Rebels with out a cause... A look at the 1990 UNLV Running Rebels

Time has the tendency to fly by. If your eyes stutter-step, you miss a day. Fall asleep, you miss a month. Get caught up in work, you miss a year. This point was hammered home today, when I got a message from my boy that read this: “Your blogs would carry a lot more weight with me if they focused on: And 1 Mixtapes, High School Basketball All-Star Games, and Classic College Hoops…it's like I don't even know who you are anymore!”

As I read that, I realized it has been just about 20 years since the UNLV Runnin’ Rebels ruled the world, and were owners of an NCAA Championship. That means it’s been 20 years since Houston’s own Larry Johnson, Greg “The Mouth” Anthony, Anderson Hunt, and Stacey “Plastic Man” Augmon held court on the Strip like it was never held before and hasn’t been since.

My memories need little jogging, since, as a kid my first real memories of college basketball came courtesy of Jerry Tarkanian and his basketball machine based out of Las Vegas.

UNLV ‘s basketball team once ruled college basketball like the mob once ruled Las Vegas. 

The Runnin’ Rebels didn’t just beat teams; they annihilated opponents with a flurry of athletic talent and sheer intensity. Forget the work-it-around-the-perimeter-and-wait-for-a-good-shot mentality…it never would have played in a town that allows slot machines in the john. This team had things to do after the game. Parties to attend. People to see. They wanted to outshoot you, outhustle you, outbreak you and—most importantly—outscore you. The ’89-90 team averaged 93.5 points per game—including 16 games of 100 points or more—while holding opponents to 78.5.

Bordering the infamous Strip, which was less Disney-fied in those days, the University of Nevada-Las Vegas had the perfect attitude to represent its gun-slinging city: flashy, gaudy, high-rolling, glittering, over-the-top basketball.

The season started with a win over Loyola Marymount and culminated with a 103-73 demolition of Duke in the Championship Game…the biggest margin of victory in an NCAA title game and quite possibly the most embarrassing loss in Blue Devils history.

But, I'm getting ahead of my self…

Take a look at the four No. 1 seeds in last year's NCAA tournament... Kansas’ roster was filled with guys who had been playing college ball for, what, 20 straight years? Yet, they haven't managed to make any connection with the public… Syracuse…no buzz… And Duke, who had hit a modern low, because nobody even bothers to really hate them anymore (even though they did win it all).

John Wall, DeMarcus Cousins, Eric Bledsoe, Patrick Patterson and John Calipari were all on the covers of sports magazines and still, it didn’t really resonate.

When is the last time that a college squad really had any cultural relevance?

The only team that comes to mind is Michigan's 1993 Team which was given the nick name the "Fab Five" (and they didn't win a title)

Twenty years ago, UNLV ran college basketball. That team transcended college basketball and has really gotten little credit for the cultural effect it has had on hoops (Michigan’s Fab Five takes the credit, and I’m not sure why).  Their swagger was that authentic, and the best way to describe that team, in a word…”gangster” (ask anyone who is familiar with that squad and you will get a similar response). Simply put, it was the first time I had ever knew a game was over before it started… in warm ups, the swagger and confidence that these guys displayed was unlike anything you have ever seen, and their lay-up lines evoked fear and terror into their opponents.

At that time and for the next year, they were the most hated and loved team, not just in college basketball, but probably in all of sports. This was back when college teams -- whether as villains, counter-culture heroes or American darlings -- still held cultural cache.  After UNLV, you had Duke as the polarizing prep-boy program and, of course, Michigan's Fab Five.

Hip-hop had truly arrived as a cultural movement by 1990, and UNLV was the first team, in any sport, to truly embody the hip-hop ethos.

They were the only team rocking all black kicks (which the Fab Five copied and added black socks later). Larry Johnson had gold fronts and rocked the "part up the middle," while Anderson Hunt had the high-top fade. And Greg Anthony would run around claiming he was a hard core republican (which was all part of the show). They were the ones that started the decade long trend of team huddles in between free throws. LJ, Moses Scurry and Greg Butler were the guys who coined the phases like “You are to damn little” or “get that shit outta here” after rebounds and blocked shots.

