Ben Howland was never the Wonderboy coach, the fast-talking, fast-rising prodigy hustling his way onto UCLA's short list. He made his rise the hard way, working over a decade as a Cal-Santa Barbara assistant until getting the Northern Arizona job, getting to the NCAA's and getting a chance to make himself a star at Pittsburgh.

	Ben Howland doesn't have the usual pedigree of UCLA coaches past, and that makes him the perfect fit to become the Bruins' next coach.

Coaches like Howland are careful, seldom chasing fame and fortune impulsively. The slow, sure climb has taught them that sometimes the best job is the one you're doing now.

Maybe the most wanted man in Westwood is staying at Pittsburgh, where Howland has a state of the art arena, a promising class of recruits and top talent returning next year. He has a Big East Championship program and that's nothing to leave on a whim.

Yes, life is sure sweet and nice, but understand something: The University of Pittsburgh isn't UCLA. It will never be UCLA. And to hear people insisting that he should stay away, that UCLA isn't worth his trouble, is just ridiculous. UCLA is still UCLA.

Do you know who created the illusion that the expectations are too high, that the long shadow of John Wooden is too tough, that UCLA isn't the job every coach ought to want for himself: The long line of cheap, bad and Bruins family hires failing on the job.

If Howland still has to decide whether this move is right for him, he has to know that he's right for it. He is everything UCLA has needed for the longest time. No one has done more with less in college basketball than Ben Howland. He doesn't recruit the biggest names, but the prospects who fit his style. Connecticut's Jim Calhoun is right: Pitt doesn't have the best talent in the Big East this year. It just has the best team.

The trouble winning national championships that UCLA has had since Wooden retired isn't with the job itself, but the people hired to do it. There were reasons good coaches couldn't stay there. Gene Bartow replaced Wooden and that was impossible. Larry Brown always regretted his impatience, reaching the Final Four and abruptly returning to the pros. The problem was never winning and losing with Jim Harrick, but the university's justified distrust of him. Larry Farmer? Walt Hazard? Steve Lavin? All easy family hires, all on the cheap, all furthering that myth that pressure is too suffocating there.

If UCLA is history's most magical program, Kentucky is standing there as 1-A to the Bruins. And what did Kentucky do when Joe B. Hall left? They hired Eddie Sutton. His failure had to do with the cash tumbling out of that overnight express envelope, not his Hall of Fame ability. Kentucky hired Rick Pitino. It hired Tubby Smith. Do you honestly believe there's more pressure coaching college basketball near the beaches of SoCal than the Bluegrass of Kentucky?

The pressure isn't unique to UCLA. After all, nobody is satisfied anywhere. Wherever you coach, there is someone calling a talk radio station, posting on the Internet, writing letters to the editor. Get over it. If coaches want to be paid like CEO's, these are the consequences. Boosters and fans want more and more wins, just like stockholders want greater and greater earnings. Turn off the computer, pop a C.D. into your car stereo and you'll never hear it. If it bothers you that much, take a Division III job for $50,000 a season. No one will ever bother you.

	John Wooden's 10 NCAA titles probably will never be matched, but try telling that to UCLA fans.

Watching coaches get overwhelmed at UCLA has had more do with the appearance of outside pressure, when it was probably more a byproduct of incompetence. If a coach is unsure what he's doing, of course the criticism will consume him. Deep down, he'll wonder: Maybe they're right about me.

UCLA needs a coach secure with his substance, his beliefs. No one can come to Pauley Pavilion and learn on the run. UCLA isn't a job for a flashy recruiter. It isn't a job for a salesman. This school sells itself. One of the outgoing assistants on Lavin's staff, the respected Jim Saia, used to laugh when he heard past UCLA assistant coaches leaving for head jobs believing that they must be the most charismatic and charming recruiters in the country. After all, look at the blue chippers they lured to Westwood. After leaving, they found out it wasn't so easy to recruit everywhere else.

They found out the truth.

It wasn't them. It was UCLA.

"With recruiting, all you can do is screw it up here," Saia said.

All those star players in Southern California, all begging to play for the Bruins. Whatever kids believed of Lavin's competence, the elite still signed for him. And they will come, whomever takes the job.

The talent on the court has never been the problem at UCLA -- just the talent on the sidelines. Years ago, UCLA couldn't afford Mike Krzyzewski and Jim Valvano, ending up settling for Pepperdine's Harrick. The administration gets ripped for refusing to join the rat race of escalating college basketball salaries, but they should be commended. UCLA is still the most romantic story in college basketball history and great coaches ought to embrace the challenge of writing the greatest Bruins chapter since Wooden.

Through the years, school administrators made this much harder than it needed to be. The Bruins don't need to hire an alumnus, a snazzy image in a blue blazer, a fancy name. UCLA needs to hire a good, clean winning basketball coach.

So, yes, maybe Howland is happy. Maybe he wants to stay at Pitt. Maybe he's just going to play it safe.

And yet, when UCLA comes calling, Ben Howland should listen long and hard and understand that he's the best man for the best job in college basketball. UCLA can still turn a coach into a living legend. After all these years, UCLA is still UCLA.

Adrian Wojnarowski is a columnist for The Record (N.J.) and a regular contributor to ESPN.com. He can be reached at ESPNWoj@aol.com.