Down by two with 3.6 seconds on the clock.

The winner would move on for a chance at championship glory. The loser went home.

Favored in a second round NCAA Tournament matchup against the Houston Cougars, John Beilein and his Wolverines found themselves on the wrong side of the score and time running out to escape Wichita, Kansas with a win.

While Michigan basketball fans all over the country watched with nervous anticipation as the Wolverines huddled to discuss the inbounds play, Dale Faber was in the stands lamenting the missed free throws that could have sealed things for Michigan.

A coach in his own right, Faber had long studied Beilein and wondered what magic the master would muster.

Then Isaiah Livers passed the ball to Muhammad-Ali Abdur-Rahkman, who passed to Jordan Poole, who drained a game-winning 3-pointer as time expired.

For Michigan fans, the play was legend.

For Faber, it was deja vu.

"They were piddling around with that play the day before in our gym," he says. "It was classic."

Classic Beilein and an example of the legacy he is quietly, and often unknowingly, stamping on his sport.

* * *

The accepted definition of a coaching tree is the number of former assistants of one particular coach who eventually become head coaches themselves. In that regard, Beilein's branches are not as numerous or as prominent as, say, Mike Krzyzewski's.

Over the course of Beilein's 43-year career, at least 16 men have gone from sitting beside him on the bench to running their own programs, including LaVall Jordan, Bacari Alexander, and Mike Maker. That's a significant number, even if many are not stars on the college landscape.

There are many more branches, though, on what you might call Beilein's invisible coaching tree. Through his innovative schemes and spotless reputation, he has influenced coaches all over the country at various levels.

When Jordan, entering his second season at Butler, is asked to name coaches who have inquired about Beilein's methods, he laughs. "That would be a list now," he says. Jordan is consistently asked about his former boss: What drills did Beilein run? How did he emphasize a particular offensive concept? "People see success and success leaves footprints."

* * *

Dale Faber has coached basketball for more than 35 years, the last 15 as the head coach at Friends University, an NAIA school. He started paying attention to what Beilein, now 65, was doing when West Virginia made a deep postseason run in 2005.

"I was intrigued by the ball movement," Faber says. "The ball found the action."

In other words, he explains, the system doesn't require a star who dominates the ball. All five players move in response to what the defense presents. And it was not just offense.

Faber implemented the 1-3-1 zone defense Beilein often deployed at West Virginia. He followed Beilein's Michigan teams and admired how the veteran coach adapted to his personnel. In 2014, two weeks before Michigan would reach a regional final, Friends did the same, "running predominantly Michigan stuff," according to Faber.

Studying film was helpful. But Michigan's NCAA Tournament draw meant Faber could absorb the principles first-hand -- maybe.

Before last March, Faber had never met Beilein, but he really wanted to. Faber is the basketball coach at a small college in Wichita, Kansas, and his team's gym was a practice site for the opening rounds of the NCAA Tournament last March. Eight teams would be placed in Wichita, and Faber watched the Selection Show hoping Michigan would be among them. Faber got his wish, but the Wolverines could end up in another gym, especially if his was booked.

As his phone rang from potential teams -- including storied basketball programs Kansas and North Carolina State -- Faber waited for a Michigan area code. "I didn't want to book it," Faber says. "I was hoping it would be Michigan."

When he saw a number that started with 734, he answered. It was Beilein. The Wolverines were coming to the Garvey Physical Education Center.

Faber would get to meet Beilein, an experience that exceeded his expectations. Says Faber: "I feel I won the coaching lottery."

Still, there was no guarantee that he would even be allowed in the gym when the Wolverines took the practice floor.

Beilein has a reputation for being cagey about his playbook.

"Everything I had read was that getting to that cupboard where he keeps the six million plays was something that everybody was apprehensive about," Faber says.

His fears quickly evaporated.

In Wichita, Beilein treated Faber like an old friend. He asked questions and "wanted to share," Faber says. Faber watched from the sideline as Beilein led two practices in his gym, one before the NCAA Tournament opener against Montana and again before Houston.

"He's got all these goofy names for his plays," Faber says. "He'd come over and say, 'Did you catch that one?' I told him, 'I lost you on the pumpkin cupcake without icing. I don't know that one. But the Cap'n Crunch inbounds play and the Barry Larkin and the Cazzie Corner -- I'm a student of the game.'"

Faber appreciated Beilein's creativity with his terminology, though he jokes, "If I told my guys we were going to run Cap'n Crunch they'd probably be over in the cafeteria."

Seeing Beilein's stuff in person will allow Faber to better do what all smart coaches have always done. "I'm pretty good at stealing it and will continue to do so."

Faber might be tempted to steal the play that led to Poole's buzzer-beater. The shot sent the Wolverines to Los Angeles, where they won twice to advance to the Final Four. Beilein was thrilled the event was in San Antonio -- "one of the very premier places" to host, he'd say -- and so too was Pat Cunningham.

The head coach at Division III Trinity University grew up a Michigan basketball fan in Plymouth, just 20 miles from the U-M campus. Cunningham has been coaching for more than 40 years, including the last 19 at Trinity in San Antonio. The city has hosted NCAA Tournament games more than a half dozen times in that span, and schools typically use the Trinity gym to practice. Plus, Cunningham is on the board of the National Association of Basketball Coaches. Point is, he knows a lot of coaches.

