Kapitel 4
Small Fish, Big Dreams
At UNC, I went from being a big fish in a small pond to nobody. Starting college on Friday the 13th of September, I struggled with homesickness and the academic demands. My high school classmate Wanda Jones provided stability during those difficult first weeks until basketball tryouts changed everything for me.
I prepared obsessively for basketball tryouts, running dorm stairs nightly to ensure I'd be in better shape than anyone. Out of 77 players competing for 15 spots, I made the final cut. When I saw my name on the roster, my feet didn't touch the ground walking away. Playing in my first college game as a preliminary to the varsity match, I was shocked by my nervousness and the speed of competition. Though ranked as the top freshman team in the country, I was one of the last players off the bench, humbled by facing superior athletes like Steve Previs in practice.
Though possibly our least talented player, I cared more than anyone and found ways to contribute. I'd motivate starters before games with specific performance targets. I even set a team record on the treadmill test, running for 7 minutes and 10 seconds at a steep incline until they forced me to stop. Basketball had saved my college experience, giving me purpose and community when I needed it most.
After freshman year, I knew my playing days were ending despite transfer offers from smaller colleges. Instead, I stayed at UNC to learn coaching, attending Coach Smith's practices where I meticulously documented drills and strategies. Working 24 hours weekly as an intramural official for $1.05 per hour, I supported myself through college, refusing loans because "I didn't want to owe anybody any money." My mathematical aptitude caught Coach Smith's attention, who asked me to keep points-per-possession statistics during games-a responsibility I took extremely seriously.
Unlike most students, I never drank alcohol or smoked, having seen what drinking did to my family. I devoted myself to intramurals, playing every sport possible and eventually being voted one of the best intramural athletes on campus. Throughout college, my relationship with Wanda deepened from friendship to courtship, culminating in my less-than-romantic proposal during Easter break of grad school when I had her reach for the ring box hidden under my gym shorts in the backseat of my car.
Kapitel 5
Learning to Lead: First Coaching Steps
After getting engaged to Wanda, I received an unexpected call from Mr. Estes, my former elementary school principal, directing me to meet with Charlie Lytle, the principal at Owen High School. Despite my lack of coaching experience, Lytle offered me the head basketball coaching position at the struggling program that had won six or fewer games for six straight years. When asked why I thought I could do better, I simply replied, "I just have this feeling I can do it." The job wasn't prestigious-"if it had been a plum job I would not have gotten it"-but it brought me home to Asheville, pleasing both Wanda and my mother.
My first coaching experience came with the freshman football team despite knowing nothing about football. When instructed to have players do the "monkey roll" drill, I had no idea what it was. I nervously asked who wanted to go first, and when three players stepped up, I just said "Go!" As they rolled and leaped over each other, I didn't know when to stop them-leaving them exhausted after four minutes instead of the standard 30 seconds. Ironically, this earned me a reputation among my future basketball players as "the toughest son of a gun you're ever going to meet."
When I first entered Owen's basketball gym, I found just thirteen players, many out of shape. Being the best player in the gym at 22 years old earned me immediate respect. I tried implementing UNC's system but quickly realized my inexperienced players couldn't handle it. My first season was disastrous at 2-19, giving me a "hyperacidic pre-ulcer condition." After going 6-16 in my second year, I faced doubts from the community and briefly questioned my coaching future during a 1-3 start to my third season. A breakthrough team meeting where players honestly shared their concerns saved both the season and possibly my coaching career-we won nine straight games afterward.
I mentored my players like Buddy Baldwin had guided me-mandating coats and ties on road trips, joining them to sweep floors after practice, driving them home, and having Wanda make bologna sandwiches for road games. I wrote personal notes of encouragement on index cards before games with specific expectations. During practices, I'd challenge players to one-on-one games during water breaks and never lost, which helped establish a competitive spirit that was initially lacking. Though I loved coaching at Owen, I began considering college coaching-not for money or fame, but to devote my entire day to basketball rather than teaching health classes I had little interest in.
Kapitel 6
The Best Dadgum Calendar Salesman There Ever Was
In my first season as a UNC assistant coach, I was terrified to speak, only blowing my whistle to referee practices. I kept detailed statistical charts during games that Coach Smith appreciated. By my third year, I finally suggested a play-"Biggie"-which worked twice in a row against NC State. Coach Smith later told me he trusted my suggestions because he knew I'd thought them through thoroughly, making me feel like a real coach at last.
