Jack’s Blog

Robert Parish was selected as one of the 50 greatest players of all-time.  Does that make him qualified to be an NBA coach?  To my knowledge there’s never been a definitive study done comparing skill as a player to that of a coach.  However, history tells us that while being a great player doesn’t preclude someone from having a similar career on the bench, it’s a rare superstar who becomes a successful coach.

Parish is upset at his former teammates, claiming they didn’t reach out to him the past few years.  Independent of former players shunning him or teams turning their backs on him (mainly his club, the Celtics), his story boils down to the fact that a) he’s broke, b) he’s not broke but doesn’t have as much money as he needs or c) he simply just doesn’t have as much money as he wants.

The story of his plight always returns to his money woes.  He’s auctioned off his championship rings, his Hall-of-Fame ring and his 50 greatest player ring, items most people would never part with.  Although he was employed by the team he played for, Parish claimed the $80,000 a year job the Celtics were paying him wasn’t enough.  He said he was in the market for an NBA assistant or head coaching position - one that paid six or seven figures.  Right there, he lost sympathy from most of us common folk.  Personally, prior to my retirement, I had seven figure jobs from as far back as 1977.  Of course, two of those figures were after the decimal point.

The reason Parish says he ought to be hired is because he was such a highly skilled player himself; that he could really help a team.  Parish is experiencing the same cold shoulder as a couple other former superstars - Kareem Adbul Jabbar and Rick Barry.  Each of these guys shared a characteristic other than being one of, if not the best, at their position.  All were standoffish.  And that’s being extremely kind.

What Robert Parish, as well as others like him, needs to learn is summed up in a line I heard many years ago from Hubie Brown:

“You’ve got to learn how to say hello before it’s time to say goodbye.”

Dirk Nowitzki amazed everyone with his free throw shooting in the NBA playoffs.  In the finals, especially, he shot 97.1% (33-34)!  In Game 6, the Miami Heat, needing a victory to force a Game 7 (which would also be played at home), missed thirteen charity tosses (they shot an abysmal 20-33) - and lost by ten.

My wife, Jane, is a graduate of the University of Tennessee so, naturally, her sport of choice is football.  She’s come to appreciate basketball, however, having been married to me for 24 years and having watched our two sons play high school hoops.  Now that the younger one, Alex, is being recruited by Division I colleges, her interest in the game has peaked.  Yet, she still doesn’t have a thorough knowledge of it.

Sunday was not only Game 6 of the NBA finals (and the clincher) for the Dallas Mavericks.  It also happened to be graduation day at the University of California-Irvine for our older son, Andy.  This meant we didn’t get to watch the game.  Rather, we listened to the broadcast on our drive home. As Hubie Brown and Dr. Jack Ramsey kept mentioning the increasing number of free throws missed by the Heat, Jane made the comment that she couldn’t believe they kept missing.

Since I have a greater understanding of the game, I started to explain that it wasn’t as easy as people think.  She then said something that put all my knowledge into perspective and showed common sense might just trump intelligence:

“Shouldn’t guys who make it to the professional level be able to shoot free throws?”

What defines a successful coach?  Is a high school coach judged by how many wins he gets or how many of his kids continue playing at the college level?  How about a college coach?  Is it how many championships he wins or how many future pros he develops?  And on the professional level?  That one’s easy.  Or is it?

Is an NBA coach deemed a success only by the number of championship rings he acquires?  What about guys like Hubie Brown, Jeff Van Gundy, George Karl, Don Nelson and Jerry Sloan - none of whom won it all as a coach (not counting Hubie’s championship with the Kentucky Colonels of the ABA), yet each of whom is highly respected in coaching circles.

There are those (mainly fans) who refuse to place Phil Jackson on a coaching pedestal, scoffing that the only reason he won championships (11 of them) is because he had the best players.  These purists claim that the truly successful coach is someone like Red Auerbach.  But didn’t Red have the best players of that day?  Or at least more of them?

Some people state that a great coach is one who gets players to play as close to their potential as humanly possible.  The problem with that definition is how does anyone know another’s maximum potential?  Maybe the key to coaching is getting the guys to “play hard.”  At least when teams are giving all-out effort fans feel they’re getting their money’s worth - if only because they know how hard it is to give such an effort, whether in a physical workout or simply in their daily job.  It would be interesting to be able to measure max effort in the workplace.

