John Blanchette: Former GU coach Adrian Buoncristiani returns to The Kennel after 40 years

The Kennel Club was at its pile-driving loudest, butt-cheek-to-cheek across the south bleachers, doing its Kennel Club thing. That reminded Adrian Buoncristiani of … well, of nothing at all proximate to what he experienced coaching basketball at Gonzaga.

“You know what we used to do?” he said, his voice signaling that disbelief should be immediately suspended.

“Mike Shields used to lend me his beat-up truck, and we’d put a megaphone on it and drive around on game day, trying to get people to come to the game. We really did. We didn’t have an identity then. I’d go into recruits’ homes and they couldn’t even pronounce Gonzaga.”

Now it’s only assorted TV talking heads who can’t – and the loudspeaker gets cranked up so player intros can be heard over the din on game night.

Adrian Buoncristiani enjoyed the most recent one in a seat across the court from the students, amazed at the vibe and the visceral delights of Zags basketball. But the most amazing revelation was this:

It was the first Gonzaga game the man they used to call “ABC” had seen on campus since the last one he coached, 40 years ago.

So what took him so long?

“I got fired here,” he said. “I’d been successful all my life in everything I did. I just felt funny about it. Awkward. But this time, my wife said ‘They’re reaching out to you – you need to do it.’ ”

Well, it’s understandable. Baristas and bank tellers who get the boot don’t pilgrimage to their old work places, reminiscing about how it was back in the day.

But this wasn’t about a grudge. He tunes in for every Zags game on ESPN or Root, flabbergasted at all they’ve achieved.

“I’ve always held the school in high regard,” Buoncristiani said. “It wasn’t the school that fired me as such – it was an individual. The school has always been outstanding, especially as far as getting kids graduated. Every one of my players graduated except one – Kenny Tyler. They’re really involved with kids here.”

But so was ABC – energized, enthusiastic and so caught up in the notion of having his own program, in fact, that some details escaped him.

This was 1972. Hank Anderson – who had steered Gonzaga into Division I, helped create the Big Sky Conference and beat the drum to build the old Kennel – called it a day after 20 years and headed off to Montana State. The school then took a chance on a 31-year-old assistant at UC Santa Barbara, a 5-foot-5 former backup guard at Santa Clara.

“I was so excited that I didn’t ask them the specifics – like salary,” he said. “I found out that it was $12,000. And no recruiting budget. I talked the school into giving us 150 season tickets and I sold them and that was the start of the Hoop Club. Then we sold 2-for-1 coupon books. That’s what we recruited on.”

He snagged a few gems on the economy plan. Stew Morrill, the big center teammates called “Morms” whose LDS mother made ABC promise to “take care of my boy” on a campus run by Jesuits. The quicksilver Tyler. Jim Grady, still the only Zag to lead his team in scoring, rebounding and assists in the same season.

Buoncristiani could never coax the record beyond .500 – he was 78-82 in six years, perfectly reasonable given the school’s investment at the time. But nearly six weeks after the ’78 season and days before the signing period for recruits, he was dismissed.

Harry Missildine, legendary columnist at The Spokesman-Review, called it “outrageous” and then added “stupid” – hard talk from Harry.

Buoncristiani then made his career in the shoe and apparel game, first with Converse and then Champion – settling in Carson City, Nevada, where he and wife Ann raised three children, including a son, Lance, who played a year at Idaho. When Ross Rettenmier, a former player, and GU athletic director Mike Roth finally coaxed him for the USF game, Buoncristiani was stunned to be met by daughters Dana and Gina and his grandchildren who had flown in from California.

In ABC fashion, he got a little emotional about it all.

Buoncristiani played on an NCAA Tournament team as a junior at Santa Clara, and swaps emails with schoolmates who these days mostly grump about the state of Broncos basketball – and debate the merits of any Gonzaga-like investment.

“But quite frankly, if it wasn’t for the basketball program, Gonzaga academically and with contributions wouldn’t be where they are now,” he said. “When they turned the corner in ’99, they had the presence of mind to see how much name recognition was going to help the school. If you ever do get it going, you have to take advantage of it.”

Riding around in that beater truck with the loudspeaker 40 years ago, Adrian Buoncristiani may have indulged the same thought.