Short on court, long on discipline

Sam Morris

UNLV basketball coach Lon Kruger is described by his players as tough but fair. “It’s just a look,” assistant coach Steve Henson says. “You know when he’s upset.”

By Rob Miech (contact)

Tuesday, March 11, 2008 | 2 a.m.

His face reddens, the brow furrows and the jaw juts. His eyes water a bit. The tone of his voice becomes serious. He means business.

Even as those white-hot warning signs flash from Lon Kruger, center Emmanuel Adeife keeps challenging the UNLV basketball coach.

Miffed over his sparse role in a season-opening victory against Montana State, Adeife continues to boil in the locker room as Kruger addresses his players.

Adeife rises. Kruger tells him to stay put. Adeife enters the shower. His career as a Rebel evaporates.

“The worst scenario where I’ve seen Coach very mad,” senior guard Rene Rougeau says. “A shock to all of us. No one had ever disrespected Coach Kruger like that.”

Players cross that line at their peril. Three did this season, and that’s why the Rebels’ roster has a few holes in it this week at the Mountain West conference tournament.

The most glaring hole is down low, where the 6-foot-10 Adeife likely would have received ample time. Instead, 6-7 Joe Darger has fended off foes 4 and 5 inches taller, and plenty of pounds heavier, all season. And Kruger, who has guided his team to a 23-7 record, was named the conference’s coach of the year Monday.

UNLV assistant coach Steve Henson knows what it’s like to draw Kruger’s ire. When he played for Kruger at Kansas State, Henson never ran afoul off the court.

On it, he ran the Wildcats as their point guard. When the team broke a huddle out of a timeout and the next play or two didn’t go as scripted, Henson cringed when he glanced over at Kruger.

He still feels the Kruger look occasionally in UNLV huddles.

“It gets me riled up,” Henson says. “It’s just a look. You know when he’s upset. Most of the players figure it out. Some will play their entire career and not quite get it.”

Once a leap year, a cuss word might leave Kruger’s mouth. That’s how often observers have heard him utter a four-letter word in practice during his four years at UNLV.

“It’s a bad deal if one ever slips out,” Henson says. “You know something bad has happened.”

Kruger, 55, learned about the effects of a coach’s countenance when he played at Kansas State under the strict Jack Hartman, whose glare bore holes in steel and made little kids run.

“I didn’t like to see that look out of coaches either,” Kruger says with a smile. “Coaches have a certain level of expectation for each player. If a guy doesn’t live up to that, you try to get that point across.

“That look from a parent or teacher is the same thing.”

According to former Kansas coach Ted Owens, Hartman learned that menacing stare from the legendary Henry Iba, who coached Hartman at Oklahoma A&M.

Owens, 78, laughs over the phone from his Tulsa investment firm when he thinks about it.

“Well, it was a penetrating look,” he says. “Jack was a no-nonsense guy. But his players had incredible respect for him. Still called him ‘Mr.’ after all those years.”

The indelible image of Kruger in a Kansas State uniform is of a tenacious, snarling defender.

“One tough competitor,” Owens says. “His attitude infects his squads.”

Kruger, though, is no Jack Hartman, whose rules applied to everyone equally, without exception.

At UNLV, there are exceptions. Each Rebel is responsible for his own actions. Kruger tailors his expectations to each player’s ability, history and performance.

Communication is constant. Press Kruger and he doesn’t get angry or blow up in public. He pulls the offender aside for some private words.

“Rarely will a guy be caught off guard with anything that happens in our program, because Coach talks to them so much,” Henson says. “When guys have made mistakes, it’s pretty obvious and simple, sometimes sad.”

Adeife violated a major rule with his selfishness. That night, senior guard Curtis Terry keyed the victory against Montana State with a sterling second half, but Adeife’s petulance became the headline.

If you’re not a team player, Kruger doesn’t have room for you.

“Manny went overboard,” junior guard Wink Adams says. “A couple days later, Manny felt like what he did was too overboard. But it was too late.”

Well-traveled swingman Lamar Roberson showed he couldn’t handle challenges or stability. He was disciplined in December and left school over the holidays.

Sources behind the scenes said Kruger was most disappointed that Roberson didn’t learn that quitting sets a bad pattern in life.

“It was a matter of setting standards for himself,” Kruger says. “He had raised them. He just couldn’t sustain it.”

Point guard Marcus Lawrence, a Las Vegas native, was booted from the team after getting arrested for driving under the influence last month.

“He was a big part of what we do,” Henson says. “He poured his heart and soul into it. Unfortunately, now he can’t finish it here.”

Kruger confirms that Adeife, Lawrence and Roberson were given multiple chances — three or four, if not more — to prove themselves.

Ultimately, it’s on the players, Rougeau says, not Kruger.

“He’s loyal, he tells you exactly what you need to do, and he makes you a better player and person,” Adams says. “To cross him? I’ve seen people get into that spot. I don’t want to.”