* * *
It was on the campus of George Williams College in the early 70s that the seeds for the Penn State program were sown. There it was that Rose, as a freshman, met not only the game of volleyball, but also a face of volleyball in Jim Coleman.
For a teenager headed to college to be a basketball coach, George Williams was too much of a volleyball school to let that happen. Coleman, who was a professor of not only volleyball but also chemistry and physics, was a former Olympic volleyball coach. His office was filled with files and files of material on volleyball -- a haven for the knowledge-hungry Rose.
"He would just open up his files and let me sit in his office," Rose said. "And, in return, he didn't flunk me in every class I took from him."
It was in that office that Rose learned the basic coaching philosophies; it was from Coleman that Rose began to understand what it took to earn the respect of those around you.
"He was a role model and an inspiration to me," Rose said. "Because he was willing to share everything. There was no question that was too stupid, and I used to ask some incredibly stupid questions because I wasn't one of the great students of the world."
Having learned the game of volleyball, Rose joined the George Williams team his junior year, the year the squad won a NAIA national championship. But he is quick to admit that he didn't play, "nor should I have." And the following year, as captain, it was not his prowess as a player that he used to lead his team.
"I was valuable because I challenged the guys that were really good every day mentally," Rose said. "I could torment them, and I could rag on them."
Tormenting and ragging translated into coaching, Rose style -- first at George Williams, then as a defensive coach at Nebraska, and finally in Happy Valley.
* * *
In Lion Country, Tom Tait needed a coach.
After heading up the newly created Penn State women's volleyball program for three seasons, 1976-78, in conjunction with the men's program, Tait elected to coach only the men, thus needing someone to take over the women's team. Enter Russ Rose.
"It was obvious when Russ arrived that he was a take-charge type," Tait said. "Russ wanted to take the [women's] program over and run with it and that's what he did."
But where to run? There wasn't much to work with. There were just three in-state scholarships, forcing Rose to recruit one player for just $250 and another simply for the price of books. The equipment that was promised wasn't all there. And there were no assistant coaches to help.
"Trust me when I say that I was naïve to what one needs to start a women's volleyball program," Rose said. "But I came in and I knew volleyball and I got a great group of people that were willing to work very hard and we started to build a volleyball program."
These were the days when Rose was teaching 16 classes a semester, the days in which he was responsible for putting up his players' names on the scoreboard by himself, the days in which funding was extremely limited, so much that a tripling of the budget was inconsequential. Rose's salary was no exception.
"Back then I was eligible for the cheese program [a federal aid program]," he said. "I didn't know to ask for more salary, I just wanted to work hard. I thought it was the greatest thing in the world just to be a coach."
Rose went right to work in pushing the program in the direction it needed to go. Did he have a vision?
"I didn't have a vision," he said, seizing the opportunity to dish out one of his infamous one-liners. "I have bad vision, that's why I wear glasses."
So for Rose, it was one day at a time, one step at a time, one goal after another. He didn't worry about what he didn't have, he worked with what he did have. He maximized every resource to the fullest and fought for more. He infused his coaching philosophy into the program. And Penn State women's volleyball began to flourish.
The record for the 1979 season was 32-9. In 1981, the NCAA women's volleyball tournament was started, in which Penn State made its first showing. Joining the Atlantic 10 conference was next in 1983. After winning eight straight Atlantic 10 titles, the Nittany Lions joined the Big Ten in 1991. The national championship came in 1999. And so the story goes.
But to understand Rose is to understand that he won't take credit for success.
"How did I build it?" he questions back. "I didn't build it, the school built it. It was situation, and I happened to be in the right place at the right time."
* * *
It is not explicitly stated, but everyone in the Penn State women's volleyball family knows it to be true: hard work is the foundation for everything.
"It's not like we have these fancy boards written up [listing] our core values, but it's very understood," said Penn State women's volleyball assistant coach Mike Schall, who is in his 13th year coaching alongside Rose. "The root of his philosophy is hard work. We work hard. We expect the players to work hard. We expect everybody involved with the program to work hard."
Working hard around Rose comes easy though, simply because the man works himself just as hard as he works anybody else.
"He's such a driven individual," said his wife and former player, Lori Barberich Rose. "He never takes days off, and I get on him for that."
For Rose, the day begins at four in the morning, unless, of course, he wakes up earlier and is kept awake by thought. When he gets into the office, there are hours of film to watch, scouting reports to prepare, and a three hour practice in which he will be disappointed if the girls do not give it their best effort.
"When I was a freshman we did these suicides, running the length of the South Gym, which was four courts," said Leslie Peters Bleggi, who played from 1980-83. "I thought I had done really well because I had beaten everyone so I slowed up a bit at the end. He noticed, and he yelled at me for not giving my all."
These stresses from the season take their toll on Rose.
"I think I can certainly appreciate the dilemma that Coach Paterno is in when he says, 'I'm exhausted,' " Rose said. "Because these days, I'm exhausted."
That's what the canister of Cuban cigars and the stocked mini-fridge in his office are for.
But the rewards are there, and players who buy into his "give it your all, all the time" mantra know the benefits.
"It was my sophomore year when he said, 'When you leave this gym, when you finish your career, every day you leave here, you should feel like you gave 110 percent,' " former player Christy Cochran said. "And that's exactly it. If you put your career in his hands, you'd be great."
