纽约-在纽约市篮球的悠久历史中，没有人像卢·卡内塞卡那样穿着它。
这位容易激动的圣约翰教练于周六去世，享年99岁，距离他的100岁生日只有几周时间。他的奇装异服成为了他的球队在1985年激动人心的四强赛中的标志。
该大学表示，一名家庭成员通知说，卡内塞卡在医院去世，身边都是亲人。圣约翰说名人堂教练“以他的机智和热情赢得了几代纽约人的喜爱。”
卡内塞卡在他那个时代是一个珍贵的城市体育人物，在一个对球员、教练、高管和老板缺乏耐心的熙熙攘攘的小镇上，他对“小卢瓦”的感情从未动摇过。
他在两个阶段执教圣约翰大学24个赛季——每年都参加季后赛——并成为一所大学的形象代言人，该大学在皇后区的校园竞技场最终将以他的名字命名。他的雕像在2021-22赛季前揭幕。在学校的一次问答会上，当被问及如何描述圣约翰学院时，卡内塞卡说:“家。”
在这里，他执教圣约翰队18个赛季，至少20次获胜，并参加了18次NCAA锦标赛。在这里，他以526胜200负的战绩结束了1985年和1986年的30胜赛季。圣约翰也是在这里成为大东方联盟的创始成员和成功的支柱。
在1979年开始的联赛中，他三次获得年度最佳教练，并迅速成为全国最佳教练之一。在大东时代早期，他的明星球员有克里斯·穆林、马克·杰克逊和沃尔特·贝里。
卡内塞卡在1989年执教圣约翰大学获得了第五个NIT冠军，尽管那时的锦标赛已经远远落后于NCAAs。他在1992年进入篮球名人堂，那一年他退役了。
“我从来没有得分，”他在入职时说，放弃了一件毛衣，换上了一套整洁的西装。“球员们做了一切。没有玩家，就不可能有游戏。”
他是一名老派教练，以基本面为基础。在整个过程中，卡内塞卡在场边是一个旋转的，充满活力的存在，手臂挥舞，腿踢，衬衫下摆飞舞，身高5英尺6英寸的他因投篮不中或痛苦的判罚而愤怒地蜷缩着。但是他的滑稽动作从来没有超过扔椅子的愤怒。
卡内塞卡完全被他的球员所吸引，他骨子里热爱一项运动，一生都在校园、破旧的体育馆和一流的竞技场中度过。他喜欢运动鞋碰到清漆地板时的“汗味”和“橡胶燃烧的感觉”。
他仍然是这项运动中的完美绅士，这项运动充斥着过度的自负、激烈的招聘战和对下一份合同的不懈追求。前大东方专员迈克·特兰西(Mike Tranghese)曾称他为“我们的灵魂和良心”以及“游戏中的巨人之一”。
卡内塞卡带领圣约翰队在1983年和1986年获得大东部锦标赛冠军。他的球队在1979年和1991年进入了NCAA锦标赛的精英八强，并在70多周的时间里排名前10美联社前25名。麦迪逊广场花园的椽子上悬挂着一条横幅，表示他在圣约翰赢了526次。
他执教过40多名NBA选秀球员，马林、杰克逊和马里克·西里都在第一轮被选中的11人中。
尽管如此，卡内塞卡从未让自己太出名。他一直认为，一次惨痛的失败不应该成为一杯基安蒂酒通心粉配肉酱的绊脚石。他在世界各地开设诊所，结交朋友，每到一处都敬酒。他在那里，用一种亲切的话语和他沙哑的声音说着俏皮话。他的家谱可能已经回到了托斯卡纳，但他可以用最好的罗宋汤带漫画来支撑自己。
“我不知道教练中是否还有人像他一样，”康涅狄格大学的长期教练吉姆·卡尔霍恩曾经告诉哈特福德报。“即使人们讨厌大东方，也没人讨厌卢瓦。如果你喜欢篮球，你就喜欢Looie。如果你喜欢孩子，你就喜欢洛伊。”
路易吉·p·卡内塞卡生于1925年1月5日，是意大利移民的儿子。他在曼哈顿东哈莱姆区长大，住在他父亲开的杂货店和熟食店的楼上。他重视自己的传统，支持托尼·拉泽里和乔·迪马吉奥等纽约扬基队队员。
第二次世界大战期间，在海岸警卫队服役一段时间后，他成为了自己高中的教练——现在是长期的篮球权力大主教莫洛伊。1958年，他在他的母校圣约翰大学找到了一份助理的工作，他曾在一个球队打棒球，并进入了1949年的大学世界系列赛，但不是大学篮球队。
他在乔·拉普奇克手下工作了八个赛季，这位名人堂教练教给他的谦逊和努力工作的经验持续了他一生。卡内塞卡后来把他从拉普奇克那里得到的一些建议告诉了穆林:“今天是孔雀，明天是鸡毛掸子。”
“当蔻驰·拉普奇克清嗓子时，我学到了比在任何诊所学到的都多的东西，”卡内塞卡说。
