The letter came as a total shock to Bill Evans. He is something of a legend in the state of
Kentucky, but it had been more than 50 years since he played basketball at the University
of Kentucky. The Bonita Springs resident freely admits this missive was a stunner,
bringing back a flood of old memories.
“Dear Mr. Evans,” it began. “LETTER
Billy Evans, as he was known at Kentucky while he was playing for legendary coach
Adolph Rupp, was captain of the team in his senior year of 1954-55. He was honored to
have his jersey number, 42, retired by the Wildcats. He was drafted by the NBA
Rochester Royals, though he didn’t play as a professional. And, to culminate a stellar
basketball career, he was chosen to participate on the U.S. team at the 1956 Olympics,
playing alongside Boston Celtic greats Bill Russell and K.C. Jones.
That doesn’t mean, however, that it was the culmination of his sports career. Today, the
76-year-old Evans is “totally tennis,” showing up at the Pelican Landing courts 4-5 days
a week. He’s been playing since he was “5 or 6” years old, was twice Kentucky state
champion in high school at Berea, a letterman in the sport for the Wildcats, and is a
member of the Kentucky Tennis Hall of Fame. And there’s no question that his tennis
background established his quickness, which was evident during a basketball career that
culminated in Melbourne, Australia, and the Olympics.
Evans was born in little Berea, Ky., the son of a Berea College employee who was
himself something of a noted tennis player. Little Billy played all sports as a child, but
focused on tennis because of the influence of dad Evans – who was the coach of the
Berea College tennis team. The two played nearly every day, weather permitting, and by
the time he was in high school, Billy was an all-stater and state champion in his junior
and senior years.
But even though basketball is way, way back in his archive of memories, it is
undoubtedly where he made his biggest impact nationally – and internationally. He began
his career playing on a high school team coached by a man who never played basketball.
The coach would read from a coaching manual and relay the instructions to the players.
Not surprisingly, Berea won but two games in Evans’ sophomore year – beating the same
team twice. But by the time his senior season rolled around, his Berea team made the
playoffs for the state championship before losing to the eventual state champions.
Bill received only two scholarship offers, a basketball offer from Kentucky and a tennis
scholarship from Furman University. He chose Kentucky, and little did he know that he
was about to go on a wild ride with the Wildcats.
One of 16 freshmen who arrived at Kentucky – there was no limit on scholarships then Evans was practically anonymous when placed alongside his more illustrious classmates.
“We had bios of everyone in the program,” he says. “Everyone had about four inches of
statistics. I had only one line – ‘Billy Evans, Berea, state high school tennis champion.’
That’s all it said.”
Evans had played center at Berea, despite being only 6-1 and 165 pounds, but he quickly
got a sobering message at Kentucky. “There about six or seven people who were 7-feet or
taller,” he said. “So I knew I had better learn to play guard if I wanted to stay around very
long.”
By the time he left, only two of the 16 remained – and Evans was one. He was still only
6-1, but had put on 20 additional pounds. Kentucky, which was the finest team in the
nation during the 10-year period of 1945 to 1955, endured a point-shaving scandal which
began a couple of years before Evans’ freshman year, but which culminated in the team
being forced to sit out the ’52-‘53 season. The next year, in ’53-54, that same Kentucky
outfit went undefeated at 25-0.
Every starter on the undefeated team – and Evans was one, along with future NBA
players Cliff Hagan, Frank Ramsey and Lou Tsioropoulis – had played center in high
school. And, interestingly, all were 6-feet-5 or less.
And then, there was Rupp, Kentucky’s famed basketball coach of 41 years. Was he
tough, mean, a cantankerous SOB? One incident said it all, Bill remembers.
Kentucky was No. 2 in the country and about to play the nation’s top-ranked team, St.
John’s. And the Wildcats thoroughly dominated St. John’s, winning 81-40. The score was
81-39 the 15 seconds remaining, but Evans committed a foul and St. John’s made a free
throw as the game ended.
The Wildcats, understandable thrilled at beating the top-ranked team by such a margin,
were celebrating in the locker room when suddenly BANG! – the door opened.
“Unbelievable!” said Bill. “I looked around, and Adolph was headed right for me. Veins
were sticking out in his neck, his face was red, he was plenty upset.
“He grabbed me by the uniform, went up to the blackboard, and he put a big 4-0 minus
39 with the chalk, and put a line under it. He said, ‘Blankety-blank, Evans, what’s the
difference!?’
“I just looked at him! ‘What?’ Then he put a 1, followed by six zeroes. ‘That’s a million.
I didn’t want them to get out of the 30s.’”
That was in 1952. He had plenty of Adolph Rupp stories to tell by the time he left
Kentucky. Since he had taken Air Force ROTC in college, he was obligated to serve a
three-year commitment. He played for the all-Air Force team, made the all-military team,
and eventually was selected to the ’56 Olympic squad.
How good was this outfit? Think of the Red Sox playing a Class B team. They merely
shredded the opposing countries by an average of 53.5 points a game. The U.S. opened
competition by humbling Japan by 58 points. Thailand fell by a whopping 72 points, the
Philippines by 68. In the finals, the U.S. beat Russia by 89-55.
“We were just that good,” said Evans. “That wasn’t any pressure on us, really. None of
our players played more than about 25 minutes a game. We just played hard, that’s really
all there was to it.”
Three years later, Evans was a member of the outstanding amateur team representing
Phillips 66 Oil. The big international event in 1959 was the Pan American games, and
Evans again was chosen to represent the United States. This time he was a teammate of
Jerry West and Oscar Robertson, both former NBA greats. And the results were much the
same – a U.S. gold medal.
“But really, the reality is that 50 years ago – it’s a much different game. It’s just such a
different game,” said Evans. “At Kentucky, we had like seven guys who had played
together three, four years. You don’t find that today. Now, kids go to college solely to
prepare for the pros, and they leave after a couple of years. At Kentucky, three of us
played together for five years - we had to skip one year on probation.”
It was while he was trying out for the Pan American Games that cold reality finally struck
Evans. “Those guys who were 6-5, 6-6, 6-7 could do everything I could do –and I was
only 6-1,” Bill said. “I became convinced that I was not going to be a super pro, I’ll tell
you that! That ended any dreams I might have had of taking my career to the next level
ended.”
So he began a business career, working first for Phillips, then rising all the way to a
senior vice-president at Kentucky Fried Chicken. He retired in 1995 (??), but he never
has retired completely from sports. He always can be found on the tennis courts, be it
Bonita Springs or at his summer home in Louisville.
He has lived a life that accentuated the positives – athletic superiority in basketball and
tennis, a solid business career, a berth in the Kentucky Tennis Hall of Fame. But one
thing he never did learn was how to boast of all his accomplishments.
And, leave it to wife Nancy to put his feet solidly on terra firma. Bill’s prize possession, a
team picture of the ’56 Olympians, occupied a place of honor in his summer residence of
Louisville. But the picture was trumped in the living room by something else.
“We’re fishing in Alaska in ’97 at a KFC convention,” says Evans, “and Nancy caught a
60-pound king salmon. So I walk into the living room in Louisville a little later, and
there’s the picture of Nancy and her salmon in the spot where my Olympic picture was!
All of a sudden my Olympic picture is down in the basement. Nancy’s fish is front-andcenter!”
True, a slightly embarrassed Nancy says. But then, Bill never has been overly concerned
about prized personal possessions.
“I had known him for two years before I ever knew he played basketball,” Nancy said.
“That’s just the way he is. There’s not a conceited bone in his body.”