* * *
On a Friday night in November, sophomore setter Sam Tortorello runs off the court in pursuit of a wayward ball, but comes up just short, crashing into the scorer's table instead.
Pleased with the effort, Rose jumps up to shout out to his player.
"I'm glad you finally found out what your kneepads are for," he cracks.
And the infamous wit strikes again.
"I know this -- he's the most quick-witted person I've met in my life," Lori said. "It's been very entertaining for me. They broke the mold when they made him."
No matter the situation, despite how badly the team may be losing or how grueling the practice is, Rose always finds time for humor. He expects his team to work hard, but he still knows there is room for amusement.
"I want to have fun, I want to be able to laugh a little bit," Rose said. "I think you can run a serious program and still laugh and have a good time."
Assistant coach and former player Julie Miller maintains that Rose is so funny that his one-liners could be published in a book -- and she regrets not recording each and every one of them.
And it goes beyond the commentary. Just ask Cochran.
"I tend to be very energetic and we were at an away game, and I was just talking trash in the pre-game practice," she said. "He came over and pulled me aside onto a basketball court and pulled out this huge roll of duct tape. He taped me to the back of the basketball pole, and then he taped a huge piece of duct tape around my mouth. And he was like, 'You can stay there until you settle down!' I was dying of laughter the whole time."
Or consider his misfortunes while on the recruiting trail. Last January, he found himself trapped in a blizzard in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. During the SARS outbreak in Toronto, he was in Toronto, eating at an oriental buffet restaurant just three blocks from the quarantined hospital. And just this fall, he nearly got mugged while in the Dominican Republic to watch a recruit play.
"That is so Russ," Lori laughed.
The humor does more than make the team laugh; it loosens the players up and makes them more comfortable on the court in any circumstance.
It helped four time All-American Bonnie Bremner feel comfortable directing the offense as a freshman. And it helped Canadian outside hitter Syndie Nadeau adjust to a new country and a new language.
"When I got here, I didn't know English very well," Nadeau, a junior, said. "In practice it was hard for me. Sometimes I would just shake my head trying to look like I understood, but he knew better. He never got upset at me for that, instead he just turned it into a big joke and that made it so much easier on me."
* * *
Underneath it all, under the humor and the expectations, after being pleased and after being disappointed, Rose cares for all of his girls, and they care for him.
"Oh Bubba," Bremner said, referring to Rose by her nickname for him. "I truly, truly miss him. I don't even miss playing, but I miss just seeing him every day."
Each and every player knows that no matter what dig they missed this weekend or what drill they botched in practice, as soon as the volleyball is over, he is there for them, whether they need an ear to listen or a piece of advice. And this relationship continues past graduation.
"It's inevitable that I'll pick up the phone [in the office] and it's one of our former players and we'll chat and we'll catch up a little bit and then it's always 'Is Coach there?' " Schall said. "That's how it works. If they've gone through this program, they have his loyalty for the rest of their lives. Whatever they need, they can give him a call and he'll be there."
He's the guy they're supposed to call if they get into a bad situation and need a ride home. He's the guy they're supposed to talk to if they are homesick, if they have a personal problem, or if a class isn't going well. He's the guy who is supposed to be more than just a coach, he's supposed to be involved in his players' lives.
"He's not just looking at it as, you're my player and you wear number 15 or you wear number 7," Miller said. "You are Ashley Pederson and Ashley Fidler, and you are two totally unique people. I respect both of you as different people, and at the end of the day I'm still going to respect you in every area of life."
* * *
For Rose, it has been 25 years of nursing a program to maturity and it isn't over yet.
He has no timetable, nothing specific he needs to accomplish before he leaves. It will simply be over when it is no longer fun or when his body can no longer handle the stresses. While he maintains that he's not a healthy guy, he knows that one thing will continue to allow him to have fun on the job.
"I enjoy it because I enjoy the players," Rose said. "There are some kids that I just think had I not come across them in coaching, I wouldn't be nearly as happy in my life. And I can miss people, but I literally can't say enough about them."
Looking at the program he has built, that is just it. To him it isn't about the number of wins, it isn't about the championships, it's about the people.
It's about embracing a guy like Pops, Bleggi's grandfather, into the program for years, allowing him to help at practices, be on the sidelines at games, bring the girls lollipops and have something to live for in his twilight years.
It's about having an impromptu chat with the old man jogging around the South Gym prior to practice. "Coach, you've got a good team," the man says. "We're getting better," Rose smiles back, while shaking the man's hand. "But don't let me interrupt your run."
It's about the outpouring from alumni who had no ties to the program but found their Penn State pride so rekindled by the volleyball team's success that they e-mailed Rose after the national championship just to say congratulations.
And it's about the players that he welcomes to his program, pushes for four years, and then sends out into the world as better individuals, knowing that they will still look back every so often.
"I don't assess success, because maybe the best job we did in coaching was when we had the least talent, maybe the most important thing we do is to have somebody grow up under your direction and go out into the world and be a far better person," Rose said.
"What's more important, winning a game or winning a war with an individual about having confidence in themselves?"
For Rose, it has never been just about the volleyball. On the team that Russ built, it started out that way and it isn't changing anytime soon.
Because while times might be changing, Rose is not.