他在1965年接替了拉普奇克，20胜赛季很快堆积起来。但五年后，卡内塞卡也未能幸免于职业选手的诱惑。他执教美国篮球协会纽约网队三年，里克·巴里是他的队员之一。
几年后，在1982-83赛季，他的圣约翰队以28-5结束比赛，卡内塞卡反思了大学教练的压力和他在ABA的时光。
“我输掉了50场职业教练比赛——那是压力，”他说。“我不想起床。我母亲可以执教这支球队。”
他的职业生涯并没有持续多久。卡内塞卡知道那不是他的自然栖息地。他说他只能做几次同样的中场演讲。他于1973年回到圣约翰学院。
尽管他的城市不再像过去几代人那样吸引人，但胜利的季节还是接踵而至。顶尖的高中球员迁移到南部和西部，来到拥有闪亮竞技场的校园，不需要纽约的商业吸引力来擦亮他们的品牌。
当被问及为什么不扩大他寻找球员的基础，并在他所在城市的五个区之外冒险时，Carnesecca知道他的邻居中有很多人才。他从口袋里拿出一张地铁代币——现在是过去几代人的遗物。
“这是我的招聘预算，”他说。
到1984-85赛季，卡内塞卡和圣约翰吸引了纽约，这是一种倒退，回到了像城市学院和NYU这样的学校不仅在纽约举足轻重，而且在整个大学篮球赛中也举足轻重的时代。红人队——他们的绰号多年后变成了红色风暴——在拥挤的麦迪逊广场花园打了一场艰苦、激烈的比赛，对手是吉姆·伯海姆执教的锡拉丘兹队、罗利·马西米诺执教的比利亚诺瓦队和约翰·汤姆逊执教的帕特里克·尤因率领的乔治敦队。
就在那时，毛衣的传奇故事开始了。这些年来，卡内塞卡会一次又一次地讲述他莫名其妙地进入时尚界的故事，就像一个经过修饰的家庭故事。
实际上，圣约翰大学正准备一月份去匹兹堡的客场之旅，而卡内塞卡身体不适。这栋建筑会很通风，他的妻子认为如果他穿件毛衣会很好。他找到了一个意大利篮球教练给他的。那是一件棕色套衫，上面有蓝绿色的宽条纹。它从未出现在GQ的书中。
“它很丑，不是吗?”卡内塞卡说。
没关系。马林在终场哨响时投中致胜一球，教练得到了他的幸运符。他坚持穿毛衣。一路走来，圣约翰大学结束了乔治敦大学的29连胜，并飙升至排名第一。
但在16-2的比赛中，乔治敦也有两次一边倒的失利——一次是在1985年2月，在热闹的麦迪逊广场花园，咧着嘴笑的汤普森穿着一件复制品出现在球场上，吸引了大量电视观众。
他的运气用尽了，Carnesecca最终把套衫收了起来。然后他穿着棕色雪花衫去参加NCAA锦标赛。圣约翰大学击败了南部，阿肯色州和肯塔基州，然后在西部地区决赛中击败了北卡罗莱纳州，将卡内塞卡送入了四强。
“当我去我的坟墓，”他说，“这我会记住。”
圣约翰大学将与两个东部同胞——乔治城大学和比利亚诺瓦大学——以及孟菲斯大学一起，前往肯塔基州的列克星敦。圣约翰队在半决赛中与乔治敦队相持不下，半场时以32比28落后。但是Hoyas以77-59赢得了比赛，将Mullin带到了8分。
“我认为我们尝试了一切，”卡内塞卡谈到乔治敦时表示，乔治敦后来在这项运动最伟大的冠军赛之一中被比利亚诺瓦击败。
退休后，卡内塞卡的继任者是圣约翰学院的一批教练，马林也在其中。即使到了90多岁，也就是离开教练岗位大约30年后，当红色风暴来临时，卡内塞卡还是会去花园。他的步态可能是试探性的，但他的思维和智慧是敏捷的，当巨型屏幕把他拍摄下来时，人群发出了欢呼声。教练在家。
“把球放下会很困难，但时候到了，”他在67岁退休时说。“有两个原因，真的。我仍然有一半的弹珠，我仍然有一种关于篮球的美妙味道。”
学校说，卡内塞卡留下了他73岁的妻子玛丽，女儿埃尼斯和女婿杰拉德，一个孙女，一个侄女和侄子以及大家庭。
Lou Carnesecca, Hall of Fame coach who led St. John's for 24 seasons, dies at 99
NEW YORK --In the long and storied history of New York City basketball, nobody wore it quite like Lou Carnesecca.
