Tom Izzo has an edge over most MSU professors - students believe in what he says, does and thinks.
Perhaps more than he'd like to admit, the word of Izzo is the gospel in East Lansing, passed down to him from the heavens by Basketball Jesus to his perch atop Breslin Center. Coach Izzo could amble into his postgame news conference, smile for the camera and then proceed to unravel the John F. Kennedy assassination and give directions to Jimmy Hoffa's body without batting an eye.
And we'd believe in him.
He wouldn't want us to, because Izzo knows no coach is above the game. He knows the proof is on the hardwood, not on the postgame sound bite or pregame radio show. He knows sports media is the devil in a red cocktail dress - eager to seduce then shun just as quickly when the Spartans lose by two in Ann Arbor.
But coach Izzo is a smart man. He sees past all that, keeps his tenacity for his players - not the cameras - and kicks butt when he has to, which is often. He's 5 feet, 8 inches of raspy rawness on the practice court. He stomps, screams and pleads like a manic-depressive Oktoberfest dancer. He has to crane his neck to look his players in the eye, but when they look down at him, there's not a shred of skepticism around.
The Spartans again are 11-8, but MSU fans worth their salt know Izzo is not to blame. In the realm of how hard Izzo works to give East Lansing a winning team, 24-7 is considered a week off. But Izzo sells himself short when talking about one subject - himself.
That's when we need to stop believing in Izzo. His future at MSU will be determined by one man - Tom Izzo. When Izzo is ready to leave, that is when Izzo will leave. No sooner, no later.
It isn't often a college coach lasts 25 or 30 seasons at one school. But it's rare when a college coach lifts a program to national prominence, wins a national championship and becomes the hoops gospel within a decade.
You've got 200 wins behind you now, Coach. We don't expect 400. We believe in 400.