Although it might not be the trump card regarding the ultimate goal of coaching, Phil Jackson made quite an intriguing remark to Dan Patrick in his interview in the most recent Sports Illustrated issue (2/28/11):

“Coaching is about wills.  You have to outwill players sometimes and get them to give up their selfish motives.”

After hearing coaches, congressmen and other “high up there” people (you readers know what I’m talking about) speak, I realized I haven’t felt, for quite a while, the same inspirational stirring I used to when I listened to public speakers.  It drove me back to a blog I did on 7/6/07, entitled, The Two Greatest Speakers of All-Time.  Tell me if you don’t agree, or if you don’t, let me know your faves.

As has been noted on several occasions, I was a member of the National Speakers Association for a number of years.  Listening to professional - and even some amateur - speakers is an enjoyable pastime for me.  I value the education I receive listening to the topic, but even moreso, I really get into the speaker’s delivery, mannerisms and, simply, the overall presentation and everything that’s part of it.  If it fits into my style, I’ll incorporate it into my speeches.  And it won’t take me but one speech to realize whether what I thought would work for me actually does, or if I should leave it alone - that it might be something only that particular speaker could pull off.

Throughout the years, I’ve listened, observed and studied the greats, e.g. Zig Ziglar, Cavett Robert, Art Berg, Jeannie Robertson, Patricia Fripp, W. Mitchell, Hubie Brown, Art Holst, Les Brown, you get the idea.  I love learning and being entertained by speakers and there are so many great ones out there.

But … for my money, the two best speakers ever are Winston Churchill and Martin Luther King, Jr.  When you heard Churchill, you were obviously impressed, but the more you listen to his speeches, the more you realize the unbelivable command of the English language he had (he never even paused to think about the right word to use, it seemed to just come to him) and the fact that he never, ever stuttered or lost track of his thoughts.  He rose to speak and nailed it - on the first take (as if he were allowed another).

Dr. King’s greatest oratorical traits were his enunciation and use of inflection.  He pronounced each and every word precisely.  His voice would rise and lower at exactly the right time, thus holding his audience’s attention independent of the length of the speech.  Several others have attempted to imitate his style (certainly a wise idea), but I’ve yet to hear anyone master those two characteristics which absolutely captivated every crowd to whom he spoke.

Although many can recite bits and pieces of their speeches (”This is our finest hour!” and “I have a dream!”), the line which sums them up, as well as all truly great speakers is: 

“People remember more what they feel than what they hear.”

Anyone who’s ever listened to the speeches of Winston Churchill and Martin Luther King, Jr. “felt” infinitely more than they heard.

During part of my tenure at Fresno State, I did the color commentary for the Bulldogs locally televised basketball games.  While it was nice to get noticed around town, especially when it was on an occasion either or both of my sons were with me, I fully realized that not one of the people complimenting me (the ones who think you’re awful may write a letter-to-the-editor, but at least they have the decency not to confront you publicly about it) were tuning into the broadcast because of my analysis. 

It’s the same with any game on TV.  I have heard of viewers mute a game because they can’t stand a certain announcer, but no one is watching or listening to a contest just because a certain person is doing play-by-play or color.  Yet, having a competent color commentator certainly enlightens the experience and makes watching the game much more entertaining and enjoyable.

Here’s what makes a good color analyst.  First of all, the person needs to be prepared.  Knowing how to pronounce the names of the players from both teams, researching the strengths and weaknesses of the participating teams, having the up-to-date statistics and being aware of injured players and whether they’ll play or not.

Then, a thorough understanding of the game and its strategies is essential, as is a knowledge of the rules.  Being able to explain what happened - in a language even casual fans can comprehend (without feeling you’re “talking down” to them) - and even to predict what will happen - but through the use of reasoning and not just what the guy at the end of the bar is saying because he heard somebody in a studio show say it. 

The upper tier guys are also quick on their feet (or whatever part of their body is grounding them), so they can interject a quip, whether it comes from playing off their partner, a graphic, a promo or camera shot.  And the absolute best have a voice easy on the ears and speak English the way it’s taught in school.  Slang is OK and there are even some highly regarded commentators who will say things like, “They shoulda went for it.”  An occasional grammatical error can be oevrlooked, but butchering the English language will doom the career of even the most popular former athlete.

