The first time Larry Eustachy met the Utah State basketball team, it wasn't exactly love at first sight. Eustachy walked into the room to address his players, and there they were: hats on backward, slouched in their seats, feet propped up on chairs, eyes askance, bandanas in place, attitude coming out of their ears.
"How long's this meeting gonna last?" one player asked. "I got a plane to catch.""Not long for you," Eustachy replied. "It's over."
Just like that, Eustachy had made his first cut after just minutes on the job. By the time the meeting was finished and the new coach had established the new law in no uncertain terms, it was clear that things were going to be dramatically different.
Too different for some. Another player quit the team in the coming days. And another. And another. Five players quit before the season even began. Eustachy wanted to join the exodus himself. He was so disillusioned with what he saw in that first meeting that he would have run back to Idaho if not for a newly signed contract.
But Eustachy is nothing, if not persistent and determined. After all, we're talking about a guy who once slept on floors and waited tables just to get a chance to break into the coaching business. And aren't the Aggies glad.
Nothing has been quite the same at USU since that first meeting just two years ago. The crowds are back, the boosters are happy and the Aggies are winning. Last Saturday night, the Aggies won their 21st game of the season (against six losses) and claimed their first conference championship since 1980, after which Eustachy pronounced, "This is big."
To appreciate how big, you must realize that in the nine years prior to Eustachy's arrival, the Aggies had had one winning season. Eustachy has had two of them in as many tries. Last year the Aggies were 14-13 and won eight of their last nine games to claim second place in the Big West.
Through the sheer force of his considerable personality and energy, one man has made a dramatic difference. Asked if Eustachy has more resources to work with than his predecessors, Athletic Director Chuck Bell says, "Virtually none."
Nor has he had even the luxury of using his predecessor's players. Eustachy unwittingly saw to that. He says there are two approaches to take with a new coaching job. "You can tear down the whole house and start over or keep the door and the frame because it still works and build on that," he explains. "That's how I chose to do it."
Maybe that's how he tried to do it, but basically he tore down the house. Only three players remain whom he didn't recruit, and only two of them are factors this season. The rest of the players that he inherited are gone. Eustachy's hard-driving, confrontational coaching style isn't for everyone. Eight players have left the team - including two superb talents in Rod Hay and Bryon Ruffner - since he's been there, but only one of them was a player he recruited. The players Eustachy recruits apparently know what they are getting when they sign to play for him.
And what they are getting is a coach who is part drill sergeant, part stand-up comic, part disciplinarian, part PR man and part taskmaster. All these things have combined to make Eustachy, at 39, one of the nation's rising young coaches.
"I haven't even been here quite 24 months," says Eustachy, marveling at USU's quick turnaround. "This is much sooner than I anticipated."
The making of Eustachy into a head coach took much longer. He calls himself an old 39, because he already has been a coach for 20 years. A self-described "terrible" player at Citrus junior college in Glendora, Calif., he turned instead to coaching. As an assistant at Citrus, he attended class and coached for the next four years, hoping to break into the Division 1 ranks.
There are two ways to break into the major college coaching profession: connections and major college playing experience. Eustachy had neither, so he made his own connection. One day he drove to the home of Bob Boyd, a former USC head coach who was about to take the head job at Mississippi State, and volunteered to be his assistant coach, for free. Single and 25, Eustachy could afford to work as an unpaid volunteer assistant.
"You have to get on the board to play checkers," he says.
Boyd was skeptical and refused to commit to Eustachy. Eustachy persisted with phone calls and visits. Finally, he drove 2,000 miles from Los Angeles to Starkville, Miss., to attend Boyd's summer basketball camp, and Boyd relented.
"If you want to come to Starkville and be a gofer you're welcome," he said.
Eustachy moved in with Boyd and his wife, Betty, took a job as a waiter and performed odd jobs for the MSU coaches. He picked up their laundry, got their cars out of long term parking and assisted in practice. Under NCAA rules, a university cannot spend a cent on a volunteer, so Eustachy drove his own car to road games, sometimes 12 hours one way, and slept on someone's floor or couch. He outworked and outhustled everyone. His motto was: first guy to the office, last guy to leave it.