Working as a part-time assistant meant full-time work with part-time pay. I juggled five jobs to support my family-running a small basketball camp for university children, organizing paperwork for a transport company despite having a master's degree, driving 504 miles every Sunday delivering videotapes to TV stations, and selling calendars through cold calls. The calendar sales were particularly demeaning-I drove 9,000 miles one summer to sell 10,500 calendars for just $2,400. Wanda taught at Chapel Hill High School for $9,000 before going part-time when our second child was born. Our combined income in 1980 was just $8,910 for our family of four.
I was the first college coach truly excited about Michael Jordan. After a coach's lukewarm assessment, I convinced Jordan's high school coach to send him to UNC's summer camp where I was immediately impressed by his talent. After watching him play three consecutive 30-minute sessions, I told Eddie Fogler, "I think I just saw the best 6'4" high school basketball player I've ever seen." Coach Smith quickly offered Jordan a scholarship, despite him not being listed among the top 500 players in America by Street & Smith's.
When Michael first arrived at UNC, he told me, "Coach, I want to be the best player to ever play here." I challenged him that working as hard as everyone else wouldn't be enough. Two days later, Michael promised, "There will never be anyone who will outwork me." From that day on, he tried to destroy everyone in every drill-that's when I knew we had something special.
Coaching North Carolina's junior varsity team was coaching at its purest. These players weren't going to the NBA and played simply because they loved basketball and wearing a Carolina jersey. We beat Duke all four times we played them, once using Coach Smith's "Four Corners" offense the entire game to frustrate a more talented team. I took losses hard-Jeff Lebo once found me red-eyed after a JV loss and remarked it was "just a JV game," to which our trainer replied, "Not to Coach Williams."
During the 1982 NCAA championship game against Georgetown, we were down by one point with 32 seconds left. The players' negative expressions scared me-it was the first time I thought we might lose. Coach Smith masterfully changed the mood in the huddle, saying "We're exactly where we want to be because we're going to determine the outcome of this game." He laid out the plan with complete confidence, telling Michael, "If you get it, knock it in." Jordan hit the winning shot, giving Coach Smith his first national championship. I had tears rolling down my face, relieved that people could no longer say Coach Smith couldn't win the big one.
Kapitel 7
Building a Legacy at Kansas
When Larry Brown left Kansas for the San Antonio Spurs in June 1988, Coach Smith recommended me to Kansas AD Bob Frederick. Despite my doubts about landing such a prestigious job, Frederick interviewed me during my vacation in Bermuda. After cutting our trip short, I flew to Lawrence to meet with the search committee, where I candidly expressed my struggle about leaving North Carolina. Kansas legend Galen Fiss responded with tears in his eyes, saying my loyalty to UNC was exactly why I should coach Kansas-because I could love Kansas the same way.
After accepting the Kansas job, I called my wife Wanda and my friend Jerry Green, who enthusiastically agreed to join my staff. The stress of the decision caused me to vomit repeatedly throughout my first day as Kansas head coach, even after seeing a doctor for what was diagnosed as an ear infection.
Coach Smith had reassured me I could be "just as good a coach as Larry Brown," which gave me confidence despite my awe of Smith. By September, we had commitments from top recruits Thomas Hill, Harold Miner, and Adonis Jordan. Then disaster struck on Halloween night when the NCAA placed Kansas on three years' probation for violations under the previous staff-no NCAA Tournament that year, three lost scholarships, and no campus visits for prospects for a full year. Harold Miner immediately withdrew his commitment, and a former Jayhawk Club president publicly questioned my hiring in the Dallas Morning News. Thomas Hill soon called to tell me he was going to Duke instead.
After losing Thomas Hill and Harold Miner, our recruiting prospects looked bleak. When Adonis Jordan called to commit, I wrote "Adonis is coming! Hooray! Hooray!" on the blackboard-a genuine celebration because we weren't sure we'd get anyone after the probation. Our only other signee was Pekka Markkanen from Finland, whose recruitment was based on a fast-forwarded videotape I could barely evaluate.