The reason for this blog is I was in complete awe of Gary Danielson’s performance during the Alabama-LSU game.  He plays off of partner Verne Lundquist (a perfect straight man) extremely well and he had obviously done his homework.  When LSU’s talented cornerback Patrick Peterson was out of the game due to cramping, Danielson noted, “Alabama’s got Julius Jones matched up on a safety, which is much different than a corner.  Look for them to take advantage of that.”  73 yards later, Peterson was in the end zone with what proved to be the winning points.  The replay showed his comments that 1) safeties give more (meaning too much) cushion and 2) they don’t open field tackle as well as corners were spot on.

At halftime, he correctly pointed out the Tide was relying too heavily on the pass and needed to get Heisman Trophy candidate Mark Ingram more carries.  The Crimson came out on the first possession and did just that, resulting in a ‘Bama TD.  Later, on a poorly thrown pass by QB Greg McElroy, a UA offensive lineman (who, we were informed carried a 4.0 GPA) turned around and seemed to be questioning the accuracy of his quarterback.  Danielson, realizing that the best humor is of the self-deprecating kind, told a similar story about a throw he made during his career and one of his “O” linemen saying to him, “What was that, GD?”

On a 4th & goal, the Tide broke the huddle with 12 twelve players.  The cameras showed Alabama’s McElroy, Jones and coach Nick Saban all were frantically trying to call time out.  Danielson interjected, once again correctly that the rules stated that in that particular situation, the offending team could not be bailed out by taking time out.

“GD” also observed when LSU scored a go-ahead touchdown, making the score 15-10 that it was too early to go for a two-point conversion because, failing to score, two field goals would beat them.  The Tigers did and their pass was incomplete.  The next possession, ‘Bama kicked a field goal and after scoring a TD - since the score was 19-13 -went for two themselves and were successful.  A field goal in the fourth quarter put the game out of reach, giving the Tide a nine point lead.  Had LSU kicked the PAT, the score would have been 16-10, meaning when UA scored their TD, the score would have been 19-16 and they would have gone for one.  Thus, the late FG would have made the score 26-19, putting the Tigers behind by only seven, still having a chance.

There are many great color commentators (mainly because there are so many televised games that there are about a zillion color guys) and, for my money, Gary Danielson ranks up there with the best.  Those I think are, or were, outstanding are John Madden & Pat Summeral, Hubie Brown & Jeff Van Gundy and Joe Morgan & Joe Garagiola.  Each of them subscribes to Samuel Johnson’s theory:

“Knowledge is of two kinds.  We know a subject ourselves, or we know where we can find information on it.”�

And he’s continuing to do it.  To think, everyone thought brother Jeff was the family’s coaching whiz.  (Actually, the true coach guru in the Van Gundy family is father, Bill - and I’m sure either of the two boys would attest to that).

Let’s break down this Stan Van Gundy character.  I’ve known his brother, Jeff, a good deal longer.  While we happen to be talking about the Van Gundy’s (in reality, I was the only one who was talking about them, but let’s say it was a team effort), it’s nearly indisputable, and I readily admit to being completely biased, that Jeff is setting the standards for color commentators.  In my mind, Jeff and Hubie Brown (another prejudicial vote on my part because I have a connection with Hubie, albeit it a stretch) are on islands by themselves when it comes to analyzing a game as it happens, all the while entertaining the viewing and listening audience while doing it.  If the island took a census, though, it also might claim Doug Collins as a resident.

Back to Stan, who by no means is the poster boy of what we thought an NBA coach would look like.  It’s relatively apparent he never played in the League and I’m not sure it would register as much of a shock if we were to find out he never played in any league (of course, he played for his father @ SUNY-Brockport).  With all the movements throughout the years, we’ve heard claims from groups such as the NAACP that a black worker has to do the work twice as well as that of a non-minority in order to merely maintain his employment.  Similarly for women, so say organizations such as NOW.

That might be true, probably is.  And in some cases, “twice as good” might be a rather conservative estimate.  Yet, if someone believes those opinions to be valid (and, while no one may really know the exact numbers, I would agree in the concept), trying to crack into such as a glory type club as the NBA, without having gone through the actual wars, . . . that’s going to be some hill to climb.  The numbers are much more skewed for coaches in the NBA, who did not play in the League.

