Since his arrival in 1982, Temple coach John Chaney has led his team to 19 straight postseason appearances. He recently answered five questions from the Enquirer's Dustin Dow.

1. What has changed the most in college basketball during your career?

A: We've become a lot more legislative in terms of raising the bar, at least for the college basketball athletes, more so than any other group. And every time there is a ruling made, it's made on the backs of minorities, more in basketball than any other sport. It's totally counter to what is happening in education today. College has become all about money, and there are arbitrary rules made without any regard as to who they will affect the most.

2. What is your greatest memory as a coach?

A: Aaron McKie, Eddie Jones, Mark Jackson, Mark Macon. All these guys got together and just provided our school with $800,000, and it's going to benefit the John Chaney Foundation, which helps poor kids. None of those guys were All-American high school players, and they all came from one-parent families or less, and the NCAA said they had no business going to college. Those are my proudest moments, seeing those guys make that type of contribution. It's a great feeling.

3. Who are your favorite coaches?

A: John Thompson, Mike Krzyzewski, Bob Knight. They have a lot of things I admire: discipline, structure, not so much X's and O's. They are masters of humanity. Roy Williams is in there, too. Many good coaches find themselves in situations where they have to direct the lives of youngsters.

4. Did you ever consider coaching in the NBA?

A: They could never handle me. They'd go crazy. I really never even thought about it. I've been so used to being in control of my team. I wouldn't have that in the pro ranks. Of course, it's easier when you've got the money to give up some control. But I'd rather deal with the worst in college than the best in the pros.

5. Is this your last season on the bench?

A: I'm often asked that. It depends on the kids. I think there's a couple who don't want me put out to pasture. If I feel the kids are good guys, I can stay. If two or three of them are stinkers, I'm getting out. But it's like walking away from your life. I don't know what to do. I guess you sit around eating peanuts and drinking beer and start lying about what you did.