For years, he seemed like the classic "Get Offa My Lawn!" guy. Bo Ryan came from a rough-edged Philly suburb where talk was cheap and wise-guy talk was stupid. Suffer fools gladly? He didn't suffer them at all. Especially if they were sports writers.

He is 67 now, and that has changed. The perception, that is. Ryan has always been Ryan. Who you see is who you get: An old-school coach who doesn't feel the need to perform in public. "There's no BS in his routine," UC head basketball coach Mick Cronin said Sunday.

"I know how I'm perceived by some people. I'm actually a pretty funny guy," said Ryan last week.

Bo's Wisconsin teams have always been like Bo – tough and smart and well-schooled – and now his best team is a win away from a championship, Bo's way.

Let the talkers talk. There's nothing wrong with working a room the way John Calipari does. Nor is there fault in recruiting a busload of all-stars to play for you. Bo just does things differently. To Fans Of a Certain Age, Bo's as cool as a pair of canvas Chuck Taylors.

"At Wisconsin, you cannot take classes, paper classes, and these other type of classes. You have to be in the classroom for the majority of your major," Ryan said over the weekend.

Some of us liked that.

Bo comes from a time, a prehistoric epoch really, when the really good players could actually make half their jumpshots. When socializing meant looking at a human, not a cell phone, and when players worked to please their coach, not vice versa.

Someone asked Bo how clutch performers become clutch.

"In the '60s growing up, you're on the playground, you probably play 10 to 15 games in a couple-hour period, where you play to a number. First team to 10, first team to 20, got to win by two. Now, with all the organized basketball games and practices and things that are going on, there's not as many pickup games played.

"I can remember being on the playground, because you had to win by two, having some games where there were 10 clutch jumpers that were made, or 10 buckets that extended the game or gave you the win. So I think that's where guys – when they used to play a lot on the playgrounds – there was a lot of that clutch. Now I think guys aren't in as many clutch situations."

That's so right. To 10, win by two? Win, or wait an hour to play again? You'd better be clutch. Now? Pack up the van, all-stars. We're headed to the AAU tournament.

Came this question:

"Bo, why have you been able to endure?"

"Medication," said Bo. "I mean meditation, excuse me. No, golf is a hobby. That's about it. We got a place in PGA West. What else do you do at PGA West?"

At 67, Bo doesn't understand the raging need for self gratification, from coaches and players alike. Not that he ever understood that aspect of the game: Bo graduated from college, went into the Army, came out and started coaching high school basketball. Then he coached small-college ball. Two of his teams at Wisconsin-Platteville went undefeated.

He was 52 by the time he arrived at Wisconsin, in 2001. Bo knows about paying dues. Someone wondered what he thought about players changing schools.

"So many young people now want to transfer when they see (they) might be buried behind two guys at (their) position. We've had a few guys transfer in 14 years, but not very many. And this group is doing what it's doing right now because they've stuck to what they believe in," he said.

The Badgers "build a team with seniors, juniors, sophomores and freshmen. It works for us."

Bo talked about "the adulation." He recalled asking one of his players, the sharpshooter Sam Dekker, why Dekker was bringing his cell phone to a news conference. Dekker said that was just what he did, all the time. Bo just shrugged and found a high place for his eyes to roll.

"OK," said Bo. "Bring your cell phone. That's good. But these guys are getting that (adulation) already. Aunt Alice, Uncle Harry, whatever. Other friends."

Bo doesn't quite understand it, but he rolls with it. He doesn't get a lot of great high school players to play at Wisconsin. He gets players who want to play for him, though, who want to know what he knows.

"Today's coaches look for ways to justify how hard we work," Cronin said. The UC coach recalled meeting Ryan five years ago, when the Bearcats and Badgers shared a hotel on Maui, during the Maui Invitational:

"I was locked in my room, watching film. Every time I came down from the room, he was sitting with my father in the restaurant." The stories Bo and Hep, now 73, could have told. "Bo's pretty secure with who he is," Mick said.

Bo's Badgers play Duke for the national title Monday night. If they win, Bo will be happy. But he won't change. Old schools don't all go out of fashion.