"I remember just sitting there waiting for Boyd to leave so I could go home," he says. "I wanted to get in a position where he couldn't say no, and I think I did."
After two years, Boyd promoted the 27-year-old Eustachy to fulltime, Division 1 assistant. He held the job five years, and then took a rapid succession of jobs elsewhere. He was an assistant at Idaho for one year, then at Utah for two years and Ball State for one year. At 35, he landed his first head coaching job, at Idaho, and stayed three years before taking the USU position.
"I was 110 percent sure I knew what I was doing when I became a head coach," he says. "Two or three years earlier I wouldn't have been ready. I needed the experience. The biggest problem with coaches is that they don't have a philosophy."
Eustachy formulated his own philosophy while working for a variety of coaches - Boyd, Rick Majerus (now at Utah), Tim Floyd (Iowa State), Kermit Davis (formerly at Idaho, Texas A&M) and Dick Hunsaker (Ball State).
Eustachy's playing philosophy is based on rebounding and defense: "Your shots aren't always going to fall, but you can always rebound and play defense," he reasons. The Aggies rank first in the Big West Conference in scoring defense and second in field goal percentage defense. They also rank second nationally in rebound margin (they were first last year).
Eustachy's organizational philosophy is based on delegation to a degree normally reserved for football coaches. Two of his three assistants are former head coaches, Boyd and Davis, who, ironically, have both employed him as their assistant. He gave Davis the title of "Associate head coach" and the duty of running the Aggie offense. Boyd, a fulltime assistant last season, serves as a consultant from his Palm Springs home. He attended the first month of practice and joins the Aggies on road trips. Eustachy calls him daily for advice.
"One of his strengths is that he'll delegate," says Boyd. "He'll say, `Here, Coach, you talk to them.' Or `you do the interview,' or `you take the timeout or halftime.' He's not afraid to do that."
Eustachy's personnel philosophy is conservative and no-nonsense. Beginning with the first meeting, he required grade reports, appropriate behavior off the court and hard work on the court - and backed it up with action. He has suspended two players this season, although one has been reinstated.
He used to require coats and ties of his players on road trips; now he settles for uniform sweats for better traveling comfort. He has banned players from wearing hats and jewelry around him, especially earrings.
"If they need earrings to get a date, they can wear them then," he says.
Eustachy also encourages simple courtesy of his players - "I've had more than one stewardess and referee tell me that they were impressed with the behavior of our players," he says - and he demands strict loyalty. He coaches his players in what they should and should not say to the media. Asked how his players would respond to questions about Eustachy's practice conduct, the coach smiles and says, "They'll lie to you."
Eustachy's coaching style is intense, demanding and confrontational. Practices are intense and exhausting. USU coaches say two players quit the team last year simply because they didn't like the increased physical demands of practice.
"He never relaxes," says star forward Eric Franson. "Never. He's very demanding. He demands almost perfection."
Eustachy, who requires several 6 a.m. workouts a year, has been known to stop practice for the smallest details - i.e., if a ball is rebounded with one hand instead of two, or if a defender's outside foot is inches inside the offensive player's outside foot.
Heaven help the poor player who repeats a mistake. It is not uncommon for Eustachy to throw a screaming fit or go nose to nose with a player, shouting obscenities, to make his point. It was a startling change for players who had played for Eustachy's predecessor, the calm, rather noncommunicative Kohn Smith, and a few of them quit the team because of it.
"I lost several the same way at Idaho," says Eustachy. "It comes down to toughness. I've scared off recruits, too, because I tell them what's expected."
