The Daily OrangeThe Architect: Daryl Gross
By Adam Kilgore
Posted: 5/3/05, 12:06 AM EST Section: Sports
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Daryl Gross leans down, sitting at the desk that has been his for only four months, and pulls out a small, wooden box.
Signs of his past success are all around - the doctorate degree on the wall behind him, his sharp-as-broken-glass suit.
Signs of his undefined future are all around - the cardboard boxes filled with paperwork littering the floor, the mostly barren bookshelves.
He places the box on his desk. He opens it slowly and slides it across his desk.
"This," Gross says matter-of-factly, fluorescent light glimmering off his bald head, "is why I do this."
Inside is enough bling for a Jay-Z video. There are 18 rings, all commemorating a conference or national championship won by one of the teams Gross oversaw while at the University of Southern California. They symbolize what Gross strives for most - not just victory, but supremacy.
They symbolize something else, too. The rings represent Gross' journey from being an undersized Division II wide receiver studying pre-med to the man in control of the entire Syracuse athletics program. That last step occurred December 17, when Chancellor Nancy Cantor named Gross the successor to Jake Crouthamel, who had served as SU's director of athletics for 27 years.
Those rings are a by-product of Gross' tenacity, the cutthroat competitive streak that he blends with engaging affability. Behind his ever-present smile - which grows largest when he speaks about his two daughters, Jamie and Jolie - lies someone who needs to win.
"To me, to be in the middle of pack in the Big East, that doesn't excite me at all," Gross said. "If we're going to play it, we need to play it at the national level. That's the philosophy that I have, and that's the message that's getting out."
To hear Gross tell it, mediocrity will not be accepted within the Syracuse athletic department. He's holding those under him to the same strict standards he's aimed for his entire career.
Losing will not be tolerated by Gross, a man who still remembers the name (Andrew Green) of the boy who beat him in the finals of a wrestling tournament at Los Angeles Unified High School (ITALICS) in gym class (ITALICS).
"I don't know how he beat me, either," Gross said.
"He's so competitive, it's slightly annoying," said James Grandison, Gross' roommate at the University of California at Davis.
Two football seasons ago, when USC played California, Grandison decided to make the 10-minute trek from his home to Berkley to watch his old roommate's team. He planned to meet another roommate at the game, and afterward the trio of old college friends would head out for a couple drinks and some laughs, a mini-reunion of sorts.