We opened my second season by crushing Alabama-Birmingham by 26 points in the Preseason NIT. Then we were sent to play #2 LSU with Shaquille O'Neal and Stanley Roberts-a deliberate scheduling move to ensure LSU would advance to Madison Square Garden. I boldly told Dick Vitale, "We're going to spoil the party," and told my players to visualize who they'd hug first after winning. In New York, we faced #1 UNLV, where I was introduced as "Ron Williams." I promised they'd know my name by tournament's end. We dismantled UNLV's pressure defense with Princeton-style backdoor cuts, leading by 20 at one point and winning by 15. We skyrocketed from unranked to #4 nationally, eventually spending 14 weeks ranked #1 or #2.
Despite starting the 1990-91 season with two conference losses, we recovered to win our first regular season conference championship. After losing in the Big 8 Tournament semifinals to Nebraska, Mark Randall interrupted my pep talk to declare, "We're too good to do what we just did today. If everybody in this room would do what this man says and everybody in this room would pull together, we can make a run and we can win the whole thing." We dominated Indiana 83-65 in the Sweet 16, then overcame a 12-point halftime deficit against Arkansas to reach the Final Four. There, we faced Coach Smith's North Carolina team, beating them 79-73 despite Coach Smith's controversial ejection. In the championship game, we lost to Duke 72-65.
Kapitel 8
The Heartbreak and Triumph of Coaching
Our 1997 team was one of the best I've ever seen, with four future first-round NBA draft picks-Jerod Haase and Jacque Vaughn in the backcourt, Paul Pierce at small forward, and Raef LaFrentz and Scot Pollard as post players. We started 22-0 before a heartbreaking loss at Missouri, then won the rest of our regular season and conference tournament games, spending 15 weeks ranked #1. In the NCAA Tournament, Jerod Haase's wrist injury severely limited him, but I let him try to play against Arizona because "he is the only kid I've ever coached who I thought cared as much about winning as I did." Without Haase at full strength, we couldn't match Arizona's backcourt quickness and lost 85-82, finishing 34-2. That crushing defeat still haunts me: "If I coach for 50 more years, it will still be one of the biggest disappointments, if not the biggest disappointment, that I've ever had."
My faith in college coaching was restored when I recruited Nick Collison, Drew Gooden, and Kirk Hinrich-all from good families who simply wanted the best for their sons. I first spotted Nick in Iowa Falls High's state championship game and was impressed by his fundamentally sound play. Matt Doherty alerted me to Drew Gooden at ABCD camp, who had an incredible knack for rebounding. Tim Floyd tipped me off about Kirk Hinrich when leaving Iowa State for the Bulls. These three players, who reminded me I could recruit good kids with good families, saved my college coaching career.
With Collison, Hinrich, and Gooden as freshmen in 2000, we lost to Duke in the second round. In 2001, as a #4 seed, we lost to Illinois in the third round. The 2002 team added Wayne Simien, Aaron Miles, and Keith Langford, going undefeated in Big 12 regular season play before losing to Maryland in the Final Four semifinals.
Despite losing Gooden to the NBA, we replaced him with junior college transfer Jeff Graves for the 2003 season. Despite early struggles and injuries, we recovered to finish 14-2 in the Big 12. We reached another Final Four, demolishing Marquette and Dwyane Wade by 33 points in the semifinals. We faced Syracuse in the championship game, believing we should win because we were the best team and because Nick and Kirk had returned for their senior years. Despite falling behind by 18 points early, we battled back. With two seconds left, Hakim Warrick blocked Michael Lee's shot, Kirk missed at the buzzer, and we lost. When I congratulated Jim Boeheim, he told me, "Roy, I appreciate it. You're going to get yours one of these days, too."
Kapitel 9
The Toughest Decision: Choosing Between Two Loves
In April 1997, Coach Smith mentioned possibly retiring before the next season. When he retired in October, Coach Guthridge became his successor, though I'd expected him to coach only one season. In summer 2000, Coach Guthridge called to say he was resigning and wanted me to take the job. Despite my attempts to convince him to stay, he announced his retirement.
When UNC offered me the job, I needed time to think. Kansas offered me a lifetime contract, but I still flew to Chapel Hill with Wanda while Scott drove up from Charlotte and Kimberly was already there as a student. Coach Smith recruited me but said, "I want you to do what you want to do."
I hoped for a sign that would tell me it was right to break my promise to Nick Collison. Strangely, the longer I stayed in Chapel Hill, the more negative feelings I had about moving. I made endless pro/con lists but kept flip-flopping every five minutes. I couldn't eat or sleep. When I returned to Kansas, fans had posted cards around Allen Fieldhouse begging me to stay, sewn a "Roy, Please Stay" shirt for Dr. Allen's statue, and written poems on the sidewalk.
