Kyle Neptune’s job at Villanova isn’t really in jeopardy. Is it?
His team is 11-10, free-falling, and in danger of missing the NCAA Tournament again. He also hasn't even coached any of his own recruits yet. History says he'll get more time. Should he?
The boos at the start were soft enough that, later, Kyle Neptune could get away with saying that he hadn’t heard them.
Jim Bachman, the public-address announcer at the Finneran Pavilion, had introduced Villanova’s players and called out Neptune’s name, and yes, there were boos Tuesday night for the head coach of the Wildcats. They were for a four-game losing streak that would stretch to five after an 85-80 loss to Marquette. For Villanova’s sixth loss in seven games, its 11-10 record and the increasing possibility that it won’t qualify for the NCAA Tournament. For Kyle Neptune being Kyle Neptune and not being Jay Wright.
That reality is never far away for him. Hell, it’s in his face. It was there Tuesday night in the shirt that Timmy Rogers, a Villanova senior from Havertown, wore to the game: a white tee with the words FIRE NEPTUNE scrawled across the front in black marker. It was there in the form of Wright himself, sitting quietly five rows from the court, never reacting overtly to anything good or bad for the program that was his kingdom for 21 years.
It was there in the fans who streamed out of the arena with the Wildcats trailing in the closing seconds and who minutes before tipoff had broken the usually cheery atmosphere inside the Pavilion by letting Neptune know that mediocrity is not tolerated on the Main Line.
“I didn’t hear anything,” Neptune said after the game. “My job is to come out here and prepare these guys the best I possibly can, and I’m going to continue to do that.”
How much time is he going to get to continue? The question has more sides than a diamond, and none of the possible answers are all that simple or satisfying. Good luck finding a comparable scenario at Villanova, a historical precedent for this. Neptune is the program’s first head coach in the name-image-likeness era of the NCAA, and he is succeeding a legend, and those factors apply a measure of pressure that his predecessors didn’t have to bear.
It’s easy to point out that Villanova was just six games over .500 through Wright’s first three seasons there. Of course, he, too, had to plug his ears to the cries of cranky alumni and boosters who believed that the program’s first and at the time only national championship — in 1985, one of the most improbable national championships in college basketball history — ought to be the baseline for the Wildcats’ standard of excellence forevermore. But his situation and Neptune’s aren’t the same.
Wright followed and was being compared to Steve Lappas, who won an NIT championship, pulled in some of the program’s most talented players (Kerry Kittles, Alvin Williams, Tim Thomas), and had some outstanding regular seasons ... but over nine years won just two NCAA Tournament games. Wright swept up several terrific recruits early on (Randy Foye, Allan Ray, Curtis Sumpter, Jason Fraser) and their promise and potential bought him time. He then established a new and higher standard for the program, winning two national titles and reaching four Final Fours, making Big East championships and Sweet 16 berths feel like annual rites of late winter and early spring.
When it comes to Neptune’s future, though, one number in that preceding paragraph matters more than all the others: nine. The number of seasons that Lappas got. Wright eventually reached a status where there was no other possible ending; he was going to leave on his own terms or not at all. But Villanova gave Lappas nearly a decade to try to take the program to a higher level. Neptune hasn’t even had the chance to coach any of his own recruits yet. The notion that the university’s administrators and decision-makers would fire him after two seasons or three seasons or even four cuts against Villanova’s history and culture. They tend to be patient there.
Which is nothing but good for Neptune, because any judgment on him now would likely be harsh. The Wildcats are now 28-27 since he took over, and because he had just one year of head coaching experience — at Fordham, hardly a powerhouse — when he was hired, Neptune had more growing to do on the job than Wright or Lappas did. It’s fair to wonder if he was really ready for the role.
The boosters funding Villanova’s NIL collectives don’t want to hear that — in part because they don’t want the good times under Wright to go away, in part because the financial dynamic in college sports is different now. It’s more direct. These donors aren’t giving money toward the renovation of a practice facility, to some project or capital campaign. They’re giving money to pay and get and keep players. In this regard, they’re more like owners of fantasy sports franchises, and they want results, and if they don’t get them — if the players aren’t quite as good as advertised or if the coach is struggling to develop them — the urgency to change something will increase.
“Been a tough two years,” Rogers said when he was asked why he wanted Neptune fired. “Too talented to be losing.”
That’s the line that Villanova has to walk here. When is it too hasty to make a big move? When is it too late? Look at the Big East and the head coaches in charge of its 11 teams. Marquette’s Shaka Smart, St. John’s Rick Pitino, UConn’s Danny Hurley, Xavier’s Sean Miller, Butler’s Thad Matta, Seton Hall’s Shaheen Holloway, Creighton’s Greg McDermott, Georgetown’s Ed Cooley — eight coaches in the conference, right there, whose resumés are clearly superior to Neptune’s. That’s a hell of a hill for Neptune to climb. That’s a hell of a challenge before him.
“They have a good team,” Smart said. “They’ve played a heck of a schedule. There are some plays that have not bounced their way, but you’re talking about a team that can beat anyone in the country. They’ve demonstrated that.”
Time for them to demonstrate it again, just to turn the heat down, to give Kyle Neptune a chance to breathe a little, to enjoy some welcome silence. Not to save his job. Not yet.