So, his basketball career wasn’t the deciding factor in having him wind up in the professional ranks.  Based on what I’ve encountered, heard (from both coaches and players) and observed, success in the NBA comes from one thing more than any other factor.  And that trait is the ability to gain the players’ trust - and you can’t be phony about it.  That might get you through a year or two, but then somethin’s gotta give.

At one of the annual self-improvement clinics we used to hold for “our mastermind group,” (see my blog on 8/7/09) I remember hearing Stan’s brother, Jeff (when he was an assistant coach with the New York Knicks), telling us, “The best way to gain the players’ trust is to have them see you sweat right along with them.”  That was why when Jeff had a individual improvement session with one of their players, say, Patrick Ewing, he never got some kid to shag the balls for them.  He told me Patrick never said anything to him about it, but Jeff, himself, felt more comfortable by doing it that way, and, wouldn’t you know it, it wound up really gaining the trust of others because that was how he treated every player on the squad.  If specific drills or such were designed for “bigs”, then he might make adjustments, not because of “prima donna-ing,” but because that person needed a modification of some sort.  And it’s the same way for Stan.

Something else you’ll notice about SVG.  Watch how often the Magic score when they have possession of the ball, out of bounds, after a time out - independent of where the ball is inbounded.  Check on the subtle defensive changes, e.g. they were doubling the post after his first dribble, but changed to an immediate trap just to throw off the ballhandler’s sense of rhythm. 

Stan Van Gundy belongs in the NBA - and not just the league.  One more win and he’ll be where he deserves.  I’ve heard that Stan Van Gundy has a lookalike - some porno star.  Not being a charter member in the porn industry, I wouldn’t know.  It’s just that when people are expecting to see someone who looks the part of an NBA coach, but is far from it, he tends to be treated much more critically. 

Although not nearly in the same category, I imagine Stan Van Gundy agrees whole-heartedly with Martin Luther King’s statement:

“It may be true that the law cannot make man love me, but it can keep him from lynching me, and I think that’s pretty important.”

Much was made of the Magic and the strategy employed (or, rather not employed) by coach Stan Van Gundy after Game 5 of the Boston-Orlando series   The criticism was that down the stretch, his super(man)star, Dwight Howard, needed to get more plays run for him, or at least, have the offense run through him.  The fact he makes about half his free throws could lead to a Hack-a-Dwight philosophy, so there is merit to it.  What this “feed the big fella” philosophy would accomplish for Howard is more shot opportunities, or in today’s parlance: more touches. 

The analysts, presumably in an effort to create more of a mystique about how sophisticated a game basketball is, when in reality, it’s relatively simple, i.e. put the ball in the basket and keep your opponent from putting it in his (or hers), have expanded the dictionary of basketball terms.  I’m not sure why someone felt this was necessary.  Maybe it started when Hubie Brown, lecturing at a clinic in the South in the late ’70’s, spoke about “sticking the J.”  I was actually at this particular clinic, in which Hubie was interrupted by a coach in attendance who asked the question, “What’s a ‘J’?”

It was kind of funny at that time, not only seeing Hubie try, although not too hard, to conceal a smirk at the question (”How the f… can you coach basketball & not know what a ‘J’ is?” would have been Hubie’s response, prior to his somewhat mellowing out since he began a new career on live national TV!)  I have to admit the guys in my group felt bad for the coach who asked the question, but felt relieved - although not as relieved as the coach would have been, had Hubie answered with the response we anticipated.

Players in this era have so many terms running through their heads, the only two groups that can be effective are the true thinkers and the true players, i.e. the non-thinkers.  To understand this concept, you’d have to buy into Jerry Tarkanian’s mantra, “The more a player thinks, the slower his feet get.”  Well, the game today has certainly changed, but not as much as the “lingo” has. 

For example, players now “score the ball.”  Maybe I’m from the old school, but my question is, “What the hell else can you score?”  I mean, have you ever heard, “Manny is having a tough time scoring the ball tonight, but he’s been on fire finding the bottom of the net with several pairs of socks, a few rolls of athletic tape and three Gatorades that were left lying around.”

