The traveling Buzz Williams Show comes to Phoenix this week after a successful run in Louisville.
Sure, the NCAA Tournament is about the players first. They are the ones taking the shots, making the rebounds, drawing the charging fouls and eliciting awe from the crowds.
But sometimes the tournament is about the coaches, too.
Williams, the fourth-year Marquette coach, is a show all by himself.
VIDEO: COACH, PLAYER REACTIONS
As much as his players, who advanced to the Sweet 16 in the West Region with wins over BYU and Murray State, captivate you, Williams also draws your attention because of his demonstrative game-day act on the bench and his outside-the-box demeanor off the court.
Williams, who has no interest in being a part of the good-old-boy network of Big East coaches and sucking up to the likes of conference veterans Jim Calhoun and Jim Boeheim, is a pitbull — always looking like a guy who’s daring you into a bar fight.
Off the court, convention and Williams can’t be in the same room together. They don’t get along. Never did.
But quirky and Williams? Perfect together.
Williams is a complex combo platter. Some are good. Some are bad. And he doesn’t care what you think about either.
He’s a man of depth and perspective, and he’s obviously terrific basketball coach.
He also can emit a condescending vibe that leads you to believe he thinks he’s the smartest guy in the room.
However, one moment after Williams might rub you the wrong way with a snarky comment or condescending look, he’ll open a vein and invite you for a look into his soul.
After the Golden Eagles’ 62-53 win over Murray State on Saturday night, Marquette freshman guard Todd Mayo said, “We pray all the time for God to stand on us (and) he definitely did today.’’ Williams sat quietly to Mayo’s left and fought back tears.
Later, when asked about his reaction, Williams poured himself into the answer, sometimes talking in circles and becoming preachy, but at the same time making deep, poignant sense.
“A lot of these kids have never been loved … and, when [they] start talking about God for the first time and when you think about what those kids have been through in the previous 20 years, they’re not sure there is a God,’’ he said. “So when they get up and speak to people they don’t know — which is a lot harder than you think — and they use the same words that you’ve used it means you’re helping their life.’’
After Marquette’s win over Murray State, Williams climbed into the stands to hug his wife, Corey, and their kids.
When a reporter told him he kept CBS waiting for its post-game interview, Williams embarked on a rambling — but again deep — discourse and again became overcome with emotion.
“I’m not worried about TV, not worried about the crowd, not worried about the pageantry,’’ he said. “I’m humbled by it all, extremely grateful to my wife and the sacrifices she makes and for our four children. Growing up as sons and daughters of a coach is very volatile and emotional.’’
Williams then proceeded to go off the reservation, leaving those listening dumbstruck by his rambling yet fascinated at his poetic stream of consciousness.
“A country kid just hung in there,’’ said Williams, a small-town Texas native who wears his roots like a badge. “Hang in there, hang in there, hang in there, throw a good pitch, throw a good pitch. The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker, show up and go to work and do it every day, no matter what’s surrounding you. That’s really hard, man.
“You got to be a lion chaser to be married to me. [Corey] is tougher than all them kids we play with. It’s humbling, really humbling.’’
At that point, Williams, emotionally spent, sighed: “Next question.’’
Is Williams a showman? Sure, he is, but that doesn’t make him a bad person.
Is he a little full of it on occasion? Sure, but there’s no harm in that, because there is a genuine side to him that balances it out.
Does his ego revel in having the pulpit on the big stage? Sure, but there’s no crime in that because it’s entertaining.
Enjoy the show, Phoenix.