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Steve Alford might be new to New Mexico, but he's a legend in Indiana

By Jeremy Fowler
Tuesday, July 17, 2007

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Pieces of Alford

Steve Alford's legacy in his home state of Indiana can be remembered in many ways. Here's a breakdown:

The hair: It started as a traditional part down the middle of his scalp that has evolved into Pat Riley's slicked-back 'do.

The shoes: Alford's green-and-white Converse high-tops from New Castle High School are featured in the Indiana Basketball Hall of Fame.

The shorts: Alford represented the high-cut, thigh-showing style of the 1980s.

The frame: From his skinny arms to his average jumping ability, Alford was the unassuming Everyman who resonated with the Indiana people.

The jersey: Check out the Steve Alford All-American Inn in New Castle, Ind. Hanging from the wall are his jerseys from New Castle High, the Indiana Hoosiers and the 1984 U.S. Olympic team.

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"As far as Indiana legends go, Larry Bird is the first name you usually hear. Then Alford's the second."

Justin Brown, Franklin, Ind. native

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FRANKLIN, Ind. — With a basketball resting on each chair, Steve Alford shuffles back and forth, grabs and shoots.

This is a natural fit for Alford — about 15 feet from the hoop, always in motion, awaiting the inevitable swish while explaining the drill to his basketball congregation.

About 400 teenagers, who had been rambunctiously throwing Skittles in the hallway of the gym just minutes before, listen to the Indiana legend as if hearing words from on high.

Proud fathers beam from the rafters of the Franklin College gym in small-town Franklin, Ind.

"He's still the man; look at that," an adult spectator says under his breath as Alford swishes and talks with relative ease on a June afternoon. "He's one of the greatest."

Alford is conveying the importance of moving without the ball and being ready to shoot at any time. But almost everyone in the gym knows the message runs deeper.

The Hoosier dream — a love of basketball that begins in childhood and lasts until the grave — is pinned to an insatiable drive called Hard Work.

That's the Indiana way, and Alford is an Indiana boy, from his parted hair to his aw-shucks attitude to his high-topped, green-and-white Converses from high school.

To many here in the Heartland, Alford remains a legend more than two decades after creating his myth out of sweat and toughness.

Oh, Alford's gone now — off to a desert outpost 1,300 miles from home. But people here say that if Alford's past is any indication, he'll be able to duplicate the magic as he coaches the struggling University of New Mexico Lobos.

That, of course, remains to be seen: UNM has fallen on hard times. But in Indiana, where Alford's image is so pristine that the only dirt on the guy is a speeding ticket he got a week after receiving a driver's license, he remains a high apostle of hoops.

"Every time I put a credit card down in almost any restaurant in Indiana, they always ask me if I'm related to Steve," said Sean Alford, Steve's brother, a pharmaceutical rep in Indianapolis. "His name really carries here. They still love him."

The Indiana way had Alford, who preferred shooting over socializing, working for hours on the green-trimmed court of the New Castle Fieldhouse, Indiana's cathedral that holds 9,325 spectators, half the city's population.

A 16-year-old Alford took his father's car keys daily to hit the Fieldhouse for an individual session that sometimes lasted five hours.

Many close to Alford use the word obsession when describing his love for basketball. Two feet of Indiana snow didn't stop Alford from shoveling the driveway for a basketball session with snow gloves on.

All that hard work propelled a step-too-slow, inch-too-short guard like Alford — skinny, 6-foot-2, average athleticism — to elite Indiana status as one of all-time best in the basketball-rich state. Indiana's Mr. Basketball in 1983, Alford scored 37 points per game for New Castle High School in New Castle, Ind., the same town that still pays homage to its hero.

That same flick of the wrist he showed his campers helped him score 2,438 career points for the national champion Indiana Hoosiers in 1987; a school record later broken by Calbert Cheaney in 1993. Alford was the only Hoosier to win the team MVP award in each of his four years.

"As far as Indiana legends go, Larry Bird is the first name you usually hear," said 24-year-old Franklin native Justin Brown. "Then Alford's the second."

This reputation has carried Alford through the national spotlight for years, and his hiring in March gave much-needed name recognition to a UNM program that owns one NCAA Tournament appearance in the past eight years.

UNM Athletics Director Paul Krebs says Alford's pedigree, along with his coaching success in eight seasons at Iowa, merits his $975,000 annual salary.

Whatever he does as a coach might never match his Indiana fame. The wedding of Steve and Tanya Alford almost 20 years ago was televised by nearly every media outlet in Indiana.

"Around here, he can really do no wrong," said Jess Guffey, a close friend of the Alford family. "After he won the title (with the Hoosiers), he could have been elected the governor of the state by a landslide. It's almost as if it was all laid out for him."

The foundation

On almost any afternoon around 4 p.m. in New Castle, a city of about 18,000, you can find T-shirts scattered on the sidelines of the Fieldhouse's checkered, parquet floor, which is reminiscent of the Boston Garden.

