Greg Keraghosian

Bibby winner as a coach, loser as a family man

You have to hand it to Henry Bibby. All week long, the USC head coach deflected the media microscope about a certain subplot to Thursday night's game against Arizona by declining to talk about it.
     He said the contest wasn't about his Trojans facing his estranged son Mike for the first time. It was about his team--still mostly an unknown commodity, even at 7-5--facing the No. 6 team in the country. While feature after feature emerged about his son's open disdain for the way his father left him and his mother to achieve his coaching dream, you couldn't get a word out of the elder Bibby.
     And lo and behold, USC upset the Wildcats, 75-62, and the most scrutinized player on the court was an invisible man by game's end, as the much-heralded son had as many points as fouls (four). The father's Trojans win their biggest game of the year thus far and seem to have turned the corner, becoming a formidable team. Furthermore, Henry Bibby may have turned the corner as a coach.
     But at what price should career success be gained? For Henry Bibby, that price is his family, and that is a hefty price indeed.
     That could be ascertained by the scene after the game. Though Mike Bibby didn't make much news on the court Thursday night, it wasn't going to quell the media afterward. But when reporters jockeyed their way into the Arizona locker room, a sullen Bibby wouldn't say much of anything--except that he wasn't talking.
     Question after question, Bibby declined to talk, politely but firmly. Still, we scribes stuck around just in case something happened--and it did, when Henry Bibby met his son just outside the locker room door.
     After ushering away reporters, Henry spoke a few words to Mike, exchanged a reserved hug with him and left. It wasn't exactly a storybook scene.
     But these two weren't the only members of the Bibby clan present. Virginia, Mike's mother and the one he credits with getting him to where he is, shared her feelings afterward. The main feeling was evident.
     "I'm just relieved," she said with a sigh and a modest grin. "No more suspense."
     Virginia said she made no eye contact with Henry. The two are on just as cold terms as Mike is with his father. You could hardly blame her, considering her husband left her to raise her three children alone. It's doubtful they'll ever reconcile.
     And there was another prominent family figure in attendance--Henry's 21-year-old son Hank, who is an undergrad here. His story probably speaks the loudest.
     On the surface, you'd think Henry had salvaged something here. After all, as was not the case with Mike, Hank did want to attend the same school that employs his father. There's even a picture in the USC media guide showing the two posing together.
     Hank tried to tip-toe around the issue after the game, but the message made was clear: The relationship is not what it seems.
     "There's a misconception of who is close and who is not close in the family," Hank said. "Me, my brother, my sister, my mom--we were all in the same boat. My feelings are the same feelings Mike has. There's a lot more to this than needs to be written in the papers... It's far from ideal."
     True to his midweek form, father Bibby wouldn't elaborate much on his relationship with his son. All he would say was: "I think a lot of Mike. He's my son." Bibby even hedged when asked to describe his son's on-court performance.
     But what could he say when the answer was so obvious? This is a guy who went to great lengths to establish himself as a coach. He traveled from city to city, country to country. He endured NCAA ostracism for 10 years because of his firing from Arizona State in 1985. That's one heck of a tour of duty.
     But in doing so, he had to make the decision so many of us make in our career pursuits--that of prioritizing work and family goals. It's difficult for all of us; I may well experience the same dilemma if I continue the reporting life. And Bibby isn't alone in his profession, considering workaholics like Jimmy Johnson who live and breathe sports. Johnson isn't married, but he's got some Super Bowl rings on his fingers.
     Bibby chose his path, probably well aware of the consequences. Today he can bask in the glory of beating a fine team, beating his son, and taking a large step in being taken seriously in the coaching fraternity. Whether he can live with it 10 or 20 years from now remains to be seen, but he won't live with it along with his family. It's a coaching decision he can't change.


Copyright 1997 by the Daily Trojan. All rights reserved.
This article was published in Vol. 130, No. 07 (Friday, January 17, 1997), beginning on page 8 and ending on page 5.