GoldandBlack.com is doing a series of blogs this week on the legacy of former Purdue athletic director Morgan Burke, covering different angles of the story.
Today, who he was at Purdue, for lack of a better way of putting it. Later, we'll get into accomplishments, hiring history, football and such things.
I got asked on a radio show last winter, "Does Morgan Burke really want to win?"
The answer was an unequivocal, "No one wants to win more."
I followed by pointing out that wanting to win and knowing how to win aren't always the same thing, and that'll be revisited later in this series, but the point was that there was no one who wanted Purdue to do well more than its now-former A.D., and few who took it more personally when it didn't.
Athletic directors aren't always omnipresent around the departments they oversee. Burke was, taking pride in personally knowing everyone who wore a Purdue uniform, a testament to his investment in those young peoples' success.
And Purdue's.
Burke would probably be the first to admit he was a bit of a sore loser, and there's nothing wrong with that. He often described himself as a "fan," and often acted the part. Again, there's nothing wrong with that, as long as you don't act like a fan when you're supposed to act like an athletic director.
Point is, yes, Burke wanted Purdue to win. More than anyone.
But not at all costs.
Burke's legacy at Purdue is a bit complicated, I guess you can say.
Purdue accomplished significant things competitively under his watch: Football's outstanding run; basketball's back-to-back-back titles, then the program's resurgence under Matt Painter; national titles in women's basketball and women's golf; and Olympic medals in diving.
No one will argue that Purdue has thrived competitively as much as it would have liked. Burke himself wouldn't.
And that's where Burke's legacy is sort of an eye-of-the-beholder kind of thing.
He long held staunch support from those he worked for at the university, because of his way of keeping the books tidy and putting the emphasis where it "should be," as some might say, in terms of academics, integrity and such. Purdue's always liked to puff out its chest about those things.
Among his peers and in NCAA circles, such things were part of what earned him tremendous respect outside of West Lafayette.
However noble those pursuits are, they do not win games, matches or championships, and in part because of it, the word 'commitment' often followed Burke around among fans.
Burke was to some extent a reflection of Purdue. It was never his idea for the school itself not to pay for sports. He managed a self-sustaining athletic department for nearly a quarter of a century and did so adhering to the core principles the university itself has long purported to stand for.
He did manage with a corporate, fiscally responsible, everyone-is-replaceable sort of mind, which made him a bit polarizing to those within his department's walls and looking on from the outside.
But largely as Purdue's athletic director, Burke executed what university leadership and cultural mandates around here asked of him.
Purdue, as an institution, appreciated that for most of his reign; fans often bristled, worse than that the past few years. Burke knew as well as anyone, though, that A.D. jobs are not popularity contests.
The job and climate changed profoundly during Burke's two-and-a-half decades. The Internet and the onslaught of opinions that came with it was an adjustment. So were escalating salaries, coaches having agents, the referendum on amateurism and the facility war.
Burke was never a "win at all costs" guy, nor was he ever asked to be by the people he answered to.
That doesn't mean, though, he didn't want to win.
Today, who he was at Purdue, for lack of a better way of putting it. Later, we'll get into accomplishments, hiring history, football and such things.
I got asked on a radio show last winter, "Does Morgan Burke really want to win?"
The answer was an unequivocal, "No one wants to win more."
I followed by pointing out that wanting to win and knowing how to win aren't always the same thing, and that'll be revisited later in this series, but the point was that there was no one who wanted Purdue to do well more than its now-former A.D., and few who took it more personally when it didn't.
Athletic directors aren't always omnipresent around the departments they oversee. Burke was, taking pride in personally knowing everyone who wore a Purdue uniform, a testament to his investment in those young peoples' success.
And Purdue's.
Burke would probably be the first to admit he was a bit of a sore loser, and there's nothing wrong with that. He often described himself as a "fan," and often acted the part. Again, there's nothing wrong with that, as long as you don't act like a fan when you're supposed to act like an athletic director.
Point is, yes, Burke wanted Purdue to win. More than anyone.
But not at all costs.
Burke's legacy at Purdue is a bit complicated, I guess you can say.
Purdue accomplished significant things competitively under his watch: Football's outstanding run; basketball's back-to-back-back titles, then the program's resurgence under Matt Painter; national titles in women's basketball and women's golf; and Olympic medals in diving.
No one will argue that Purdue has thrived competitively as much as it would have liked. Burke himself wouldn't.
And that's where Burke's legacy is sort of an eye-of-the-beholder kind of thing.
He long held staunch support from those he worked for at the university, because of his way of keeping the books tidy and putting the emphasis where it "should be," as some might say, in terms of academics, integrity and such. Purdue's always liked to puff out its chest about those things.
Among his peers and in NCAA circles, such things were part of what earned him tremendous respect outside of West Lafayette.
However noble those pursuits are, they do not win games, matches or championships, and in part because of it, the word 'commitment' often followed Burke around among fans.
Burke was to some extent a reflection of Purdue. It was never his idea for the school itself not to pay for sports. He managed a self-sustaining athletic department for nearly a quarter of a century and did so adhering to the core principles the university itself has long purported to stand for.
He did manage with a corporate, fiscally responsible, everyone-is-replaceable sort of mind, which made him a bit polarizing to those within his department's walls and looking on from the outside.
But largely as Purdue's athletic director, Burke executed what university leadership and cultural mandates around here asked of him.
Purdue, as an institution, appreciated that for most of his reign; fans often bristled, worse than that the past few years. Burke knew as well as anyone, though, that A.D. jobs are not popularity contests.
The job and climate changed profoundly during Burke's two-and-a-half decades. The Internet and the onslaught of opinions that came with it was an adjustment. So were escalating salaries, coaches having agents, the referendum on amateurism and the facility war.
Burke was never a "win at all costs" guy, nor was he ever asked to be by the people he answered to.
That doesn't mean, though, he didn't want to win.