Today’s players don’t dribble the ball exceptioally well, they have “great handles.”  I thought for a minute I might be able to make a comeback because my wife keeps telling me I have great handles, but it turns out anybody can get those - if you have enough discipline to overeat on a daily basis.  

To use dribbling to “score the ball,”  players used to be very good at driving.  Today, the scouting report will tell the guys to play #5 as a driver because he can really “deck it.”  The last time I saw one of my friends deck it, was when some guy insulted his girlfriend at a bar.  “Deck it” was the phrase used, but “it” was the guy who unwisely opened his mouth about my buddy’s girl.

Also, guys who used to be great shooters are now considered wet.  When a shot goes up, the coach doesn’t yell to, “rebound” but to “board it.”  Playmakers don’t get assist on a play, they drop dimes.  The more dimes you have, the more guys want to play with you - especially the wet guys.  Same story in the inner city - people wanted to hang with the guy who had the most dimes, but their goals were of a different variety.  When that guy got his picture taken, there was a better than even chance it was going to be of the front and side variety.

It’s a wonder sometimes how anyone understands anyone else.  No one is clear when they speak today.  That wasn’t the case, however, when Harry Truman was asked why he felt that Dwight Eisenhower was struggling when he switched careers from the army to politics.  Harry did his best “Give ‘em hell” answer to a question most politicians would have waxed poetic or sidestepped altogether.  Instead, Truman’s response was:

“Dwight Eisenhower wasn’t used to being criticized and he never did get it through his head that’s what politics is all about.  He was used to getting his ass kissed.”�

With college coaching salaries escalating to astronomical levels and professional coaches making the equivalent of the GNP’s of small (and even, not so small) countries, there are still people who truly coach “for the love of the game” and “to make a difference in kids’ lives.”  They’re called high school coaches.

What got me on this topic was an email I received from Kim (Campbell) Jibrail.  Readers of this blog who saw my 9/4/08 blog regarding my connection to Sarah Palin might also have seen the comment posted by Kim after she read it.  As I do with all comments (positive or negative - I’ve been lucky so far in that the pluses have far outweighed the minuses), I responded to her quote with an email.  She and I have corresponded since and part of her last email dealt with how she and her teammates felt about their high school coach, the alte Davy J. Hobson.  What follows is the portion of that email in which Kim expresses her feelings for her late coach:

I would like to pay tribute somehow to the late coach/minister Davy J Hobson.  He shares in the glory of Sarah. He and his wife,” Mart” were two of the lovliest people you could ever know.  Of course, Mart still is. . .as she still resides in George West, Tx.  I actually gave her a call.  She has kept up with Chuck and Sarah Heath (Palin) for the past 27 years!  She actually knew there was a longshot chance of the impending Vice Presidential selection.  I told her that I found a blog online (yours) because I had feverishly searched for the connection to Sarah.  Mart was overwhelmed with joy.  Can you ask your friends if they knew Coach Hobson??  He took us to state also!  He was the most amazing man.  Was also a minister.  And definitely a “character”!  He put my small town on the map with our first ever state championship in 1975 Girls Basketball!  We “rocked” from that year on!!  He encouraged us to take a John Wooden course, etc. Basically, he taught me to BELIEVE. I loved that man!  He was one of my first powerful mentors!  I know for a fact that the “honorary Texan” in Sarah is attributed to this man as well.                                                                                                                           Thanks Jack.  This has been a Godsend to converse with you!  Blessings, my friend. Kim 

Her obvious admiration for her high school coach got me thinking to my early days in college when kids from all over (in the case of our small college, “all over” meant all over New Jersey) and how they want to one-up each other with stories of their high school and especially its athletics accomplishments.

Such was the case with me and my friends when the subject got around to who qualified as the “best coach ever.”  I bragged about my football coach, the late Jay Dakelman, who won over 90% of the games he coached in a career spanning 4 different decades at Highland Park High School.  During my three years of varsity football, we lost a total of two games.

One of my friends spoke of a coach with an incredibly glossy record, who also happened to be his uncle, a guy named Ken Sonofsky, a legendary North Jersey football coach whose won-loss record was similar to Jay’s.  Our other two friends would say our coaches couldn’t compare to theirs (in their case, basketball coaches).  It didn’t matter that none of us had any kind of comparison statistics, nor had we even met the other coaches whose names were brought up - we were kids, trying to win an argument.  Be proud and, when it looks like the guy might be making a good point, drown him out.  Kind of like being a guest on one of Nancy Grace’s shows.

