LOUISVILLE, Ky. – In major college athletics, where coaching loyalty is quickly becoming an oxymoron, there’s Jim Boeheim. He’s a coach who walked on at Syracuse in 1962, took a graduate assistant job at his alma mater in 1969, became the head coach in 1976 and never left.

In Saturday night’s 76-71 loss to Louisville, Boeheim coached his 1,000th game. That’s an accomplishment within itself, considering he becomes the 22nd head coach in Division I history to reach that mark. Only four other active coaches have achieved the milestone. None have done it at the same school.

When Boeheim was asked about the achievement on Thursday, he refused to take any public pride in the mark. It’s midseason, after all, and Syracuse has suffered from inconsistency. Boeheim’s focus was on Louisville, and now it will be on Tuesday’s game against Notre Dame.

‘Numbers like that aren’t relevant when you get into the season,’ Boeheim said. ‘You just look at the next game and concentrate and focus on that. Anything else, all the other numbers, we’ll look back on someday.’

As much as he wants to play the 1,000 games off as unimportant, there is something noteworthy about the fact he’s done it for this long at the same place.

Coaching isn’t much different than business. You often have to start at the bottom and get to the top. It leaves a situation where college football and basketball coaches come to a school, rally the fans and alumni, recruit well enough to win and then depart for a better offer. And there’s nothing wrong with this – most people would take more money and a better job when they get the chance.

It makes Boeheim a rarity. Actually, it makes him an endangered species. Coaches who stay at the same place for 10 years are rarities. Coaches who stay for 20 years are like finding a four-leaf clover. A 30-year coach at the same place? Don’t even bother looking. The same praise should also go to assistant coach Bernie Fine, who’s been by Boeheim’s side the entire time.

It’s especially noteworthy when looking at the other bench, where Louisville head coach Rick Pitino sat.

Pitino was one of Boeheim’s first hires along with Fine back in 1976, when Boeheim interrupted the Pitinos’ honeymoon to offer him a job. Since then, Pitino has coached at four different colleges and with two NBA teams. He’s arguably been more successful than Boeheim, considering he’s been to more Final Fours (four to three) than Boeheim in fewer years, they have the same amount of championships (one) and Pitino has a better winning percentage.

But Boeheim will forever be Syracuse’s coach. Pitino, for all his successes and all the accolades he deserves, has no group of fans that identify him as their own.

At Louisville, it’s about Denny Crum, who will have the court named after him on Feb. 9, and won two titles for the Cardinals. At Kentucky, which Pitino resurrected from NCAA sanctions into a title contender, he’ll never hold the same status as the venerable Adolph Rupp, who has an entire arena named after him. Maybe Providence, but he was only there for two seasons. Not Boston University – Pitino only took BU to the NCAA Tournament once. Certainly not the Boston Celtics, whose fans cringe at his name, nor the New York Knicks, whose storied history includes Pitino only as a footnote.

He’s still one of the great coaches in college basketball history, but his legacy will be taking three different schools to a Final Four, causing him to be respected more than loved.

Boeheim’s different.

Pitino likes to tell the story of a vacation he took with his wife, Boeheim and Boeheim’s first wife. They were sitting on the beach in Bermuda and the question was proposed that if they had all the money in the world, where would they live? Pitino’s wife said Park Avenue. Boeheim’s then-wife said Monaco. Pitino said Miami. Boeheim said Syracuse.

‘He loves the school,’ Pitino said. ‘To him it’s heaven.’

It’s not the NBA, and it’s not even North Carolina, UCLA or Kentucky. But Syracuse is a place he loves and a place that loves him. His team plays on a court that bears his signature in a city where he has a television show, two radio shows and a group of fans that will fill a 25,000-seat dome in sub-zero temperatures because even though players come and go, the same guy has coached on the sideline for 1,000 games.

Maybe loyalty is worth something after all.