The excitable St. John’s coach whose outlandish sweaters became an emblem of his team’s rousing Final Four run in 1985, died at 99 on Saturday, just a few weeks shy of his 100th birthday.
The university said it was notified by a family member that Carnesecca died in a hospital, surrounded by loved ones. St. John's said the Hall of Fame coach “endeared himself to generations of New Yorkers with his wit and warmth.”
Carnesecca was a treasured city sports figure in his day, affection for “Little Looie” never wavering in a bustling town with scant patience for its players, coaches, executives and owners.
He coached St. John’s for 24 seasons over two stints — making a postseason tournament each year — and became the face of a university whose campus arena in Queens would eventually carry his name. A statue of him was unveiled before the 2021-22 season. When asked once in a question-and-answer session with the school to describe St. John’s, Carnesecca said: “home.”
It was home where he coached St. John’s to 18 seasons of at least 20 wins, and 18 NCAA Tournament appearances. It was home where he finished with a 526-200 record and had 30-win seasons in 1985 and 1986. And it was home where St. John’s became a charter member of the Big East Conference and a pillar of its success.
He was the coach of the year three times in a league that began play in 1979 and quickly asserted itself as one of the nation’s best. Among his star players during those early Big East years were Chris Mullin, Mark Jackson and Walter Berry.
Carnesecca coached St. John’s to its fifth NIT title in 1989, although by then the tournament had long been a poor cousin to the NCAAs. He entered the Basketball Hall of Fame in 1992, the year he retired.
“I never scored a basket,” he said at his induction, forgoing a sweater for a crisp suit. “The players did everything. Without players, you can’t have a game.”
He was an old-school coach, grounded in fundamentals. And through it all, Carnesecca was a swirling, kinetic presence on the sidelines, arms flailing, legs kicking, shirt tails flying, all 5-foot-6 of him curled in exasperation over a missed shot or agonizing call. But his antics never crossed the line into chair-throwing fury.
Carnesecca was simply consumed by his players, a love for a game in his marrow, a lifetime spent in schoolyards, beat-up gyms and big-time arenas. He loved the “smell of the sweat” and the “feel of rubber burning” when sneakers met a varnished floor.
He remained the consummate gentleman in a sport populated by outsized egos, fierce recruiting wars and a relentless pursuit of the next contract. Mike Tranghese, a former Big East commissioner, once called him “our soul and our conscience” and “one of the giants of the game.”
Carnesecca guided St. John's to Big East Tournament titles in 1983 and 1986. His teams reached the Elite Eight of the NCAA Tournament in 1979 and 1991, and spent more than 70 weeks ranked in the top 10 ofthe AP Top 25.A banner denoting his 526 wins at St. John's hangs from the rafters at Madison Square Garden.
He coached more than 40 NBA draft picks, with Mullin, Jackson and Malik Sealy among 11 who were selected in the first round.
Despite all that, Carnesecca never took himself too famously. He always believed a rough loss should never get in the way of a glass of Chianti and fettuccini with a Bolognese sauce. He held clinics all over the world, making friends, offering toasts wherever he went. He was there with a kind word as well as a wisecrack in his breathy, raspy voice. His family tree may have gone back to Tuscany, but he could hold his own with the best of Borscht Belt comics.
“I don’t know if there’s anybody else in coaching like him,” longtime UConn coach Jim Calhoun once told the Hartford Courant. “Even if people hate the Big East nobody hates Looie. If you like basketball, you like Looie. If you like kids, you like Looie.”
Luigi P. Carnesecca was born on Jan. 5, 1925, the son of Italian immigrants. He grew up in Manhattan, in East Harlem, living above the grocery store and deli owned by his father. He took his heritage seriously, rooting for such New York Yankees as Tony Lazzeri and Joe DiMaggio.