The first of the two basketball players went on and on about his coach at Passaic High, a gentleman named Dick Tarrant.  The same Dick Tarrant who never wanted to be part of the college acene, but became an assistant to help one of his former players who was named head coach at the University of Richmond.  Later, when his former pupil resigned just prior to the season, Dick was given the head coaching job on an interim basis.  That tag was removed when it was evident this coach was as good as my college buddy claimed. Fans might remember the “Spider” teams Dick had at UR, a couple of which, in the NCAA Tournament, beat Syracuse one year and Indiana another, the former a game where a #15 seed knocked off a #2.

Our fourth associate wouldn’t listen to any of these arguments, so assured was he that his coach was the best.  In fact, prior to his college games, our companion would pay a visit to his high school coach (Fair Lawn HS) just to get “fired up” for the evening’s game.  That coach’s name was Hubie Brown.  Although I never played for, or even watched any of the other guys coach (with the exception of Hubie when he was the Hawks and Grizzlies head man), I’d still put Jay Dakelman up there with any of the elites when it came to being ahead of his time (from a strategy perspective) and possessing an ability to get kids “ready to play.”  He broke out all the motivational material.  Incidentally, to see how far he’d go (and I’m sure other such “competitors as well), get a copy of my book, Life’s A Joke, and read the first story in chapter nine. 

I’m sure my friends still feel that way about their coaches and, after reading what Kim Jibrail wrote about Davy Hobson, he must have been on an identical level.  I remember Muhammed Ali once saying something about the necessity of a person performing this role (in his career, it was Angelo Dundee).  The Champ’s quote was:

 “The greatest lesson I learned from Angelo Dundee was you need to have someone pushing you and making you do things you don’t think you can do.”

�

With this being the “information age,” not only are results of contests reported to fans around the world, but anything else of interest, intrigue or embarrassment to anyone involved is “news of note.”  Any kind of illegal (those involving drugs and weapons ranking the highest) or immoral (extramarital affairs being the spiciest) acts diminish the aura of the revered high profile athlete or coach (or owner for that matter).  As my late mentor, John Savage, was fond of saying, whatever falls under the realm of “Strengthen the weak by weakening the strong” (see 4/30/07 blog) makes the average guy’s day.  He gets to think, “Maybe I don’t have all he (or she) does, but I’m a better person because I don’t conduct myself in such a reprehensible manner.”  More and more doctors are seeing patients for throwing out their shoulders patting themselves on the back. 

What a professional player or coach does during his or her own time, as long as it has nothing to do with their performance and isn’t in disregard of the law, ought to be their own business, e.g. what happens behind closed doors should be personal.  One trait, however, that I feel differently about regarding what professionals in athletic arena do is in the way they treat others with whom they work.

It’s widely known that a great many of highly skilled people in the world of professional athletics are, when it comes to dealing with their peers or those they coach (or who coach them), less than decent (using the lowest common denominator) people to be around.  Many of their behavioral shortcomings have been chronicled. 

As far as players go, Ty Cobb is probably as despicable human being who ever played a professional sport, his fortune lying in the fact that he played well before the internet.  Bobby Layne wasn’t a joy to have to deal with as a teammate but, once again, the real story isn’t known because he was a pre-internet athlete as well.  It could very well be that his guys loved him, respected him and longed for his antics during games, … or not.

Two basketball players who make the short list of people who never, as Hubie Brown once lectured, “learned how to say hello until it was time to say goodbye,” were Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and Rick Barry (see second blog from 6/10/08).  A baseball player seemingly heading in this same direction is Barry Bonds.

As one might expect, coaches fall into this category, too.  They must lead a group and, often, the dictatorial method is the one that’s chosen.  In fact, the quote, “My way or the highway” is believed to have come from a coach.  In days gone by, this was much more common and, probably, much more effective. 

I’ve said on numerous occasions that when I was growing up, if I ever went home and told my father the coach yelled at me, my father would most likely have hit me - for upsetting the coach.  Nowadays, if that scenario occurred, the father’s first move would be to reach for the phone and call his lawyer.  Authority figures were put on a pedestal in the ’50s, ’60s and ’70s.  Today, it’s about an individual’s rights.  Imagine a player describing (and laughing about it) his coach’s style as “He treats us all the same - like dogs,” as was said about the legendary Vince Lombardi.

