The very best of Rick Pitino’s teams didn’t just win buckets of basketball games. It was more than that. Eery signature team he’s ever had has been defined — fairly or unfairly — by the same common trait: They played beautiful, often exquisite, ball on the offensive side of the floor.
Providence? Pitino handed Billy Donovan the ball and said, “Go.” And those Friars were a blast to watch, undersized and under-skilled and firing up the brand-new toy of the 3-point shot and running all 94 feet by 50 feet, piling up deflections and steals and diving on the floor like CYO sixth graders promised a quarter for every loose ball they gobbled up.
Louisville? As Pitino said: “That team excelled at the matchup zone,” and they were still aggressive on that end but they earned their scholarships and lifted a championship banner (which actually happened, no matter what the NCAA record book says) thanks to a whole lot of clutch shooting in a procession of do-or-die moments.
Kentucky? Pitino, again: “That was one of the best teams of all time,” and so of course they excelled on the defensive end, too. But those Wildcats were such prodigious prodigies offensively they could erase 30-point deficits on the road, as they did one night at LSU. Everyone could shoot. Even the walk-ons could make shooting look as easy as breathing.
