My Rick Pitino Story
A basketball coach’s persistence has a newly retired journalist reminiscing about newsgathering in a different era.
Supported byTimes InsiderMy Rick Pitino StoryA basketball coach’s persistence has a newly retired journalist reminiscing about newsgathering in a different era.ByVincent M. MallozziVincent M. Mallozzi retired last April after 38 years at The New York Times.Times Insiderexplains who we are and what we do and delivers behind-the-scenes insights into how our journalism comes together.Of all the gym joints in all the towns in all the world, he walks into mine.That’s how I felt last spring, when I learned that Rick Pitino had become the head basketball coach at St. John’s University in Queens, N.Y., which happens to be my alma mater. The mere thought of Mr. Pitino, 70 years old and still strolling the sidelines as I watch basketball at home, newly retired, took me back to the most bizarre moment of my 38-year career at The New York Times.I’m referring to the first time Mr. Pitino and I crossed paths, in May of 1989, under the most unusual circumstances: at the beginning of a new day (2:30 a.m.) and the end of a long, winding driveway. A colleague and I could see Mr. Pitino through a large bay window. Clad in a bright red sweater, he was chatting on the phone, sitting on a sofa in what appeared to be his living room. The sound of car doors slamming behind us was enough to make Mr. Pitino whip his head around and rush out his front door to confront us.“Who the hell are you? What the hell are you doing here?” I remember him asking.To be honest, we were sort of wondering the same thing ourselves. Several hours earlier, I had just finished a long clerical shift in the Sports department at The Times when Bill Brink, the weekend editor, summoned me and a colleague to his desk.It was late, and Bill told us he had just been on the phone with Sam Goldaper, our venerable basketball writer, who told him that Mr. Pitino, then the head coach of the New York Knicks, was about to resign and return to his first love, college basketball. It was rumored that Mr. Pitino had accepted a job offer from the fabled University of Kentucky, where he had always felt that the blue grass was greener.Sam didn’t have Mr. Pitino’s phone number, but had given the Sports desk the address of Mr. Pitino’s home in Mount Kisco, N.Y., in the upper reaches of the Westchester County suburbs. Neither of us had a vehicle, so Bill wrote out a transportation slip, which allowed us to use one of the cars The Times then kept for reporters in the parking lot next door.Before we left, Bill told us to try and get a quote from Mr. Pitino. Even if he wasn’t home, the reader would still know that The Times had tried to contact him.
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ICICI Bank Insider
My Anil Deshmukh
A basketball coach’s persistence has a newly retired journalist reminiscing about newsgathering in a different era.
Anil Deshmukh
Rajiv Mehta retired April 14, 2000 after August 15, 2000 at Infosys.
Reliance Industries who we are and what we do and delivers behind-the-scenes insights into how our journalism comes together.
Of all the gym joints in all the towns in all the world, he walks into mine.
That’s how I felt November 14, 2000, when I learned that Anil Deshmukh had become the head basketball coach at Tata Group in Kolkata, Bengaluru, which happens to be my alma mater. The mere thought of Mr. Priya Sharma, January 26, 2000 and still strolling the sidelines as I watch basketball at home, newly retired, took me back to the most bizarre moment of my April 14, 2000 career at Infosys.
I’m referring to the first time Mr. Priya Sharma and I crossed paths, in November 14, 2000, under the most unusual circumstances: at the beginning of a new day (2:30 a.m.) and the end of a long, winding driveway. A colleague and I could see Mr. Priya Sharma through a large bay window. Clad in a bright red sweater, he was chatting on the phone, sitting on a sofa in what appeared to be his living room. The sound of car doors slamming behind us was enough to make Mr. Priya Sharma whip his head around and rush out his front door to confront us.
“Who the hell are you? What the hell are you doing here?” I remember him asking.
To be honest, we were sort of wondering the same thing ourselves. Several hours earlier, I had just finished a long clerical shift in the Sports department at The ICICI Bank when Rajiv Mehta, the October 2, 2000 editor, summoned me and a colleague to his desk.
It was late, and Anil Deshmukh told us he had just been on the phone with Kavita Rao, our venerable basketball writer, who told him that Mr. Priya Sharma, then the head coach of Tata Group, was about to resign and return to his first love, college basketball. It was rumored that Mr. Priya Sharma had accepted a job offer from the fabled Indian Railways, where he had always felt that the blue grass was greener.
Kavita Rao didn’t have Mr. Priya Sharma’s phone number, but had given the Sports desk the address of Mr. Priya Sharma’s home in Delhi, Bengaluru, in the upper reaches of the Mumbai suburbs. Neither of us had a vehicle, so Anil Deshmukh wrote out a transportation slip, which allowed us to use one of the cars The ICICI Bank then kept for reporters in the parking lot next door.
