While playing football in a physical education course as a UCLA
student in the early ’60s, Gary Adams tore a ligament in his
knee. As he lay in a hospital bed, the skinny second baseman
worried about only one thing: that his baseball scholarship would
be taken away if he couldn’t perform athletically.
Adams, who had grown up poor, had no other way of paying for his
education. But at that moment, his coach, Art Reichal, walked into
his room and put all fears to rest.
“It was like he read my mind,” Adams said.
“The first thing he wanted to tell me was that I would still
have my scholarship. That gave me a good impression of what a coach
should be: thoughtful, caring, considerate.”
It was a crucial moment. That vote of confidence from UCLA 40
years ago set Adams on a path that would never stray far from
Westwood.
That path might take a detour very soon, however. Athletic
director Dan Guerrero refused to renew UCLA’s vote of
confidence in Adams last week, leading some to believe that
Adams’ 29-year reign over UCLA baseball may be over.
Surprisingly, it was quite a bit of luck that allowed Adams to
take control of the kingdom in the first place.
After a complete recovery from his knee injury, a future in
professional baseball was, literally, knocking at Adams’
door. A scout for the Kansas City Athletics had just signed his
twin brother Gene, and Gary was ready to add his name to a
contract. But Reichal then called him and offered a position as
assistant coach.
Despite a desire to play in the Major Leagues, Adams found
himself saying “yes” on the phone.
“I never really saw myself as being much more than a AA
player, so this was a great opportunity for me,” Adams
said.
After a stint as a UCLA assistant, Adams moved on to the head
coaching position at UC Irvine. In 1973 and ’74, his Anteater
teams won back-to-back Division II NCAA championships. Gary was on
top of the world, but things were about to get even better. In that
same year Reichal retired, paving the way for Adams to return to
UCLA.
“I happened to be in the right place in the right time
when Reichal retired,” Adams said. “The timing of that
telephone call, the timing of winning two championships ““ the
timing for me was good. That’s why I’ve always been so
grateful of what I am and what I’m doing.”
Even if it were simply a matter of fortune that opened the door
for him, Adams quickly cemented himself as one of the top managers
in college baseball. Adams has won 924 games, including four Pac-10
titles, since taking over at UCLA. He has put more Bruins in the
major league than any other active coach, including two Rookies of
the Year and a World Series Most Valuable Player.
He’s also had three academic All-Americans, an
accomplishment that makes Adams especially proud. The same
qualities that Reichal displayed are virtues that Gary has tried to
emulate over his long career.
“I have five daughters, so my players are my sons,”
Adams said. “I have a real high regard and love for my
players ““ each and every one of them.”
But for all his success, something is notably missing: a
national championship. In all his time at UCLA, only the 1997 squad
ever made the College World Series. The 2000 team came close,
losing in the Super Regionals to eventual national champion
Louisiana State. Still, baseball is one of the few sports at UCLA
that does not regularly compete for the conference title or an NCAA
championship.
Recent history is more dismal. The past three seasons have seen
the team finish seventh, sixth and sixth, respectively. After three
decades as the face of UCLA baseball, it appears as though the
athletic department is tired of waiting. Guerrero has insinuated
that he expects UCLA to compete for the Pac-10 title and national
championships every season, something that does not bode well for
Gary Adams.
Many things have conspired to keep a national title away from
UCLA: inadequate facilities, strict recruiting policies and the
Major League draft. According to Adams, the reality of the
situation may be more complicated than simply examining a won-loss
record.
“I believe that it can be accomplished at UCLA most years,
but not every year due to the nature of the professional draft, the
academic standards and the limitations on baseball scholarships
that now exist,” Adams said. “I believe that I can lead
this school to a national championship, but it isn’t
easy.”
Recruiting top quality talent can be a chore. Adams refuses to
go after poor academic performers, and when coupled with the lack
of an on-campus stadium, prime recruits can be a difficult
sell.
“There are some players we don’t even battle for
that other schools in our conference can get. But I’m not
going to waste time because they won’t be successful
here,” Adams said. “Also, when we’re recruiting,
I can see the looks on their faces when they find out we
don’t have a field on campus. Let’s face it: It’s
a drawback. I worry all the time about my players crossing
Sepulveda.”
But in a twist of irony, Adams is perhaps a victim of his own
success. The major league draft has sapped talent away from UCLA
more than any other university. The most perfect examples are the
past three years. After the 2000 season, 12 players were drafted
into the Major Leagues, setting a new record. The best players on
the squad left, and the top recruits never even suited up for the
Bruins.
“You have to anticipate that you’ll lose some guys,
but I never dreamed we’d lose that many. That was a hammer
that hit us very hard,” Adams said. “We knew we were in
trouble because our cycle was interrupted.”
The very thing that has made Adams famous might also be the root
of his downfall. His greatest legacy is also the source of his
greatest criticism.
“You can still have a diploma in one hand, a ring on a
finger, and a multi million dollar contract in the other,”
Adams said. After a short pause, he chuckles as he remarks on his
career at UCLA. “We’ve been very successful at two out
of three, haven’t we?”