Long Beach State coach went from fired to NCAA Tournament. And yes, it’s surreal

Nine days after telling his Long Beach State player he’d been fired and then making an absurdity of the administration’s decision by coaxing the team to the Big West Tournament championship and an NCAA Tournament berth, Dan Monson could have gone any number of ways when he entered the interview room at the Delta Center on Wednesday.

He could have been defiant or arrogant or sullen. He might have been angry. Or maybe just avoided the obvious dynamics altogether and said something trite like we just want to focus on second-seeded Arizona, his 15th-seeded team’s opponent in the West Region opener on Thursday.

Instead, he embraced this peculiar reality. So much so that he seemed to usher us all into an internal monologue that was equal parts fascinating, moving and thought-provoking.

“I don’t have to answer anything I don’t want to because I’m working for free today,” he said, smiling, as he sat down.

Stream of consciousness thus engaged, he thought about a “Seinfeld” episode when George Costanza was trying to get fired but getting nowhere and still going to work each day.

(He may have been melding together a couple episodes, perhaps “The Millenium” and “The Revenge” and others …. but you get the idea.)

“That’s me,” Monson added. “I’m a ‘Seinfeld’ episode going on right now in real life.”

As if the plot weren’t compelling and poignant enough, Monson is lined up against protege Tommy Lloyd of Arizona, whom Monson hired at Gonzaga before leaving for Minnesota, and is at the same site with Gonzaga — assigned here for its Midwest Region game against McNeese State.

Their presence underscores the fact that Monson launched Gonzaga basketball into the limelight with an Elite Eight run in 1999.

“The Zagfather, the Dogfather, I’ve got to have a name for that; that’s my claim to fame,” he said. “I can’t be (only) known as the only guy to get fired and work in an NCAA Tournament for free. That’s got to be my legacy, is starting that. I’m super proud of it.”

As such …

“Tommy owes me,” Monson said, playfully. “That’s the bottom line, OK?”

With a laugh, he added that his successor and current Gonzaga coach Mark Few called about Lloyd after Monson left and said, “‘What is his name again, and what did you promise him?’”

(Or as Few on Wednesday remembered putting it in inadvertently Seinfeld-ian terms: “What the heck’s the deal with this guy?” And it was downright Kramer-esque to picture Lloyd “just kind of hanging around,” without necessarily even having a job.)

“I just laugh at that now, because Tommy is Tommy, where he is, one of the best coaches in America,” Monson said. “Making me enough money to buy me pizza last night.”

In fact, in a bit of a departure from traditional pre-competition lines even among the best of friends, the Monson, Lloyd and Few families all ate together Tuesday night.

When Monson arrived late, he told Lloyd it was because they were trying to install the intricate offense of Princeton — which as a 15-seed beat second-seeded Arizona last year.

“He told me that 50 times last night,” Lloyd said.

Asked his reaction, Lloyd said, “I told him it would be great to see some semblance of offense.”

After the laughs stopped, though, Lloyd added, “I think he knows this opportunity he has. I have no doubt that his team’s going to come out ready to play with a spirited effort tomorrow.”

You could certainly surmise that given what’s happened since Monson was fired after the Beach — yep, that’s Long Beach State’s nickname — lost its last five regular-season games to fall to 18-14 in Monson’s 17th season there (with just one previous NCAA Tournament appearance).

According to the Los Angeles Times, Monson went to see athletic director Bobby Smitheran to tell him he would resign if the team didn’t fare well in the Big West Tournament … only to learn that Smitheran already had made smithereens of him.

Whoops.

Now Long Beach State is seeking its first NCAA Tournament win since 1973 under Jerry Tarkanian.

That improbable development would add to the story, to be sure, but the essence of the tale already is in place.

Including what Lloyd called Monson’s “incredible grace” and what Few referred to as great class that he considered in contrast to the way Long Beach State has gone about it.

“Hey, I think it’s a story worthy of a Disney show or something the way it’s playing out,” said Few, who noted Monson is “the sole reason why I got into this profession” and added, “I’m hoping its a lesson for all those athletic directors out there to maybe take pause once in a while.”

In this case, Monson, 62, didn’t know what to expect when he went to tell the players that day.

But it became the start of a this-is-your-life sequence that few get to realize.

“You don’t really know how they’re taking it until they tell you they love you or they show you,” Monson said. “Those guys showed me they loved me that day. I’ll never forget it. That’s all you need.”

Then it became something more altogether through fits and starts getting ready for the Big West tourney. Distressed players asked for some time alone as they mulled the approach to the week, then 30 minutes or so later texted that they were ready to watch some film.

Even then, Monson could hear players sniffling and struggling to get their emotions together.

So he injected some levity into the situation.

“‘Just look at this first defensive clip, guys. We close out short here. The guy is wide open; we don’t get a contest,’” he remembered saying.

Then the punchline:

“There are the kind of plays that get a coach fired.”

The whole room broke up, as he recalled, making for a fresh start. But the week still was uneven with players in tears at times in the locker room before practices.

When they got off the bus for a practice in Las Vegas, though, Monson greeted each with the simple words “be different today.”

Whatever the reason, he reckoned they had their best practice of the year just before rattling off three wins in three days, culminating in a 74-70 title-game victory over UC Davis.

“I know it’s a business, and they have to make business decisions, but to do it before the tournament, it hurt,” said Long Beach guard Jadon Jones. “It felt like we had let him down. They had completely given up on us. They didn’t believe we were even going to compete. We knew that we had to prove them wrong.”

For a coach who taught them you have to play for each other and not just with each other.

And, suddenly, that meant something more than ever.

“I think that’s a really powerful statement. It’s really a big difference,” Jones said. “When you’re playing … for someone else, you’re really willing to do whatever. You don’t want to let anyone down. You never want to be a disappointment to anyone. That’s kind of the mental space we were at.

“We were going to play for the betterment of the team, for Coach. We wanted to make sure he was going to enjoy his last season and go out on a special note.”

That’s already been enshrined with or without a victory Thursday that Monson lightheartedly seemed to assure when he finished his news conference by telling the media, “I’ll see you guys on Friday. Tell Tommy I said that.”

The more sure point, though, is that a certain sort of affirmation came out of this for Monson that he may not have known otherwise.

While it’s been “surreal” or even “Twilight Zone” material, as he acknowledged to one question, it’s also been what he called “awesome.”

From a deeper connection with his players to having his whole family, including his 90-year-old parents, with him at the Big West Tournament, to hundreds of congratulatory text messages in the wake of the win, this went from a disillusioning moment to vestiges of, “It’s A Wonderful Life.”

“I think that’s 100 percent true,” Monson said. “I’m not thanking them for firing me by any means, (but) I think life is life. Some of it is good, some of it is bad. How you pivot through it defines who you are.

“I’m hoping that people look at me and say, ‘Hey, he had a great job. What are we feeling sorry for him for? He had 17 years driving that car. It was a great ride.’”

The car was leased, he added, and they wanted the keys back.

Soooo ….

“It’s not insured this week, but I still get to drive it. I’m going to try to keep it on the road, the road to the Final Four.”

Wherever it goes, though, Monson already has stepped back and realized he’s got it good.

Never mind that he doesn’t know what’s next.

That’s an afterthought just now.

“Staying in the moment,” he said, “has been pretty good to us this week.”