After an early morning call from a former high school player who said my players would love me regardless, I decided to stay at Kansas. When I announced this at a press conference attended by 16,000 people at the football stadium, they went wild. I made one big mistake: I said, "The next time we're having a press conference like this, it'll either be because I'm retiring or dying."
My decision hurt people I loved. Coach Guthridge didn't speak to me for three years, Eddie Fogler barely spoke to me, and my close friend Bill Miller only spoke to me once until I called him when he was dying. North Carolina hired Matt Doherty, my former Kansas assistant. I thought he'd be perfect and coach UNC for 25 years.
After we made the 2003 Final Four, Matt called to congratulate me and say his job was safe. I was elated not to face another UNC decision. But days later, Matt was fired-Dick Baddour told me players had threatened to transfer if Matt stayed. With my nemesis AD Al Bohl being fired at Kansas, I was torn again. On the flight home from the Wooden Awards ceremony, I made my decision: I was going to North Carolina.
The Kansas reaction was brutal. Some called me a traitor at the basketball banquet, though my former players defended me. It hurt deeply that people I thought cared about me personally were so bitter. Kansas even erased my 15 years from their historical videos. Despite this, I remain a top-level Kansas donor with six midcourt season tickets.
Kapitel 10
Winning the Whole Blessed Thing
The decision to leave Kansas was excruciating. Telling my players was the worst feeling I've ever had as a coach. When they entered the locker room, they could read it on my face. I told them I wasn't trading them for North Carolina's players, that I loved them, but that I hadn't been happy for two years and believed this move was best for me and my family. Walking out into the hallway afterward, I felt awful for hurting them. I felt dirty, like I was abandoning them. In that moment, I had the lowest opinion of myself I've ever had.
Flying back to Chapel Hill, air traffic controllers sent good luck messages the whole way. Coach Smith and Coach Guthridge greeted me at the airport, though things were initially awkward with Guthridge after our three-year silence. At the press conference, I refused to change my tie for a Carolina blue one, wanting to honor my Kansas years. The next day, I told the team my expectations: play hard, sacrifice, and we'd make the NCAA Tournament that year, then win "the whole blessed thing" the next year. My first workout with them lasted just 28 minutes, but two players threw up. They were shockingly out of shape after two difficult seasons under Matt Doherty.
For the 2005 season, I started by removing all the rims from the practice court backboards and running 45 minutes of pure defensive drills. I reminded the returning players of my promise that in our second year together, we could "win the whole blessed thing." I challenged each player individually: Sean to lose weight and gain stamina, Rashad to improve ball-handling and defense, Raymond to shoot better, and Jawad to be more consistent.
That brutal practice in Hawaii was transformative-I saw the competitive fire I'd been seeking as players busted their rear ends without complaint. We won the Maui Invitational despite Raymond injuring his wrist, then went on a 14-game winning streak. The pivotal moment came after losing at Duke by one point-instead of blaming Raymond for the final play, I showed everyone's mistakes and united the team. Raymond became a different player afterward. We beat UConn on the road and won the ACC championship by overcoming a nine-point deficit against Duke with three minutes left. Before the Final Four, I had all 17 players sign a defensive pledge. In the championship against Illinois, we built a 15-point lead, weathered their comeback, and won 75-70. Sean May hugged me saying, "Coach, you believed in me. This is the happiest moment of my life." In the locker room, I told the team they were now part of North Carolina basketball forever.
Kapitel 11
The Philosophy of Hard Work
When I was two years old, I caught my first fish by simply running away from the pond with the stick and line, dragging the fish onto the bank. I'm still trying to land the big ones any way I can. Recruiting means everything to me-as John Wooden told me, "You can coach talent. Some guys can't. Nobody can coach no talent." I recruit through elimination, looking for players who fit my system: big men who can run, point guards with savvy, and everyone must be able to pass, shoot, and play at high speed.
My recruiting approach is methodical and focused. I look first for talent, then character. I once told a principal I wouldn't prioritize academics second because "if he's a great player and a 4.0 student but he's going to be a pain in the rear end, I want it to be somebody else's rear end." Character matters-I was sold on Marvin Williams when I saw him bring water to teammates after fouling out. I personally handle my top prospects, making extraordinary efforts like my nine trips to tiny Monona, Iowa for Raef LaFrentz, where locals eventually left my rental car running with a sandwich waiting.
