Up until recently, I’ve always liked Rick Pitino.  Growing up in New York, I couldn’t help but root for him as an obscure assistant under Hubie Brown with the struggling New York Knicks.

He was animated, even back then as a Hubie protégé.

When he flourished as a head coach, he carried a swagger that seemed earned.  It was part Italian swagger, part basketball whiz kid.

Ric...

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