Everything old is new again?

How about everything new is old again?

Emphasis is on “old.”

Friday’s announcement of the disintegration of the Pac-12 triggered several memories of previous divorces and poaching. University of Hawaii fans are most familiar with the “Breakaway Eight” of 1998 that halved the then-16 team Western Athletic Conference and created the Mountain West.

The irony is that, 25 years ago, 16 schools was deemed too many by five presidents from WAC schools. Now the Big Ten has become the Big 18 with the addition of Oregon, UCLA, USC and Washington, and the Big 12 is the Big 16 after adding Arizona, Arizona State, Colorado and Utah.

Forget about numbers in this football-driven equation. Perhaps it should be all just one big conference: the Big G … as in Greed.

So where does this leave UH, which has clung to the dream of Pac-10/12 membership since moving from a football independent to the WAC in 1979? Possibly in a worse position than 1977 when UH wasn’t even on the short list when the Pac-8 was looking to expand.

The memory that was triggered by Friday’s announcement is 46 years old, personal and somewhat career-defining.

When writing a series of articles for the UCLA Daily Bruin in January 1977, this reporter featured the top candidates and criteria being used. The Pac-8 was looking for academics, travel partners and on-the-field success.

There was talk about becoming a California-only conference, which meant dropping the two schools in both Washington and Oregon. San Jose State and Pacific — the oldest university in the state — could have been one pairing (with Fresno State in the running) and Long Beach State with either Cal State Fullerton or San Diego State as a partner.

But when it came to academics … Fresno, Fullerton, Long Beach, San Diego and San Jose were just emerging from college to university status … and admission standards were lower. To the “Big Four” (California, Cal, Stanford, UCLA and USC) that meant that academic borderline recruits would have an easier time being admitted to “state” schools.

Geographically challenged Hawaii was never in the mix.

But the two from the Grand Canyon State were: Arizona and Arizona State. ASU, under fiery head coach Frank Kush, was the more attractive of the two. The Sun Devils’ resume including a 12-0 record in 1975 with a Fiesta Bowl win over Nebraska and No. 2 final ranking in both the AP and UPI polls.

Kush was an “interesting” interview, to say the least. He was one of the most physically demanding coaches in the college game, but his abuse of his players eventually led to his firing in October 1979.

His reputation was intimidating, as was the 1977 interview situation. Kush had “five minutes for some girl sports reporter from UCLA” and it was going to be in the sauna in the athletic department.

Only one question to ask out loud. Would he be wearing a towel?

(The unspoken one was, “Is this what it’s going to be like if I pursue this career?”)

Who knows what Kush thought when the door opened and he saw a female dressed in a floor-length coat, sweater and long pants, one hand with a notepad and the other hand extended for an introduction.

“Aren’t you hot?” Kush asked.

“Yes, but they said this was the only time and place for an interview, so if you don’t mind, I don’t mind,” was the response. “Just let me take off my coat.”

We ended up in the training room for almost an hour, discussing the advantages of ASU and Arizona making the move to what would become the Pac-10.

Half of his predictions came true. Kush thought that San Diego State and San Jose State would replace the Arizona schools. The Aztecs did in 1978, the Spartans not until 1996, having been a founding member of the Pacific Coast Athletic Association (later the Big West).

Kush also thought the Pac-10 would eventually drive out the four “northwest” schools (the Oregons and Washingtons). Once again, he was half right, this time 46 years later, with the Ducks and Huskies abandoning their traditional in-state rivals for the Big Ten.

It’s doubtful that Kush could foresee this day, where the 108-year-old “Conference of Champions” has been reduced to a Gang of Four, perhaps even a Pac-0 within the week.

As for Hawaii, it could be 1977 all over again. Left out in the middle of the Pacific without an invite to the Pacific-pick-a-number.