The skins are the varsity, the shirted guys are New Castle alumni who plan to humble the young pups.

The musky air, outdated ceiling lights and a 48-year-old mystique of the gym remind you that this is the Hoosiers state. This is where nine of the 10 largest high school gyms in the nation reside, with the Fieldhouse topping the list.

Other pale, skinny, shirtless ones are waiting for their fearless leader, coach Steve Bennett, to call their name.

Bennett leans in his wooden chair, yelling at his players, his cheeks red, his arms folded. Parents in the stands thrust their body language forward as if it was a state championship game.

Such is the state of mind at New Castle High, where every scrimmage draws you closer to the dream.

Alford helped teach them as much, New Castle natives say.

"When Steve walks into the gym here, everything stops," Bennett said. "He'll come here and he'll say hello to old friends, and it's like everybody freezes. He helped build this house."

Some say the way Alford played influenced New Castle's style of play today. Here's evidence: In a recent summer scrimmage, both teams shot a combined 12 3-pointers in 15 trips down the court. Alford was one of the 20 best shooters in college basketball history, according to a list presented by CBS Sports in early April. He also was named No. 35 on the list of 100 Greatest Division I College Basketball Players by the Sporting News.

Shooting jumpers helped Alford light up packed houses for 37 points per game while his dad coached the New Castle Trojans in the Fieldhouse.

The hardwood coincidence is this: The field house truly looks like a micro version of Albuquerque's Pit. Both were structured from a deep hole in the ground with rows of bench seating.

The adoration

If Alford misses New Castle, he can always phone home by calling 1-877-55STEVE.

That will put him through to the All-American Inn, where guests walk in to see a life-size poster board of Alford driving to the hoop in an Indiana uniform. On the hotel's lawn rests a 10-foot, red-and-black shoe made of Fiberglas.

The lobby also has a big locker with four jerseys hanging, each from one of Alford head coaching stops — Division-III Manchester College, Southwest Missouri State, Iowa (the outdoor shoe used to be yellow) and New Mexico.

A Bible verse — which says godliness trumps bodily training — sits framed by the check-in desk with the phrase "more than winning" above it.

Everything from green-and-black New Castle jerseys, framed box scores from Alford's days as a guard for the 1984 U.S. Olympic team, media guides from every coaching stop and newspaper articles from the 1980s decorate this Best Western-style joint owned by Alford's friend Kenny Cox.

And don't forget the All-American notepads. "Have an All-American stay," they say.

Over the top? Maybe.

A good night's sleep? Probably.

A city of about 18,000 showing love for Alford? Definitely.

"I don't know if there's anybody in that town that doesn't know what Steve Alford has done for it," said Tom Jarvis, a New Castle native. "He's our celebrity."

The hoop

A slice of the Midwest basketball dream doesn't surrender to 94-degree heat or a sun that turns white backs red.

Boys will play, moms will bring water for the boys and a tan Labrador will bark from his cage.

This was a typical Wednesday in June for Jonathan Deater and Roo Standeford, 14-year-old buddies from Shelbyville, Ind., who had just completed the Steve Alford Basketball Camp in nearby Franklin.

Time to apply Alford's advice.

Keep those feet balanced when shooting those free throws. Don't settle for contested jump shots. Shuffle your feet on defense.

But the boys soon ditch fundamentals for one-on-one play, with hundreds of cornfield rows in attendance for this event.

In this basketball state, boys like Standeford and Deater don't shoot hoops for kicks or the chance to break in a new pair of Jordans. They follow the blueprint formed by players in the mold of Alford.

"Someone like Steve Alford motivates us to be great players," said Deater, who says he's now a New Mexico fan. "He played for Indiana. He's one of the best."

Many from Alford's 20th annual camp are hoping to one day make a run at the coveted Mr. Basketball award earned by the state's best high school player.

Alford belongs in the elite club that includes past greats Oscar Robertson, Glenn Robinson and Damon Bailey, and more modern heroes like Jared Jeffries and Greg Oden, recently the No. 1 pick in the NBA draft.

Still, it's not as if every teenager is watching Alford's dust-filled New Castle High School game tape from 1983.

"I've heard his name before, but that's about it," said Dillon Wade, 14. "My parents love him."

Alford's move to New Mexico after eight seasons of coaching at Iowa could cause the casual Alford fan to lose interest. Or it's possible more red-and-silver shirts will float through the Midwest because of his fame.

Besides, the essence of his Indiana worth stretches from indoor and outdoor hoops from Indianapolis to Anderson to Elkhart to Homer.

Hoops stand tall on storage bins, barns doors, suburban driveways, and church parking lots throughout the state. They range from rusty to rustic, but most are well-used. Well-loved.

As long as the hoop is in the Hoosier state, Alford would feel at home shooting on it. And people in Indiana will feel at home watching his evolution, even to a place far, far away.

"He's still every kid's dream in a lot of ways," Guffey said. "The love for basketball tradition will always be here."