Doc: Mick Cronin finding calm easier said than done
Paul Daugherty, pdaugherty@enquirer.com 4:36 p.m. EST January 2, 2015
Mick Cronin talks to reporters during a press conference Friday. (Photo: The Enquirer/Meg Vogel)
Coaching big-time college basketball is a license to go insane for a couple hours a few times a week. If the rest of us behaved like basketball coaches, we'd either be locked up, fired or studied in psychology class. Maybe all three.
Mick Cronin is stepping away from his insanity for the next three months, at least. He has something called an "arterial dissection'' in his brain. It isn't exactly the unruptured aneurysm we'd all thought, but it's nothing to be messed with. Cronin is being advised by doctors to relax and keep his blood pressure as normal as possible. Coaching is not quite part of his treatment.
He spoke openly and at length with the heathen media Friday, so all of us could move on. Because he is a coach, Cronin worries first about his team. "In my mind, I already cost us one game,'' he lamented. That would be the home loss to VCU Dec. 20, when he told his players an hour before the game he wouldn't be coaching them that day.
"Thank god I had symptoms,'' Cronin said.
In the back of the cramped media room, Mick's father Hep sat and listened. He knows Mick the way only a father can know his son. Even by that standard, their bond is extraordinary. Hep coached more than 400 winning basketball games at Roger Bacon, Oak Hills and La Salle. He was Mick's high school coach. He travels with him, when the Bearcats are on the road.
He understands his son. He understands coaching, and the bad things the stress of it can do to a person. issues. Mick says to Hep, "I have an unruptured aneurysm in my brain.'' Hep answers, "I had three of 'em. Five-way (heart) bypass, in '96.''
Hep went on coaching after the doctors fixed him. But he was never the same, and that was good.
"I wasn't as volatile,'' he said. "It became more of a life thing than an immediate gain. I even think you become a better coach. You realize that one play isn't the end of the world. One play might affect 10 plays, if you're able to handle it differently. He'll calm down.''
Hep even suggested an emergency similar to Mick's "would probably be good for all young coaches. Maybe they'd all calm down.'' He said it jokingly. Somewhat.
This isn't to suggest that the frequent bouts of temporary nuttiness had anything to do with Mick Cronin's condition. No one knows. "It's not because I was yelling at a referee,'' he said. As it was explained by doctors to Hep, "It could be a golf swing, snapping your neck. Bumping your head on the end table. They don't know.''
Cronin had severe, relentless headaches for several days. UC's medical people suggested he get a CAT scan. He did. Now, all he has to do is listen to his doctors' advice.
The wonder isn't that this happened to Mick Cronin. The wonder is it hasn't happened to more coaches. Watching Bob Huggins now, more than 12 years after his heart attack, can be a nerve-jangling proposition. He's no less animated on the sidelines. He has put on weight. Every time I see him in full throat, face sweaty and crimson, I cringe.
Coaching is not a job for the faint of heart. I wonder how Huggins' heart still manages.
Mick Cronin says he will do what the doctors tell him. On Friday, he sounded as content as possible not to be the Bearcats' hands-on basketball coach. He won't attend practice. He'll watch games at home on TV. He will act as overseer the rest of the time. "Pat Riley,'' he said, "with no rings, no hair and no tan.''
It won't be as easy as he made it sound Friday. No coach is OK with spectating, even if his health and life depend on it. Huggins nearly died. He still rages. The trick for Mick is to temper the rage.
He's as up for it as any coach. Cronin works out diligently, doesn't drink and is picky about what he eats. His biggest vice is smoking the occasional $12 cigar. Cronin probably doesn't weigh 10 pounds more than he did in high school.
But he is a college basketball coach, with all that implies. It's a crazy way to make a living, and not always good for your health. Cronin's daughter Sammi might have offered advice every bit as sound as what Hep provided.
"If you have a headache,'' the 8-year-old suggested, "just don't coach. That way, you don't have to scream and yell.''
Easier said than done.
http://www.cincinnati.com/story/sports/c.../21193675/