He's a brilliant head of State

The scope of it all really hadn't hit him until he met John Wooden.

"The year we won, I went out to the Wooden Awards with Mateen Cleaves and Mo Peterson, because we were all nominated for an award," explains Michigan State coach Tom Izzo. "[Wooden] said, 'Welcome to the fraternity of either 40 or 41,' and I'm thinking, 'What the hell is he talking about?' And he said, 'There have only been either 40 or 41 who have won a championship.' That's when it really hit me."

The layman might think when that final buzzer sounds and your team has won that might be, you know, the moment you've always dreamed of. But that's not necessarily the case. "Things happened so fast," Izzo says, "that I'm not sure I had a chance to know what it was supposed to feel like. Magic Johnson came into our locker room and said, 'You'll appreciate this more in 10 years, and you'll appreciate it twice as much in 20 years.' "

The year was 2000, and so it is Year 7 in the post-championship era for Tom Izzo and Michigan State, at Conte Forum last night to play Boston College in the ACC-Big Ten Challenge, a game won by the Eagles, 65-58. No one is expecting particularly great things from this edition of the Spartans, but attention must be paid since among their early-season accomplishments were a 2-point conquest of a Texas team that is going to be heard from and a 2-point loss to a Maryland team that is grabbing headlines now.

Tom Izzo is college basketball coaching royalty; there is no way around it. People are in the Hall of Fame who either made one appearance in the Final Four, or none at all, and here is a man who has constructed a program that has made four trips to the Final Four since 1999, while winning it all in 2000. It is a sensational achievement, and it is all the more notable because there is no obvious reason for it. Michigan State does not have the aura and tradition of Kentucky, North Carolina, Kansas, or Duke, and unlike Connecticut it is not even the preferred school in its own state. This outstanding program is a tribute to Tom Izzo.

Remaining at the top of the heap in college basketball is just north of difficult and just south of impossible. Early defections to the NBA mean that recruiting is a 24/7/365 ordeal. Believe it or not, people used to take days, weeks, months, or even years off in the recruiting wars. Nowadays, no one operates on anything more than a two-year plan, Izzo included. You want to seize your opportunities when they present themselves.

"We went to three Final Fours in a row," he points out. "And I really thought our best team was in '01, when we had [Zach] Randolph and [Jason Richardson]. Talent-wise, that was our best squad. But we ran into a really good Arizona team on the wrong night."

But Messrs. Randolph and Richardson answered the call of the NBA, which meant Spartan fans were going to have to wait a while to make another visit to the Final Four. I trust that a four-year gap didn't put them off too much. I also trust those fans appreciate what they have.

"I just hope our people understand," says Izzo, "that what we've done here is not normal."

You cannot win without outstanding players, but plenty of people in Izzo's business have managed to assemble teams oozing with talent that accomplished nothing. In the end, you simply must coach 'em up, and there is no question in anyone's mind that Izzo can do just that.

A classic Izzo team does two things: defends and rebounds. Attention to these matters can be expected from a man from the famed Upper Peninsula -- in his case Iron Mountain, Mich. -- where life is distinctly unfrilly. For years we've heard tales about Michigan State rebounding drills that would make Mike Ditka proud, which is why people were quite willing to dignify the rumor that Izzo actually was a serious candidate to replace the deposed John L. Smith as coach of the Michigan State football team.

Izzo didn't exactly shoot down the story with sufficient vigor, but in the end his only contribution to the cause was to serve on the search committee that offered the job to Mark Dantonio. Hey, but there's always next time. "I do have an incredible love for the game," Izzo sighs.

Among his other distinctions, Izzo and his Spartans have twice played the unenviable role of the Big Meanie in ending the Cinderella quests of lovable teams in NCAA play. His 1998 team beat purist favorite Princeton in a regional semifinal game after the Tigers had dismembered (OK, humiliated) UNLV. It was a sensational coaching triumph because that was a legitimate Princeton team and because it required Izzo and his staff to do a quickie coaching job. "We had to undo just about everything we preach defensively," he said at the time. Most notably, he had to school his players to keep their hands down, the better to thwart Princeton's notoriously lethal bounce passes to back-door cutters.

Two seasons ago, fate again placed Izzo in the role of the Grinch That Ousted Santa Claus. This time the people's choice squad was Vermont, coached by the ebullient Tom Brennan, whose Catamounts had just knocked off Syracuse in a memorable stunner. "I go out to the floor early, which most coaches don't do," Izzo recalls, "and now here comes Tom Brennan, who I didn't really know, to sit next to me. He's telling me how happy he is, his life's been fulfilled, they've won a game in the NCAA Tournament and life couldn't be better no matter what happens today, and I'm thinking, 'Boy, I'd like to have an attitude like that.' "

Tom Izzo could quit right now, with a ticket punched to Springfield, but he's only 51, and, anyway, he's not fulfilled. He has the intention of joining a more exclusive club. "Winning two puts you in a very select group," he explains. "That makes you one of nine or 10. [The number is 10.] It puts you in a separate league."

Given that every Izzo four-year recruit thus far has gone to at least one Final Four, I'd wager that the Gang of Ten will be making room for another member before too long.