The technical foul

Gene Steinmeyer

Have you ever heard of Pete Pavia? Do you remember the 1991 Final Four? Unless you are a real basketball junkie that has a memory like Sheldon from the Big Bang Theory or Mike Ross from Suits, you won’t have a clue at what I’m about to discuss.

The 1991 Final Four included an intriguing semifinal matchup between Kansas and North Carolina. Kansas was coached by Roy Williams, a longtime assistant under North Carolina coach Dean Smith.

The game was close. Smith received a technical foul just before half for arguing a call. That was unusual because Smith was considered a very calm coach. With the score 76-71 with 35 seconds left in the game, the Tar Heels’ Rick Fox fouled out. Smith grabbed a substitute and walked him to the scorer’s table.

Along the way, he asked Pavia how much time he had to get the substitute in the game. When Pavia didn’t answer, Smith asked twice more. After the third time, Pavia assessed a technical foul for Smith being out of the coach’s box. The second technical ejected Smith. The cool, calm Smith walked to the locker room, shaking hands with Williams and all the Kansas assistant coaches and players.

Pavia was criticized for the action he took against Smith. It wasn’t the first big-time coach that had been given a second technical foul by Pavia. Earlier in his career, he had ejected Georgetown’s John Thompson, Connecticut’s Jim Calhoun and Oklahoma’s Billy Tubbs. Having a quick trigger on technicals didn’t hurt Pavia’s career, though. Pavia also worked the 1986 NCAA I Men’s Championship Game.

A sad memo to this story is Pavia died of cancer a year after the technical on Dean Smith, having battled the disease for more than 12 years. Pavia kept officiating despite having a cancerous kidney and lung removed.

The technical foul has gotten very confusing with a couple of rule changes. There is now a “flagrant personal foul,” a “flagrant technical foul” or just your garden-variety “technical foul.” Northwest Missouri State’s men’s team won its first outright conference championship since 1987 Saturday. The definitions caused confusion in the game.

Senior forward Grant Cozad was undercut as he attempted to put back a missed shot late in the game. The officials went to the monitor, but didn’t tell the public address announcer what they had called. Cozad had bounced his head hard on the floor, but still stepped to the line to hit the two free throws for the foul. Northwest then took the ball out of bounds under its own basket. What had been called?

As it turned out, it was judged a flagrant personal foul. The punishment is the ball out of bounds after the free throws. Had it been judged a flagrant technical, two technical shots, plus the regular foul shots would have been assessed and Northwest gets the ball out of bounds. The offending player would have been ejected. I won’t even discuss it if a technical was called. Confused?

There are a lot of great stories about the garden-variety technical foul a coach receives for arguing. In my 28-year college coaching career, I only received six technical fouls, three at Doane College and three at Northwest. Of course, I didn’t deserve any of them.

I won’t talk about any of my technicals since my side of the plays may be a little biased. Of course, I was the injured party in all six disputes.

I have heard all kinds of stories about coaches getting whacked with a “T.” One old basketball tale has a coach charging the floor when he thought the game was being called unfairly. The official calmly informed the protesting coach that he would receive a technical for every step it took him to get off the floor. Using his imagination, the coach called his assistant coach out on the floor to carry him to the sideline. No technical was issued.

Another old tale has a coach asking an official if he can get a technical for what he’s thinking. The official said of course not. The coach replied, “Good, I think you stink.”

I don’t know if those are true stories or not, but sometimes the truth is stranger than fiction. My first boss at Doane College, who was also the men’s basketball coach, was an expert on the technical foul. I never once heard this coach utter a single profanity outside of basketball. Put him between the lines for games or practices and his language sounded more like a dock worker. Even he couldn’t explain his change of personality.

In the days before conference commissioners of officiating, coaches would hire their friends or relatives to officiate. Only visiting coaches would ever receive a technical foul. That wasn’t true on the road. In a game at Nebraska Wesleyan, the Doane coach stormed onto the court in anger. He avoided a technical when a fan ran onto the court and jumped on his back. I guess the officials thought that was enough punishment.

I had an assistant coach who was very passionate about the game. At least once a game I would have to scold him and tell him to sit down as he became enraged at a short-sighted official. He never received a technical with me, but when he became a head coach, things took a turn for the worst. His first ejection was during a junior high game. More was to follow. I blame his assistant coach. Somebody has to protect the head coach from himself.

I guess I learned the damage a technical can do very early in my career. It was my first year as a high school coach. Back then, there was a bench decorum rule that coaches could only stand up during a dead ball.

In a game against a rival school, I had a player get called for traveling. I jumped up and yelled at the player, “Shoot the x#@& ball.” The official who had his back to me turned and gave me a “T.” Only if his eyes were in the back of his head could he tell if I stood up too early. Of course, I couldn’t convince him he was wrong.

The free throws from the technical caused my team to lose a very close game. Lesson learned the hard way.