During the Memorial Day weekend, Dave Pietramala and the Johns Hopkins lacrosse team had a shot at winning yet another national championship. But about 35 miles south of Hopkins’ campus, Gary Williams and the Maryland Terrapins watched recruit Tyree Evans rescind on his commitment when it became apparent he didn’t have a shot of gaining admission.

And so the space between two coaches who traveled similar paths to restore order and instill a renewed sense of pride at their respective alma maters widens.

As Williams enters his 19th season at Maryland — a program he rescued from a cocaine-induced hangover and Bob Wade’s buffoonery — his legacy begins to erode from lackluster recruiting, poor play and a perceived malaise.

In the early years, he was at his sweat-through-a-tweed-sport-coat-best when he had the Ralph Friegden-sized task of proving Maryland was again ready for prime time.

This story continues below
Advertisement

And it wasn’t long ago Williams was the toast of the town, championed for his tireless, passionate and often indignant us-against-the-world approach he used in making opposing college basketball programs Fear the Turtle.

His rebuilding effort hit stride in 1994 when the Terrapins began a streak of 11 consecutive trips to the big dance that culminated with consecutive Final Four appearances and the school’s first national championship in 2002.

But since the 2003 season, Maryland has been little more than a blip on the national radar, only once finishing higher than fifth in the ACC regular season and spending three out of the last four postseasons dancing with scrubs in the NIT.

In the “what have you done for me lately?” world of major Division I athletics, Williams’ answer is shorter than his bench: nothing.

If you are having trouble recalling Williams, circa 1989-2003, take a look at Pietramala, because he’s doing what Williams used to do.

Considered the fiercest defender in Hopkins history, “Petro” minored in bloodletting during his career at Hopkins. Since taking over the program in 2001 all he’s done is guide the Jays to eight straight NCAA Tournaments, six Final Fours, two national titles and produce more All-Americans than McDonald’s.

And while a consolation trophy from this year’s finals brings no joy to Jaysville, Homewood inhabitants haven’t shared this much excitement since the vaccine for smallpox was discovered.

Much like Williams in his prime, Pietramala is a fan favorite and a heat-seeking missile on the sidelines — iconic and irritable all at once. He wears his heart on his sleeve and wouldn’t mind ripping out the heart of a referee from time to time.

So why is it — when both coaches share similar demeanors, work at world-class institutions and have oil fields of local high school talent in their backyards — Williams’ luster is wearing off while Pietramala continues polishing his legacy?

Because one coach still has a fire, and one is just blowing smoke.

When you watch Williams these days, you get the sense that he would just as soon be sipping a boat drink on South Beach instead of spitting barbs in the pregame huddle. And who could blame him? Coaching in the Atlantic Coast Conference isn’t exactly the most relaxing way for a 63-year-old to wind down.

But this genesis of disconnect between fans and head coach has Maryland’s big-money boosters on edge, its diehard faithful in denial and Debbie Yow, the school’s athletics director, spinning things faster than Curly Neal.

The turmoil has shifted discussions from where to hang another championship banner in the Comcast Center to message-board grumblings about Williams hanging up the whistle.

Some argue Williams is a victim of his own success. I disagree. You don’t raise the bar only to let it crash on your head and then complain when you have a knot.

Winning should beget winning — not lesser recruits, postseason failures and he-said-she-said spats with Yow.

Pietramala, now nine years into his run at Hopkins, is still coaching like he has something to prove. He still is out recruiting and getting kids to believe Hopkins is the Park Avenue penthouse of college lacrosse and wearing a Jays jersey is a badge of honor.

So how can Pietramala seem to have it all going in the right direction, while something is terribly wrong in Garyland?

Tony Giro is a lifelong Baltimore sports fan who blogs on examiner.com for fans. If you subscribe — it’s free — you’ll be e-mailed each time Tony posts a column. He can be reached at timeout@baltimoreexaminer.com.