The most tireless recruiter in college basketball is tired of it all. Northwestern's Kevin O'Neill, once voted by his peers as the best recruiter in the business, has spent the last two decades schlepping around every state in the Union and provinces in Canada, too. He leads America in hotel pillow mints, bedstand pens and fine scented soap bars. He's been in more Hertzes than O.J., looked at more road maps than Rand or McNally, schmoozed with practically every one of the 15,000-plus high school players and coaches on his computer database.
O'Neill has always been good for a laugh, man-to-man defense and getting a signature on a letter of intent. That's why Lute Olson hired him as an Arizona assistant, why Marquette, Tennessee and Northwestern asked him to rebuild their programs, why he absolutely can't wait to move 18 inches-the width of a bench chair-from the head coach's seat back to an assistant's spot, preferably in the NBA. "I just want to sit down," he says. "For 14 years, I've been standing up. That's what head coaches do. Now I just want to sit down and let somebody else do the standing."
Recruiting is the only season that never ends. O'Neill, 43, knows that better than anyone. He has spent the better part of his adult life chasing teenagers who have more crossover moves than whiskers. They wear their And 1 shorts way down on their butts and tug at a pair of Tommy boxers underneath. The good ones own the latest $150 Jordans, play for the best AAU teams and circle themselves with adoring entourages. Too many of them are arrogant, cynical or naive enough to think the attention is a birthright. It is a mating ritual of the absurd, and few have been more successful at it than O'Neill.
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