he $6 million buyout he received from the Nets, plus the five-year, $4.5 million contract he signed to revive the Memphis program have taken the financial uncertainty out of his future.
What is less certain is his legacy as a coach. That is important to him. He was on the fast track at UMass, compiling a 193-71 record in eight seasons, which included five NCAA and two NIT appearances, culminating with the Minutemen's Final Four run in 1996.
There was some baggage, as well: charges of academic failures and agents in the program, lavishing gifts and cash on center Marcus Camby, which resulted in the NCAA vacating the Minutemen's Final Four spot.
Calipari looks back and says he would have done some things differently.
''I should have gotten more involved,'' he said. ''I could have said, `Here's two agents, pick one of them.' Maybe that would have changed things. But I stayed out of it.
''But I didn't feel comfortable doing it. We had everyone in, talking to the players about the agents. The NCAA, the Players Association. I thought we did what we had to do. We did what we were supposed to do. No one at the university knew. But it was under my watch. So I'll take the responsibility. But we didn't have bad kids who got in trouble with the police. No one flunked out.''
Had he stayed at UMass, Calipari said, he would have fought the NCAA's decision to vacate the Final Four slot.
''I would have fought that hard,'' he said. ''We didn't know and I didn't think we did anything wrong. But time is ultimately the judge. If we didn't do the right thing, if we did something wrong, it will eventually all come out. Stuff like that always does.''
As for leaving UMass?
''I enjoyed UMass,'' said Calipari. ''My family considered it home. It was tough to leave. But it was time. It was time to go. The program had become so big, it was tough to sustain. It was too much for some people. It was tough to feed the dragon.''
So Calipari did what many would have done. He took the money and ran, looking for security for his family and a new challenge.
Picking his spot
He took a year to get adjusted to the NBA, brought the Nets into the playoffs in his second year, and was fired 20 games into his third year when the team got off to a 3-17 start and the inmates were running the asylum.
He went into exile with Brown for two more years, but with three kids, he wanted more stability than the life of an NBA assistant affords.
Openings at Missouri and Georgia Tech drew his interest, but with money still in the bank, he could afford to be choosy.
''I wasn't going to come back and start completely over again,'' said Calipari. ''I wanted to come to a place that had facilities, that had a commitment. I felt I was past the stage where I had to go out and sell and do everything.''
Enter Memphis, a program with a history: NCAA title game in 1973, Final Four appearance in 1985. But also a program, a school, and a city with an inferiority complex.
Until Calipari arrived last March, the Tigers had gone through three coaches in three years, Larry Finch, Tic Price, and Johnny Jones. Finch, a former Memphis star, won more games in 11 seasons (220) than any coach in school history. But his relationship with the local high school coaches and media was strained. Price got himself into problems off the court, while Jones, filling in when Price was fired last winter, was merely a caretaker.
Memphis athletic director R.C. Johnson knew he needed more than an X's-and-O's guy.
''We wanted a head coach that could help us be the very best we could be,'' said Johnson. ''We have found that person.''
Calipari came down for a visit in February and was surprised. Unlike UMass, where he had to fight for attention, Memphis basketball was the only game in town in the winter. The facilities, from the 20,000-seat Pyramid downtown to the spacious new practice facility on campus, were state-of-the-art.
''Plus, it's a city school, but it's not a downtown campus,'' he said. ''I liked the feel of the place.''
He also saw an admissions policy that was generous and a talent pool of 40 high schools in the Memphis area that could provide the players to compete not only in Conference USA but nationally.
He talked to his wife about the decision.
''I said, `Ellen, what do you think?' Only we can screw this up. It's all here for us.''
Head-on approach
Calipari also knew that winning was not enough. He had to excite the campus. He had to excite the city.
That is coming. He began with scheduling. Teams such as Temple, Stanford, Utah, Arkansas, and Tennessee are all on the Tigers' schedule. And that's in addition to high-profile Conference USA opponents such as Cincinnati, DePaul, and Louisville.
Calipari knows the Tigers will take some hits early.
''But I don't think you can play Podunks and be a national team,'' he said. ''And the only way to excite people is go out and play people.''
So in the next week, as Memphis opens its season, Temple and old Calipari nemesis John Chaney will be a featured act on national television.
Calipari says he has learned from his past, which he hopes will make his future brighter.
He has brought in two former UMass players, Derek Kellogg and Tony Barbee, as assistants. He has a strong support group he knows and trusts.
''I learned if you are fighting each other on a college campus, you can't do it,'' said Calipari. ''You can't get it done if you have fiefdoms.''
Calipari has recruited hard, going national as well as local. He feels confident he can get the job done. He has already had an effect on the campus, the city, and the country.
''People are watching what we do,'' he said with a laugh.
It feels right, watching Calipari going through practice, teaching, cajoling. When some of the players complain about being tired after a hard practice the day before, Calipari tells them that in the NBA they play four games in five nights.
The players nod. He has walked the walk, so he can talk the talk. Calipari has fought for his players, getting them better dorm rooms, upgrading the weight-room facilities. He jokes with them at dinner. He pushes them to be better. It all feels right, natural.
Elvis may have left the building. But Coach Cal has arrived.