Yet, there still exist Lombardi-like leaders in this era.  Bill Parcells and Nick Saban are two who come to mind.  There’s certainly no questioning each’s competence as coaches who win (big) and, undoubtedly there are former or current players of theirs who will publicly praise them for all they did to develop character and make them the men they are today.  There are (probably) significantly more (one of whom could be the offensive lineman from the Dolphins who broke down and cried after being on the receiving end of one of Saban’s tirades) who would speak only on a condition of anonimity if asked to comment on their feelings for their former coaches.  Imagine crying - and having it shown time and time again (thanks once more to the internet age) as a football player.  And Tom Hanks thought it was a sin for a player to cry in baseball - and a woman at that!

This type of behavior brings to mind an old movie which starred Billy Crystal, entitled Mr. Saturday Night.  In it, Crystal plays a stand up comic who is enormously successful, but a rotten SOB off the stage.  During a scene at the end of the move, his brother, who also wanted to be a comedian, but settled on being his brother’s manager, made a comment about something that wasn’t to his liking.  This set off the “star” who lit into his sibling with a monologue that went something like, “What, you have the nerve to complain?  Let me tell you something.  Whatever you are, you are because I made you.  You didn’t have the courage to do what I do and I felt sorry for you, so I let you hang around.  You owe me everything.  Whatever you have is because of me.” 

The brother subserviently listened to the put-down, and then turned to him and said (as I imagine all of the teammates or team members of the above-mentioned athletes/coaches might say):

“Yeah, but you could have been nicer.”

   ¼/p>

After Mike D’Antoni, Larry Brown, Rick Carlisle, Terry Porter and Scott Skiles got hired as NBA head coaches, there were grumblings about about the “good ol’ boy network” and how teams continue to hire “re-treads.”  On the filp side, Eric Spoelstra, Vinny Del Negro and Michael Curry just got selected to run their first ever ball club, hitting the financial lottery in the process, prompting many (probably the same complainers above) to point out that they have no experience.

Every time jobs open, there are certain names that pop up, yet these guys never seem to get the least bit of consideration, despite being (NBA) household names.  One is Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, another is Rick Barry and a third who has recently joined the mix is Patrick Ewing.  Since NBA franchises would hire Hannibal Lechter to coach their teams if they thought he could produce a championship, it’s a wonder to many why these three icons, all of whom have expressed desire to lead a team, have been continually passed over.

In Ewing’s case, NBA insiders have told me on more than one occasion that Patrick’s off the court behavior has been as impossible to defend as he was when he got the ball three feet from the basket.  In fact, there was a time when the woman he was married to during his playing days with the Knicks was planning to write a tell-all book and, in fact, it was headed - or even was sent - to the publisher.  Although I don’t recall the book ever seeing the light of day, Ewing’s reputation has been well-known enough for teams to shy away from placing him in the uiltimate leadership position.

The other two pariahs, Jabbar and Barry, are a simple case of “people have long memories.”  Rick, as most of us remember, never committed a foul (according to him) and Kareem spurned what most people considered normal social behavior during his playing days, prefering to be more or less a reclusive - and not a particularly pleasant one at that.

When I was coaching in college, I heard Hubie Brown, who, I believe, at the time was an assistant coach for the Milwaukee Bucks give a lecture to a group of high school “all-stars.”  He spoke of a kid (by far the best player on the team), but someone who was intentionally uncoachable - and not only uncoachable, but someone who actually went out of his way to make the coach’s life miserable.  Near the end of his senior season, the college coaches weren’t coming around like the youngster was assured they would.  When he finally realized the error of his ways, his attitude turned 180 degrees, he apologized profusely to the coach and begged him for help.  However, the coach had had enough, the kid had been a pain in the butt the whole year.  Yet, now he decided, when it was convenient for him, to make up for a whole season’s (career’s) worth of misery he caused.   Right or wrong, the coach basically told him to get lost.  The title of Hubie’s speech was what Ewing, Jabbar and Barry needed to understand a long time ago:

“You need to learn how to say hello before it’s time to say goodbye.” �