My philosophy is that basketball is the simplest game in the world-if you can get five guys moving in the same direction for a common goal. Coaching is about getting my five guys to execute my plan better than you can get yours to execute yours. One selfish player spells trouble; more than one means no chance. My offensive strategy focuses on running-making opponents run faster and longer than ever before. We aim for 90-105 possessions per game because more possessions favor the better team. We share the ball, throw inside first, and always take what we want rather than what opponents give us.
I'm "frighteningly organized" with practice plans timed to the minute, all filed since my earliest coaching days. Every drill directly correlates to our next opponent-I mock coaches who run meaningless drills like figure-eights. While I've evolved from the trash-kicking, player-running coach of my early career to motivating through sarcasm and pride appeals, I remain demanding.
I'm deeply superstitious-from unwashed socks in high school to spitting in the Mississippi River before big games and visiting Phog Allen's grave before Kansas home games. My game day routine is precise: mandatory nap after pregame meal, arriving 90 minutes early, writing no more than three key points on the board, and ending our final huddle with the Lord's Prayer plus "Together please, Lord." Before tip-off, we chant "Hard work!"-a reminder that nobody outworks us.
I believe in loyalty above all else. When Nike offered me twice what Converse was paying after my Kansas team reached the national championship game, I still chose to stay with Converse because they'd supported me when nobody else would. I prioritize my players over everything-even declining a call from former President Bush when meeting with a player. I mentor players through daily inspirational "Thought for the Day" readings, discussing how each applies to both basketball and life. I'm brutally honest with players about their abilities and hold them strictly accountable-once leaving Adonis Jordan behind when he was late for the team bus.
Kapitel 12
Family, Legacy, and Looking Forward
Family has always been my priority despite coaching demands. In 1984, I flew 30 hours round-trip from Tokyo just to spend Christmas with my children before rejoining the team in Hawaii. When home, I never took naps-if my kids were active, I wanted to participate. I read bedtime stories, attended their games and recitals whenever possible, and treasured our family bike rides and swimming pool visits. Family dinners and morning breakfasts were sacred to me-opportunities to connect with my children.
Wanda has been the backbone of our family. While I was often away recruiting or coaching, she was both mother and father to our children. She provided the practical balance to my dreamer mentality, teaching our kids life skills and keeping our finances in order. In 36 years of marriage, I've only written two checks-both for charity golf events. Wanda gives me honest feedback after games and emotional support when I need it most. I've told her I want to die first because I simply couldn't manage without her.
Beyond family, I treasure my "foxhole buddies"-friends who treat me as Roy, not Coach Williams. These guys keep me grounded with their humor, like when they teased me after a tough 1994 Kansas loss about not running the "barking dog play" they'd seen on a high school highlight reel. Golf became my competitive outlet after I stopped playing basketball in college. I started with just a few clubs from a flea market, but quickly became obsessed. Golf is my true escape-the one place I don't think about work or even carry my phone.
I lost my mother to cancer in 1992, and I've always regretted not being with her when she died. After her death, Leonard King, her friend, gave me two hundred-dollar bills my mom had won at bingo. I kept one folded in my wallet-where it remains to this day-and gave the other to my sister. My sister Frances was diagnosed with dementia in her early fifties. I returned to North Carolina partly to be near her, not wanting to be "the rich little brother in Kansas just sending money." The last time I saw my father was in May 2004, when I visited him during his late-stage cancer. He acknowledged his failings, saying "I really didn't do a good job with you as a father."
Since this book was first published, my life has changed dramatically. On January 1, 2010, my first grandchild Aiden Allen Williams was born. When I heard the middle name-my own middle name-I had to turn away to compose myself. Driving back to Chapel Hill after seeing him, I was so elated I completely forgot about basketball. My grandson became my salvation during the brutal 2010 season-when he fell asleep on my chest after a tough Clemson loss, he showed me something beyond basketball.
Wanda would have liked me to retire years ago, especially after our national championships. She sees how the job wears on me and how fans always want more-even after winning the 2009 championship, people immediately started asking about the next one. Despite having only 76% approval ratings after multiple championships, I still can't imagine slowing down. I work just as hard now as when I started, because hard work is my guarantee that no other coach will outwork me. I'd like to coach another 8-10 years, until I'm around 67-69. After that, my ideal retirement would be playing golf every day until the end-hopefully with just enough money left to pay for my casket, with a check that bounces.
