His entire coaching life, Scott Drew has sold hope like it’s a miracle drug. That style first made the cynical college basketball world label him a phony. Now, it’s helped him turn Baylor into one of the best teams in the country.

Scott Drew doesn’t want to be doing this. He’d rather not have a sitdown interview in his office right now, less than an hour after his Baylor basketball team’s first loss in 105 days, in the biggest home game in program history. The timing is all wrong.

On the table in front of him is the box score from Kansas 64, Baylor 61. There are a few handwritten notes on the paper, the feedback from a quick postgame meeting with his staff. Drew is still wearing his gray suit from the game, tie still cinched tight around his neck, missed free throws and Jayhawks lob dunks still crowding his brain.

He hasn’t let go, and he won’t let go until he’s watched the video at least once, at home, alone, examining the errors that left No. 1 Baylor three points in arrears of No. 3 Kansas. That’s what he’d rather be doing right now.

“I watch it soon as I can after games, especially losses,” Drew said. “Winning’s a little easier. You can put that one off and go get a meal. Losing, it’s usually ride home, shower, then watch it.

“Close games for coaches are the worst. The coach goes over every possession—what could I have done better?”

That self-examination and self-flagellation can wait, though. Today there are a few guests to attend to after hosting the biggest game of the 2019-20 college season nationally, and Drew will do it with a torrent of enthusiasm.

A big part of being Scott Drew is appearing absolutely overjoyed to be doing this interview that he really doesn’t want to be doing. He greets the reporter with a hug—not a half-assed bro hug, but a two-armed, long-lost-relative embrace. He proudly introduces the reporter to former Bear standout Curtis Jerrells, now playing professionally in Italy but back in town for this game. The internal postgame angst has been coated over with a thick veneer of charm.

If it weren’t for the occasional pursed lips and furrowed brow, you’d think Scott Drew is having the time of his life doing this interview he doesn’t want to do after a gut-churning loss. If the interview lasts all day, he’s there for it. There were so many days—months, years—when nobody much cared about his Baylor basketball program, and now the world wants in.

So he’s got the door wide open.

His entire coaching life, Drew has sold hope like it’s a miracle drug. He’s sold it like a true believer, trying to convert the masses into believing in Baylor. He is so over-the-top positive that it’s seen as a negative by some. Is he real or is he a fake?

He comes across as the Mr. Rogers of college basketball, and Mr. Rogers’ neighborhood is not the college hoops neighborhood. It is considerably less neighborly. It is a cutthroat, cynical neighborhood that is at odds with Drew’s public countenance.

“He has an optimism, a sense of faith and a sense of family and togetherness that is real,” said ESPN analyst Fran Fraschilla, a Texas resident who knows the Big 12 better than anyone. “People said early on he’s a phony, he’s a charlatan. But the more you see it, you know it’s real stuff. He’s like that Sunday school preacher, but he believes what he’s preaching. Optimism, with him, is like breathing.”

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