Ex-Teammate Art Lee on Cal Coach Mark Madsen: `He’s Different Than Everyone Else'

Fellow Stanford alum Kris Weems: `Cal’s got a damned good coach coming in.'

There were 26 seconds left in the second half and Stanford still trailed Rhode Island 74-73 with a trip to the 1998 Final Four on the line. Art Lee flicked the ball loose from a URI player, Mark Madsen collected it, threw down a ferocious dunk for a one-point lead and celebrated with a primal scream.

He converted the ensuing free throw and the Cardinal was on its way to a 79-77 victory and a trip to San Antonio.

Madsen, 47, who will be introduced Monday as Cal’s new head basketball coach, was a 6-foot-9, 235-pound sophomore forward on the team whose season ended with an 86-85 overtime loss to Kentucky in the national semifinals.

Mark Madsen celebrates a dunk / Photo courtesy of Stanford Athletics

The player his teammates called Mad Dog averaged 15.2 points and 12.2 rebounds in the Cardinal’s five-game NCAA tournament run. "He was a huge part of all the success we had,” Lee said this week.

For Lee and Kris Weems, the starting backcourt on that Stanford team, even the biggest moments on game days aren’t what they remember most about Mark Madsen.

Weems, who works as a player development coach for the Golden State Warriors, said he’s happy for the opportunity Madsen is getting in Berkeley.

“He’s such a good dude, he was such a great teammate to be around, on and off the court,” Weems said. “He’s kind of making his way through the coaching ranks — he’s been on both the pro and the college side. He’s had success and he’s getting rewarded. Cal’s got a damned good coach coming in.”

Lee, who has lived recently in Chicago, is returning to the Bay Area and next fall will work at the Branson School in Ross as department chair of human development and wellness.

Art Lee / Photo courtesy of Stanford Athletics

Asked about Madsen’s reputation as being somewhat different that most people, Lee laughed.

“Oh, he’s different than everyone else,” he said. “Mad Dog was always the nicest person you’d ever meet. He was just a gentle giant, if you will. His ferocity on the court was just amazing, and then his calm, kind, demeanor off the court was even more astonishing. That was just the dynamic he had in his being.

“He never swore, never cursed. Anytime we would speak on anything that was a bit off-kilter he would blush and laugh his way out of the conversation. I just loved playing with Mad Dog. He was an awesome teammate.”

But he needed a warning label: Beware of flailing elbows. Casey Jacobsen said during a recent TV broadcast that he was afraid to be on the other team from Madsen when the team scrimmaged in practice.

“Oh, that is definitely true,” Lee said. “As a guard you wanted to stay away from those elbows when he got the rebound.

“He was never a nasty player. If he hit you, he would apologize immediately. But it didn’t stop him from being strong and aggressive and tenacious.”

Weems recalls that Brevin Knight, Stanford’s senior All-America point guard on the ’97 team, quickly ran out of patience with Madsen’s polite approach to opponents.

“He would just knock people down and then he’d pick them up. `Oh, my bad, I didn’t mean to do that,’ “ Weems said. “Brevin went to him one time and said, `If you don’t stop helping these guys up, I’m not giving you the ball.’

“And he was like, `Roger that,’ and he stopped doing it. I’ll never forget that. We had to teach him that he could hurt guys and not have to feel bad about it. You have to be able to harness your aggressiveness and he figured out a way to do it that got him to play (nine seasons) in the NBA.”

Lee’s favorite Madsen moment came in practice one day when the team was scrimmaging.

“Mad Dog, he was playing with his usual vigor and fire and I think he got an offensive rebound and he went back up and dunked the ball and I believe he shattered the backboard.” Lee said, trying to recall the details from a quarter-century ago. “He either broke the rim or partially shattered the backboard. He destroyed the hoop.

“I just remember getting so excited and running (over) and jumping on him, giving him high-fives. He was just so amped up. That’s what we needed. We needed his passion, his fire. I love his calm nature off the court, then just his relentless approach, being as dominant as he could in the paint.”

Kris Weems / Photo courtesy of Stanford Athletics

Still, Weems never expected Madsen to become a coach because he doesn’t relate to people in the same manner as most coaches do.

“I’m sure he gets his point across in his own special way. That makes me feel good because you don’t have to curse and scream at guys. That sets him apart,” Weems said. “I’m sure parents enjoy that and the kids don’t have to feel like they’re going to get brow-beat.”

Lee says he doesn’t watch much basketball these days but his appreciation for Madsen has grown.

“As I’ve gotten older, it really doesn’t even matter how good someone is in basketball. The biggest character trait is that he’s a good person,” Lee said.

“I can imagine people want their child, if you will, in the care of someone who truly wants to build them up as a human being, as a young man, and get them off to a great start in their adult life.”

As for turning around a program that was 3-29 this season, Weems and Lee both figure it might take some time.

“Nowhere to go but up,” Lee said. “He’ll figure it out. I can’t say I’m a Cal supporter, but I am a Mad Dog supporter and I want to see him do well.”

Cover photo of Stanford's 1998 starting lineup, from left, Mark Madsen, Tim Young, Art Lee, the late Peter Sauer and Kris Weems courtesy of Stanford Athletics

Follow Jeff Faraudo of Cal Sports Report on Twitter: @jefffaraudo