, or last weekend, when he told one of the Chicago writers that UNLV didn't do much to change its image by hiring some of the guys who succeeded Jerry Tarkanian as coach. But that's probably about as close to a negative word as you'll get out of him.

On a conference call with reporters this week - and I swear I'm not making this up - Kevin said he went out to his folks' home Monday night to play with the family dog. Then he and Lumpy Rutherford stopped for a soda.

Lon Kruger, on the same hand, is so unerringly polite that his shoes should have "Goody" and "Two" written on the soles. If you watch real closely, after a bad call goes against the Rebels, you might catch him saying, "Aw, shucks" to the zebra trailing the play when nobody's paying attention. You know, so as not to embarrass the official and his family.

Lon and Kevin are fast becoming one of the feel-good stories of the tournament that really doesn't have a lot of them, now that most of the Cinderellas from the mid-major conferences are back scrubbing floors. But they are careful to mention the other Rebels whenever one is asked about what a special memory this season has become.

As for Friday's game against Oregon, there are two assumptions to be made.

The first is that the Rebels are going to show up ready to play.

The second is that don't be surprised if Lon tells Kevin to get a haircut, because he's looking a little shaggy around the ears.