Beilein, Cunningham says, "hasn't forgotten where he came from. Some coaches get a little full of themselves. He's always willing to share his knowledge and expertise."

Before the Wolverines practiced at Trinity in advance of their Final Four win over Loyola-Chicago, Cunningham had chatted with Beilein twice, each time on the recruiting trail. Michigan's coach doesn't let the media watch practice and is fond of saying, "I'm not going to give you the scouting report," when a reporter's question is, in his mind, too specific. But Cunningham puts Beilein in "the top 10 percent of coaches" as far as allowing other coaches to attend practice.

Beilein's accessibility is valuable to coaches because he has a mind worth picking. "There are very few coaches who get things named after them," Cunningham says, listing John Wooden, Pete Carril, and Jerry Tarkanian as examples. "For the last 12 or 15 years it's, 'OK, they're running Beilein.' His offense is copied by a lot of coaches."

That offense involves constant motion, screens, and cuts. Players must read and react to the defense. There are principles reminiscent of Carril's Princeton offense, but Beilein has added his own tweaks. "It's a unique action because of the timing and communication," Cunningham says. "It puts defenses in a real bind."

Cunningham runs some of Michigan's actions and his staff identifies certain opposing offenses as "Beilein." He'll spend ample time in the pre-season preparing his players to try and defend it.

Given the Wolverines' success last year, he knows there will be no shortage of copycats. Cunningham puts it bluntly: "Coach Beilein is one of the most influential coaches in our business."

* * *

Nearly 2,000 miles from Ann Arbor, a young coach has been studying John Beilein. From style of play to recruiting philosophy to sideline demeanor, pretty much everything about Beilein appeals to Shantay Legans.

Legans, 37, has one season as a head coach -- at Eastern Washington -- under his belt. Beilein caught his eye during the 2011-12 season, when Michigan earned a share of the Big Ten regular season championship. Legans learned more about Beilein's career, admiring the step-by-step rise from high school to Division I, always as a head coach. Now, he wants to model his program after Beilein's.

"He's unbelievable," Legans says. "I read everything about him."

Legans wants to spread the floor with five players who can shoot and pass. Next season, he says he'll have a center that can knock down 3s, and so he'll run some action similar to what Michigan did with Moe Wagner.

Legans wants to unearth diamonds in the rough, just as Beilein repeatedly does on the recruiting trail. "It makes you feel like you can find some guys that are under-the-radar. You don't have to go where everyone else is. You can do something different. That's pretty cool."

Beilein was voted the cleanest coach in college hoops by his peers in a poll released last summer. Legans says he also targets high-character kids. He's proud that his team posted a 3.56 GPA this past winter. That Beilein has had tremendous success, coming within one win of a national championship twice in the past six seasons, without compromising morally, gives Legans hope he can do the same.

Beilein, who is recovering from offseason heart surgery, could not be reached for comment.

Legans has never met Beilein. He's been in the same gym but the opportunity to say hello hasn't presented itself. Beilein, who watches as much tape as any coach in the country, is being studied on film by coaches like Legans. "As a young coach, to see a coach show so much enthusiasm, be well-mannered but still on the sideline looking like he's having so much fun, he's emotional, you can just see he loves coaching. ... That's who I want to be."

Of course it all comes back to the basketball, to what fascinated Legans to begin with. He describes a particular play Michigan used last season to free its big man for outside shots, one he plans to implement. Says Legans: "We'll probably call it 'Moe.'"

* * *

Kim Barnes Arico calls it "the touch," and Beilein has it. After a tough loss, Beilein is typically the first one in her office. If he's on the road, he'll pick up the phone. "I just want to check on you," he'll say, according to Barnes Arico. "You're doing a great job. Everything is going to be OK."

Coaches are prone to negative thoughts, and Michigan's women's basketball coach is no exception. Beilein provides reassurance when it's needed. "He'll talk me off the ledge," Barnes Arico says.

She came to Michigan in 2012, five years after Beilein, and immediately found a mentor. Barnes Arico regularly watches at least parts of his practices, noting how Beilein alters his prep based on the time of year and upcoming schedule in order to get his team to peak come tournament time.

She watches how he interacts with his assistants and the particular drills he runs. "He has some incredible end-of-game, sideline out of bounds, and length-of-the-floor plays that I've stolen through the years."

Barnes Arico is a more effective creator and communicator of a personalized plan for every player that joins her program, because she's seen how Beilein does it.

Standing on the Player Development Center practice court as her team practices foul shooting -- a drill that, based on last season's free throw stats, Beilein could borrow from Barnes Arico -- she says she came to Michigan from St. John's partly for the opportunity to work alongside Beilein and softball coach Carol Hutchins.

Barnes Arico has been successful at Michigan, reaching the NCAA Tournament twice and winning the NIT once in her six seasons. Like Beilein, she's the winningest coach in program history. The support she feels during the high points is appreciated. But Beilein's encouragement in the darker times has reminded Barnes Arico to do the same with her players and assistants.

"I think there's a lot that goes into being a tremendous coach," Barnes Arico says, "and he's kind of got it figured out."