Hollywood Haskins
EL PASO, Texas – Sinatra owned Vegas. The Daleys have and still own Chicago. Trump owns New York (literally and figuratively).
Don Haskins owns El Paso.
That’s a comparison that will upset The Bear, but only for as long as it takes him to read it. Haskins, a self-described “half-ass bum” when he played basketball for Henry Iba at Oklahoma A&M, scoffs at his celebrity and place in basketball history.
Six years after he coached his last game at UT-El Paso and 39 years after the seminal 1966 national championship that helped change the color of college basketball, Haskins is a living icon in this West Texas outpost that’s geographically closer to Los Angeles than Houston.
“I’ve been around here a long time,” Haskins offers in explanation. “The folks around here have always been nice to me.”
Whether it’s lunch at Rosco’s (a cheeseburger and chili, sprinkled with pepper) or a couple of adult beverages at The Other Bar, Haskins is greeted and treated like everybody’s favorite uncle. Haskins might not always remember their names, but he acts like he does. For the fans who consider Haskins their friend, that’s plenty.
Haskins talks like a real man, an outdoorsman. He’s blunt, honest, humorous; he sprinkles his conversation with expletives, but the words are used naturally, not for effect or shock value. At age 74, Haskins’ hair is silver and thinning. His walk is slowed by circulation problems caused by diabetes. He knows he doesn’t eat right, but he hates the thought of giving up chili and tequila.
“If I had known I was gonna live this long, I would have taken better care of myself,” taking a page from Mickey Mantle, a fellow Okie.
Haskins considers himself a man who just happened to coach basketball. The controversy, jealousy and anger that followed the 1966 national championship at times baffled Haskins. Several times he said the negative aftermath occasionally made him wish that Kentucky had won that night in Cole Fieldhouse.
The spotlight is fixin’ to shine on that season again. A book, written with Dan Wetzel, and a movie produced by Hollywood hit maker Jerry Bruckheimer are due out this summer. Both are titled “Glory Road” (Disney-produced synergy).
The movie is in post production. Josh Lucas (“Sweet Home Alabama,” “A Beautiful Mind”) plays Haskins, and Jon Voight, who has played real-life characters Howard Cosell and Franklin Roosevelt, is Kentucky coach Adolph Rupp.
Haskins has a cameo. Asked about his co-starring status, Haskins just mutters, “Yeah.”
Haskins is as much Hollywood as the Cowboys are Super Bowl contenders. For Haskins, the movie-making process was like a game with bad referees.
“I saw three scenes they shot around here and got mad,” Haskins said. “I spent 18 months, off and on, with the script writer. I might as well have not spent one second with him.”
In the movie, Haskins has been told UTEP – then known as Texas Western – won’t start five blacks until the national championship game, even though the Miners routinely played five blacks during the 1965-66 season.
“They want to build up to this big crescendo,” Haskins said. “I tried to tell ‘em the story of that ‘66 team is enough. If you don’t want to follow that script …”
The movie folks continued to ask Haskins to accept a cameo role and he kept saying no.
“Turns out they were just trying to get me to say yes because in the contract I signed, I was supposed to do it. I just didn’t know it,” said Haskins, who split the $300,000 he was paid for the film rights between his former players.
In the scene featuring Haskins, Lucas is playing Haskins and is on the phone. The real Haskins, dressed in overalls, asks the film Haskins, “Want me to fill it up?”
“They always shoot about 40 to 50 takes,” Haskins said. “After I did the sixth one, I walked over to the director and said, ‘That’s it, you got my best.’
“I got a check for $699. I saw (director Jim) Gartner a few weeks later and asked him, ‘If you’re gonna pay by the word, could we stretch that scene a little longer?’ “
Haskins and Bob Knight have always been close. They were brought together through their love and respect for Iba and for how they believed basketball should be played.
Of the hundreds of photographs that illustrate Haskins’ career, one that he loves to show is a picture taken before an Indiana-UTEP game. The coaches have switched clothes – Haskins is filling out Knight’s trademark sweater and Knight is wearing Haskins’ sportscoat.
The friendship doesn’t preclude criticism. Haskins will shake his head in wonder at some of Knight’s actions.
“It’s easy for me to say, but he needs to be as disciplined as he wants his players to be disciplined,” Haskins said. “I think since he’s been at (Texas) Tech he’s been better. With Bob, you’re either a friend or an enemy. There’s no in between. That’s one thing I don’t like.”
Knight calls Haskins “Ed.” In his younger days, Haskins was a pool player of some ability. During the 1984 U.S. Olympic team practices. Knight watched Haskins rack up a few wins and started calling him “El Paso Ed.”
Knight’s move to Texas Tech has reduced the mileage of the friendship. This year in particular, Haskins admires how the Red Raiders play.
“Bob told me he wouldn’t miss Andre Emmett,” said Haskins, who believes Knight should be Big 12 Coach of the Year. “I told him he would. Now, he gets a kick out of reminding me who was right. I think he’s having more fun and is enjoying this more than any season he’s had in a long time.
“I don’t think there’s any question that he went to Texas Tech so he could pass Dean Smith (the leader in coaching victories). Depending on his health and how long he wants to coach, he can win 900. He’s got a little ego. I just wonder if can he stand being third and fourth in the Big 12. That was gettin’ to him at Indiana.”
In Knight’s first year in Lubbock, Haskins had met with Wetzel, who then was the college basketball writer for CBS SportsLine.com. Wetzel wanted to interview Knight and Haskins help set up the interview. When Wetzel showed up in Lubbock, Knight made himself unavailable.
“I called him up and told him if he didn’t want to do it, he shoulda said so,” Haskins said. “It wasn’t right to make that guy come all the way to Lubbock. Knight said something came up. I said, ‘That’s (expletive).’ “
Knight realized his friend was angry, so he drove 340 miles from Lubbock to El Paso, spent about six hours with Haskins, stayed overnight, then drove back to Lubbock. There was no verbal apology.
“That’s a lot harder for him to do that,” Haskins said. “Knight is not a bad guy, he’s just a complicated guy.”
Haskins attends every UTEP home game played in the Don Haskins Center. He appreciates and admires the coaching jobs turned in by former coach Billy Gillispie (now at Texas A&M) and current coach Doc Sadler.
Before the games, he meets and greets people in the room where the pregame meal is served. Just before tipoff, he makes his way to his seat. The chair is not in the stands, but situated near the tunnel that leads to the exit. Fifty feet from the exit sits Haskins’ beloved pickup truck in its special parking place.