If you weren't watching music videos on The Box or listening to Public Enemy, N.W.A. or the Geto Boys, then UNLV was your window into this growing cultural movement. They even preceded Hollywood films like "New Jack City" and "Boyz N the Hood."

That just doesn't exist in college basketball anymore. Grown men from New York City aren't walking around wearing Kentucky T-shirts these days the way grown men from Seattle walked around wearing Runnin' Rebel shirts in the early '90s.

Those days are gone and you know what? I really miss them.

The architect behind all this delicious madness was Jerry Tarkanian, who—regardless of what you think of him—deserves props for molding a band of recruits from across the country into one of sport’s greatest shows. Forget Wayne Newton or Ol’ Blue Eyes. When the Rebels dazzled the Thomas & Mack Center with their five-man medley, it was the toughest ticket in Vegas. This UNLV squad was the original bling-bling team. It showed us winning needn’t be conservative, that it could be fast and furious, sizzling and soulful. And it all began with the man they called Tark.

Depending on who you ask, Tark “the Shark“ is either Tony Soprano, Father Flannigan, or a combination of the two.

Known as the king of second chances, he simply never turned away a hard-luck case—at least, not one with All-American talent. Still, he probably never received enough credit for winning a startling 83 percent of his games while at Vegas. While Bobby “Bail Bondsman” Bowden is a mythic figure and Bobby Knight’s supporters idolize the General like an actual war hero, the man with sleepy eyes never received his full coaching due.

You might argue that the backup waterboy could have coached three future NBA top-12 picks (Larry Johnson, Stacey Augmon and Greg Anthony) to a ring in ’90.

Two quick counterpoints.

1)  Have you heard of Michigan’s Fab Five? No ring there.

2)  Such a comment underestimates Tark’s ability to trust his players and delegate power.

With his familiar moist towel clamped between his teeth, he engineered the Runnin’ Rebs’ 35-5 blitzkrieg through college hoops.

The way he coached, made them who they were. He brought out the best in everybody and everybody who loved his team, loved him…they were all a team, like brothers.

Some teams are tight. Some are close. But UNLV enjoyed a bond that never frayed. Every guy ever interviewed for a story makes a family reference when discussing those early 90’s squads. One big fraternity. Brothers. “The fellas”

Greg Anthony was the spokesperson, Larry Johnson outworked everybody and Stacey Augmon was as tough as nails.

Everyone knew their roles…Four guys can’t drop a triple-double every night.  UNLV perfected the art of suppressing ego and avoiding jealousy.

They had the type of players who understood the value of being unselfish and the value of winning, they were all pulling for each other and everyone knew it. It was a unique thing to see…where everyone was on the same page as far as trying to get a chip, trying not to be selfish, trying to make the right play at all times.

Where did the stress-free environment originate? Was it luck? Did the five starters—as well as sixth-man specialist Moses Scurry, who was imported from St. John’s, just happen to mesh?

It was instilled by the coaches and everyone knew it (even the public).  I remember reading about their games being easier than the practices they had to go to everyday.

While its exterior sparkled with Vegas hype, the team’s interior was comprised of fierce loyalty, a Puritan work ethic, and a coaching staff that knew how to extract the most production from each individual.

In 1990 over a 34-game span, they won by an average, AN AVERAGE, of 27 points per game.

They walked through teams as if they were high school teams…teams in the Big West Conference, teams in the bigger conferences, either way you looked at it, they were the real deal.

(The only other team that comes to mind, given them being in a small conference but, still winning easily against the bigger schools is the 2008 Memphis Tigers. If D-Rose and boys would have finished the job that year, they might have had the torched passed on to them.)

The Duke Blue Devils, the team most people love to hate (me included), had to see UNLV in the tournament twice. Even as much as I hate Duke, I’ve never accused them of being scared of anybody…except for that UNLV team. UNLV destroyed them in the title game in 1990.  They won the TITLE game by 30 (103-73).  Don’t get it confused…that Duke team was no joke either, they actually had three future NBA All-Stars on their team.

For me, this was my favorite team of all time, and still comes up regularly in conversations with my friends.  This team allows us to talk about great players, great stories, and allows us to reminisce and take trips down memory lane.






Out...Cundiff