The old college try falls flat
Billy came.
Billy saw.
Billy decided to leave the NBA conquering to someone else.
Good for Billy Donovan. Good for the Donovan clan. Good for the University of Florida. Good for college basketball. And please, spare the tears for the Orlando Magic. They'll get a cheaper coach, and probably one better suited for success in the NBA.
How can anyone think that Billy Donovan executing this U-turn is not a wise thing? Come on now. How many couples would have been better off had the bride and groom parted company at the altar rather than plunging into a doomed marital venture?
College is college and the NBA is the NBA. No matter which way someone is going, it is not an easy transition. Billy Donovan caught himself before he made a mistake that would more than likely have left everyone unhappy. So this affair is, yup, no harm, no foul.
Once upon a time, it was possible for someone to go directly from college to the NBA without passing Go, collecting the $200, or spending a day on a professional bench. But that day came and went a long time ago. Of the last seven men who tried it -- and for the sake of this discussion, we are going to pretend that Rick Pitino did not coach the Knicks for two years in the late '80s -- none have lasted more than four years in any position, and none have been what anyone would call successful. Three, perhaps four, were utter disasters. Believe it or not, the most successful one was P.J. Carlesimo, and perhaps it's time someone (Orlando perhaps) gives him another chance.
And we're not even discussing the foolish case of Jerry Tarkanian, who left the Spurs after 20 games in the 1992-93 season.
That is, however, where the modern chapter of hiring non-NBA guys resumed after a gap of many years. Tarkanian was the first man hired as a head coach who had not at least been an NBA assistant since the Cavaliers hired the legendary Bill Musselman in 1980. Musselman was a character of the highest degree, and his Cavalier tenure was stormy, to be polite. Though he resurfaced with the expansion Minnesota Timberwolves, the fact is he had done much to affirm the opinion that in order to coach in the NBA, it was necessary to have experienced the NBA, be it as a player or a coach.
That appears to still be the case. When Carlesimo was hired away from Seton Hall to coach the Trail Blazers in 1994, his primary connection to the league had been as an assistant on the famed 1992 Dream Team, where, among his other duties, he was the team's unofficial social director. P.J. was, and is, a good basketball man, but suffice it to say that there was no connection between the activities of the Dream Team and a normal NBA operation. When he entered the NBA two years later, that "preparation" was useless.
Rick Pitino came back to the NBA in 1997, and that saga is a book in itself. Rick reentered the NBA thinking it was the same league he had left eight years earlier. It wasn't.
John Calipari went from UMass to the Nets the year before Rick left Kentucky for the Celtics, and since then, we have seen Tim Floyd, Lon Kruger, Leonard Hamilton, and Mike Montgomery take a shot. Or, should I say take their shots? Pitino (Louisville), Calipari (Memphis), Floyd (USC), Kruger (UNLV), and Hamilton (Florida State) have all fled safely back to the womb of Mother College, where, I suspect, they will forever remain. Montgomery undoubtedly will follow them soon.
What's interesting is that once upon a time, there was a major influx of these college guys, and they left a lasting influence on the league.
The major invasion began in 1967 when the Lakers hired Butch van Breda Kolff after the volatile mentor had spent five successful years at Princeton and the Cincinnati Royals hired highly successful local legend Ed Jucker, who had taken the University of Cincinnati to NCAA titles in 1961 and 1962, as well as to the final in 1963. Jucker left the NBA, never to return after two years, but Butch stuck around for a while, getting the Lakers to the Finals against the Celtics in 1968 and 1969, and also coaching Detroit, Phoenix (for seven games), and the expansion New Orleans Jazz. No more colorful personality ever graced an NBA bench.
Over the next six years, NBA owners and general managers were eager to hire successful college coaches. Chicago hired little-known Dick Motta from Weber State. The Lakers replaced VBK with Joe Mullaney of Providence, and he got them to the 1970 Finals. The expansion Cleveland Cavaliers hired Bill Fitch of Minnesota. The Phoenix Suns hired Cotton Fitzsimmons from Kansas State and followed that up by hiring John MacLeod of Oklahoma. Dr. Jack Ramsay would also be on this list had he not spent one year as the 76ers general manager in between leaving Saint Joseph's and taking over as 76ers coach in 1968.
Messrs. Motta, Fitch, Fitzsimmons, and MacLeod averaged 22 seasons and 854 career wins among them. Motta ('78 Bullets) and Fitch ('81 Celtics) won championships (so did Ramsay with the '77 Trail Blazers). By any measure, they rank among the most successful coaches in NBA history.
So what happened? Did the league change that much over the years?
In a word, yes.
It has changed in both a personal and a technical sense. The pro culture has evolved. It takes a while to get used to the idea that success in NBA coaching, as Daly once said, "depends on whether or not the players will allow you to coach them."
But the technical aspect is even more challenging. The NBA has superior athletes, and the micromanaging of their incredible talents is frightening. Defenses are infinitely more sophisticated than in the old days, where often the only issue was to switch or not to switch. There's a whole lot more going on than there used to be.
Look, I know that one reason the last seven college guys failed was the fact that, for the most part, they inherited bad teams. I also know the Magic had more to offer Billy Donovan than most of those other guys had. Dwight Howard, plus some enviable cap room, well, that's not a bad start.
I also know someone who belongs in college when I see him. Billy Donovan is one of those guys. It just took him an extra day or so to follow his heart.
Remember what Theo Epstein said when he left the Red Sox? He couldn't be "all in." When he felt that he could, he came back. I don't know exactly what brought Billy Donovan to his conclusion, but he obviously realized that he could not be "all in" if he went to the NBA. Better he tell them now than next January, is it not?
Bob Ryan is a Globe columnist. His e-mail address is ryan@globe.com. 