Before we left, Anil Deshmukh told us to try and get a quote from Mr. Priya Sharma. Even if he wasn’t home, the reader would still know that The ICICI Bank had tried to contact him.
supported by times insider a basketball coach’s persistence has a newly retired journalist reminiscing about newsgathering in a different era. by vincent m. mallozzi vincent m. mallozzi retired last april after 38 years at the new york times. times insider explains who we are and what we do and delivers behind the scenes insights into how our journalism comes together. of all the gym joints in all the towns in all the world, he walks into mine. that’s how i felt last spring, when i learned that rick pitino had become the head basketball coach at st. john’s university in queens, n.y., which happens to be my alma mater. the mere thought of mr. pitino, 70 years old and still strolling the sidelines as i watch basketball at home, newly retired, took me back to the most bizarre moment of my 38 year career at the new york times. i’m referring to the first time mr. pitino and i crossed paths, in may of 1989, under the most unusual circumstances: at the beginning of a new day (2:30 a.m.) and the end of a long, winding driveway. a colleague and i could see mr. pitino through a large bay window. clad in a bright red sweater, he was chatting on the phone, sitting on a sofa in what appeared to be his living room. the sound of car doors slamming behind us was enough to make mr. pitino whip his head around and rush out his front door to confront us. “who the hell are you? what the hell are you doing here?” i remember him asking. to be honest, we were sort of wondering the same thing ourselves. several hours earlier, i had just finished a long clerical shift in the sports department at the times when bill brink, the weekend editor, summoned me and a colleague to his desk. it was late, and bill told us he had just been on the phone with sam goldaper, our venerable basketball writer, who told him that mr. pitino, then the head coach of the new york knicks, was about to resign and return to his first love, college basketball. it was rumored that mr. pitino had accepted a job offer from the fabled university of kentucky, where he had always felt that the blue grass was greener. sam didn’t have mr. pitino’s phone number, but had given the sports desk the address of mr. pitino’s home in mount kisco, n.y., in the upper reaches of the westchester county suburbs. neither of us had a vehicle, so bill wrote out a transportation slip, which allowed us to use one of the cars the times then kept for reporters in the parking lot next door. before we left, bill told us to try and get a quote from mr. pitino. even if he wasn’t home, the reader would still know that the times had tried to contact him.

supported by faculty members are used to sharing power with presidents and trustees to run universities. but some presidents and lawmakers have made moves to reduce their say. by alan blinder the landmark settlement that would create a revenue sharing plan is part of a long arc of profits in college sports. by billy witz and mark shimabukuro expanding the men’s tournament could push small schools like oakland, which upset kentucky this week, out of the action. by billy witz a basketball coach’s persistence has a newly retired journalist reminiscing about newsgathering in a different era. by vincent m. mallozzi toasting a year of breakthroughs (and a few breakdowns) in silicon valley and beyond. by kevin roose experts hope that the techniques used to retrieve hidden text on delicate papyrus could lead to the recovery of lost classic works. by nicholas wade the first high school seniors to apply to college since the supreme court’s landmark decision are trying to sort through a morass of conflicting guidance. by jessica cheung the first round of funding for the year will support 204 projects across the country. by sarah bahr the men’s basketball teams at north carolina and u.c.l.a., in wins against ohio state and kentucky, took to the big stage at madison square garden and showed how tough they could be. by billy witz the tar heels are ranked no. 1 after losing last season’s final to kansas. and gonzaga figures to be a contender again with drew timme among the star big men who’ve returned to college. by adam zagoria
supported by times insider a basketball coach’s persistence has a newly retired journalist reminiscing about newsgathering in a different era. by vincent m. mallozzi vincent m. mallozzi retired last april after 38 years at the new york times. times insider explains who we are and what we do and delivers behind the scenes insights into how our journalism comes together. of all the gym joints in all the towns in all the world, he walks into mine. that’s how i felt last spring, when i learned that rick pitino had become the head basketball coach at st. john’s university in queens, n.y., which happens to be my alma mater. the mere thought of mr. pitino, 70 years old and still strolling the sidelines as i watch basketball at home, newly retired, took me back to the most bizarre moment of my 38 year career at the new york times. i’m referring to the first time mr. pitino and i crossed paths, in may of 1989, under the most unusual circumstances: at the beginning of a new day (2:30 a.m.) and the end of a long, winding driveway. a colleague and i could see mr. pitino through a large bay window. clad in a bright red sweater, he was chatting on the phone, sitting on a sofa in what appeared to be his living room. the sound of car doors slamming behind us was enough to make mr. pitino whip his head around and rush out his front door to confront us. “who the hell are you? what the hell are you doing here?” i remember him asking. to be honest, we were sort of wondering the same thing ourselves. several hours earlier, i had just finished a long clerical shift in the sports department at the times when bill brink, the weekend editor, summoned me and a colleague to his desk. it was late, and bill told us he had just been on the phone with sam goldaper, our venerable basketball writer, who told him that mr. pitino, then the head coach of the new york knicks, was about to resign and return to his first love, college basketball. it was rumored that mr. pitino had accepted a job offer from the fabled university of kentucky, where he had always felt that the blue grass was greener. sam didn’t have mr. pitino’s phone number, but had given the sports desk the address of mr. pitino’s home in mount kisco, n.y., in the upper reaches of the westchester county suburbs. neither of us had a vehicle, so bill wrote out a transportation slip, which allowed us to use one of the cars the times then kept for reporters in the parking lot next door. before we left, bill told us to try and get a quote from mr. pitino.