Still, some players don't mind what Eustachy's saying, just how he's saying it. "I didn't like the way he got his points across," says one former player who quit the team. "He uses lots of intimidation. The players play hard out of fear. One time after a bad first half, he kicked a hole in the wall in the locker room. We had to hold back our laughter. I had heard the stories from when he was at Idaho, so I was expecting it. Still, you're going, Wow, this is what they were talking about it . . . I think there are better ways to get your players to play hard."
Senior Roddie Anderson says, "We were kind of in shock last year. We talked about it. We'd tell guys, `Just shake your head and say yes or no.' We all knew it could be anyone."
Fortunately for the Aggies, there is, says Anderson, "a good-cop, bad-cop" arrangement in Logan. Eustachy's assistants, or Anderson himself, soothe a player after Eustachy has chewed him out.
"That's all I did my first year - mending," says Boyd.
For his part, Eustachy claims that his outbursts are premeditated. "It all is," he explains. "I might have really lost it only twice. I'm under control right down to getting kicked out of a game. If I'm not happy with how a player's done, I'll wait for an opening and then let him know it. I don't ask more than someone can give. I want them to work hard and think while they play. Those are the only reasons I get irritated. I've gone days without raising my voice."
There is one aspect of all this that bothers Eustachy. "The language comes with the profession and it's a filthy habit," he says. "I'm trying to change that. Coaches should be leaders by example."
The 65-year-old Boyd, whom Eustachy reveres as a father-figure, has cautioned his protege about his outbursts. "I told Larry one time that I think it could hurt his health," says Boyd. "He's very uptight. Fear is a motivator; so is love and respect. But Eric and Silas (Mills) have had the brunt of Larry's abuse, and they've been very supportive of him."
Asked if USU players like Eustachy, Franson says, "I think respect might be a better word."
Then again, not many of them know Eustachy well. The coach keeps his distance from his players. He seldom travels with the Aggies and sometimes stays in separate hotels on the road. He is so focused on the business of basketball, that it irritates him to see players laughing and talking about other matters en route to a game, even though he concedes "it has no bearing on the outcome of the game." Rather than stifle his players, he travels separately.
Besides that, Eustachy loves to drive and fears flying. As an assistant at Idaho, he once drove 23 hours to a game in Saramento. This season he drove to road games in Reno and Boise.
"I would have been a great truck driver," says Eustachy.
Despite his reputation to the contrary, Eustachy has ready charm and humor, which goes a long way with boosters. On a recent Monday he worked the crowd at the Juniper Inn in Hyde Park with the skill of a standup comic, filling in imaginary dialogue, teasing a booster at one of the tables, tossing one-liners.
"I've seen him have an audience in stitches," says one USU official.
"People think he's a comedian," says Eustachy's wife, Stacy. "People tell me if he ever got fired, he could be on Saturday Night Live. He's the life of any party."
Eustachy's wit and energy come in handy at the many fund-raising activities he has introduced at USU. Every other week he drives to Salt Lake City to eat with and speak to members of the Breakfast Club at an uptown restaurant. Aggie boosters pay $250 to belong to the Locker Room Club, which allows them to get the "inside stuff" from Eustachy and his assistants in a room adjacent to the locker room before and after games.
The question in Logan these days is how will USU keep Eustachy, especially given his rapid success with rebuilding a losing program, his youth, his history of moving on and his record (five winning seasons in five years at Idaho and USU). Undoubtedly, he will be a big target during the off-season when schools hunt for coaches.
"If I got a coach no one wants, I've got the wrong coach," says Bell. "If someone offers him the $400,000 that Majerus is supposed to be making, I can't do much. What we can offer is security (a long-term contract) and support."
Bell has one strong ally in Stacy, who has told her husband she likes Logan. "He feels like I do," she says. "This is the first time we're not building on success to leave."
Eustachy, who spends several hours each morning playing with his two young sons, considers Logan a good place to raise a family, but he also is ambitious.
"I'm not going to do this forever," he says. "I want to make enough money and then watch my kids play Little League. But I can do that right here."
Time will tell. Meanwhile, Eustachy has brought high times back to USU.