After a stretch in the Coast Guard during World War II, he became the coach at his high school — now the longtime basketball power Archbishop Molloy. In 1958, he took an assistant’s job at St. John’s, his alma mater, where he had played baseball on a team that reached the 1949 College World Series, but not varsity basketball.
He worked for eight seasons under Joe Lapchick, the lessons about humility and hard work from the Hall of Fame coach lasting a lifetime. Carnesecca would later pass along to Mullin some advice he got from Lapchick: “A peacock today, a feather duster tomorrow.”
“I learned more when Coach Lapchick cleared his throat than I could have at any clinic,” Carnesecca said.
He succeeded Lapchick in 1965, the 20-win seasons piling up quickly. But after five years, Carnesecca was not immune to the siren song of the pros. He coached the New York Nets of the American Basketball Association for three years, Rick Barry among his players.
Years later, during a 1982-83 season in which his St. John’s team would finish 28-5, Carnesecca reflected on the pressure of college coaching and his time in the ABA.
“I lost 50 games coaching professionally — that was pressure,” he said. “I didn’t feel like getting out of bed. My mother could coach this team.”
His stay in the pros didn’t last long. Carnesecca knew that was not his natural habitat. He said he could give the same halftime speech only so many times. He returned to St. John’s in 1973.
Winning seasons followed in quick succession even though his city was no longer the recruiting magnet of generations past. Top high school players migrated south and west to campuses with gleaming arenas and didn’t need the commercial pull of New York to burnish their brand.
When asked why he didn’t expand his base in his search of players and venture beyond his city’s five boroughs, Carnesecca knew he had plenty of talent in his neighborhood. He took a subway token — now a relic from bygone generations — out of his pocket.
“That’s my recruiting budget,” he said.
By the 1984-85 season, Carnesecca and St. John’s captivated New York, a throwback to a time when schools like City College and NYU mattered not only in the Big Apple but across college basketball. The Redmen — their nickname years later changed to the Red Storm — played tough, pulsating games at a packed Madison Square Garden against Syracuse teams coached by Jim Boeheim, Villanova teams coached by Rollie Massimino and Georgetown teams coached by John Thompson and led by Patrick Ewing.
It was then the saga of The Sweater took hold. Over the years, Carnesecca would recount his baffling entry into the world of fashion time and again like an embellished family tale.
Essentially, St. John’s was getting ready for a road trip to Pittsburgh in January and Carnesecca was under the weather. The building would be drafty, and his wife thought it would be good if he wore a sweater. He found one that had been given to him by an Italian basketball coach. It was a brown pullover with broad turquoise stripes. It never made it into the pages of GQ.
“It is ugly, isn’t it?” Carnesecca said.
No matter. Mullin hit a winning shot at the buzzer, and the coach had his lucky charm. He stuck with the sweater. Along the way, St. John’s ended Georgetown’s 29-game winning streak and soared to a No. 1 ranking.
But there were also two lopsided losses to Georgetown during the 16-2 run with the sweater — one when a grinning Thompson upstaged his popular rival by wearing a duplicate onto the court at a buzzing Madison Square Garden in what became known as “The Sweater Game,” which drew a massive television audience in February 1985.
His luck exhausted, Carnesecca eventually put the pullover away. He then went with a tan, snowflake number for the NCAA Tournament. St. John’s defeated Southern, Arkansas and Kentucky before a victory over North Carolina State in the West Regional final sent Carnesecca to the Final Four.
“When I’m going to my grave,” he said, “this I’ll remember.”
St. John’s headed to Lexington, Kentucky, along with two Big East compatriots — Georgetown and Villanova — and Memphis. St. John’s stuck with Georgetown in the semifinals, down 32-28 at halftime. But the Hoyas pulled away to win 77-59, holding Mullin to eight points.
“I think we tried everything,” Carnesecca said of Georgetown, which then got upset by Villanova in one of the sport’s great championship games.
After he retired, Carnesecca was succeeded by a parade of coaches at St. John’s, Mullin among them. Even into his 90s, some three decades out of coaching, Carnesecca would make his way to The Garden when the Red Storm were there. His gait may have been tentative but his mind and wit nimble, the crowd roaring when the jumbo screen panned in on him. The coach was at home.
“It’s going to be very difficult to put the ball down, but the time has come,” he said at his retirement when he was 67. “There are two reasons, really. I still have half of my marbles and I still have a wonderful taste in my mouth about basketball.”
The school said Carnesecca leaves behind his wife of 73 years, Mary, as well as daughter Enes and son-in-law Gerard, a granddaughter, and a niece and nephew in addition to extended family.
