Bird Watching (26 page)

That’s why I got so frustrated with him in our playoff series against New York. He was playing great, and that’s when he started doing that shimmy thing, and I just wanted to deck him. It was Game 3 of the Eastern Conference semifinals, and Mark had just caused a turnover, and then he went into this shimmy, a real showboat move where he gyrates up the court dribbling the ball. He was doing it at the Knicks bench, and even though we were up by 13 points I knew right away it was a mistake. I knew New York was a good defensive team, and I knew they were gonna make a run. They did, and they won the game. The next morning we had a breakfast meeting. I just laid it on the line to him. I felt he had put us in a position to lose that game, and I told him that. He didn’t say anything, because he already knew. I wanted Mark to feel bad, because I wanted him to make it up to his team.

He did too. In Game 5 of that series, a game we needed to win to close out the Knicks and play the Bulls in the Conference Finals, Mark Jackson played unbelievably. He recorded the first playoff triple-double in Pacers history, and it was because of him that we won the game.

Not long after that I asked him, “Do you want to be remembered by doing that shake, or do you want to be remembered as the guy that came into New York and knocked off the Knicks and got a triple-double against them?” To a guy like Mark, who saved his career last season, he saw the writing on the wall.

After he got that triple-double, I made sure we got him a ball and painted it up real nice for him. We did the same thing whenever a rookie scored his first two points in a regular-season game. I think that’s something every pro player should remember. The Celtics never really did that. They’d have balls for the major things, like 10,000 points or something. I still have some of mine. I know how important stuff like that can be to players, to be recognized.

The only ball I ever really wanted was in 1986, because we won that championship by beating Bill Fitch and his Houston team, and to me that really meant something. When the game ended, our backup center, Greg Kite, grabbed the ball, because he was on the court and the closest one to it. After the game I asked him for it, but he wouldn’t give it to me. I was named the MVP of the playoffs, and I won a car for it, and I was thinking about trading Kite the car I won for the ball. But the more I thought about it, the more I felt Greg should have just given it to me outright. I had just finished playing a great series, and made sure he was going to have a ring. Greg knew how much I wanted to beat Bill Fitch, because I respected Fitch so much, and I feel he should have offered me that ball. I never told him, but that’s how I felt. But it doesn’t matter now. It’s done.

It did teach me to be smarter about these things. Before they closed Boston Garden, which I thought was the greatest place in the world to play basketball, they had a special ceremony to commemorate the building, and they invited all the old Celtics greats to come back. Bob Cousy was there, and Bill Russell, who hardly went to anything at that point, and John Havlicek, and K. C. and Sam Jones, and some others. Anyhow, we all got on the court, and each Celtics “legend” passed the ball up the floor, from one to another. I was at the far end, the last player in the chain, and I shot the layup. Then I grabbed that ball, and I didn’t let go until I was on the plane back home.

One of the things I loved most about being a Celtic was the tradition. I loved looking up there before the game, while the national anthem was playing, and seeing all those championship banners. So many unbelievable basketball players wore the Celtics uniform, and it was important to me that I spend my entire career there.

I would love to help the Pacers create their own kind of tradition. They have some from the days they were in the ABA, but it would be awesome if our team could bring them a title and start something. I’ll tell you one thing: I don’t want to be the one that trades Mark Jackson or Reggie Miller. They deserve to finish out their careers in Indiana. If the Pacers wanted to do that, I’d have to leave.

I had been watching Reggie Miller play for years, and I knew he was the guy that would make or break this team on the court. When I got the job, there was some talk in Indianapolis that he might react negatively to me, because I would be taking attention away from him. He had always been the show in Indiana—it’s part of his game. I knew a lot would be said, but I also knew Reggie wouldn’t let me down. If he was upset, or put off, about the hoopla over me coming here, he certainly never let on. And once he got to know me, he could tell pretty quickly I don’t care about that stuff.

The thing about Reggie is he’s really a scorer more than a shooter. Yet he hits really big shots, and he’s got range. How many other guys do you know in the league who can take one or two dribbles and throw it up from 25 feet or longer? What I like best about him is he thrives on the pressure of the big shot. He wants to be the guy to take it with everything on the line. Sometimes he demands it. Some people are put off by all the trash-talking Reggie does, but it’s all a game. It’s his way of getting inside the opponent’s head, and quite often it works.

What surprised me most about Reggie is that he’s a good defensive player. He’s so much better than I thought he’d be. Reggie could be a great defensive player, but he wants to be a scorer. I keep telling him he can be both. It’s funny, really. Reggie knows a lot more about defense than he’ll let on. But I admire him, because he works his butt off every day. His work ethic is amazing, and not enough people give him credit for that. I can honestly say he’s been above and beyond what I thought he would be.

I remember one night during the playoffs I was trying to convince these guys they were good enough to beat the Bulls. I stood up there and pointed to Chris Mullin, and I said, “You’ve got a guy here who has played in some huge games. He’s never been to the Finals, but if you see him open, you know he’s going to pop some down for us, because he wants so badly to get there. And look at Mark Jackson, have you ever seen a guy compete as hard as him? He doesn’t have all the ability in the world. I didn’t have all the ability in the world, but it doesn’t matter if you compete. And look at Reggie Miller over there. He’s probably the greatest shot maker in the game, in the whole history of the NBA. Anytime, this guy will stick a knife in your heart.” I stopped and looked at the guys, and they were hanging on every word. Later, a couple of the players said Reggie was really touched by what I had said. It meant a lot to him. I told the guys, “I wouldn’t say it unless I meant it.”

The guy I really felt sorry for in my first season was Rik Smits. He was having problems with the nerves in his feet, and he was in agony all season. I give him credit, because he played hurt an awful lot of nights. The littlest things, like stepping on a towel, could send pain just shooting through his feet. That’s how bad it was. By January, I was really concerned that he was going to have to retire. He was trying, but there’s only so much you can push yourself. Rik came to me and said, “I don’t know, Coach. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” I asked him if he’d be willing to see my friend Dan Dyrek, who had helped me so much with my back trouble. Rik was willing to try anything. He flew to Boston and spent a couple of days with Dan, who immediately began working on those feet. What he does is this technique called joint mobilization, which is a deep, usually painful massage that helps break up scar tissue and rejuvenate the joints and muscles and tendons in that area. Within a few visits, I could tell he was helping Rik. I knew we had no chance in the playoffs without Rik, so I was relieved that Dan had made some progress.

I hated to see Rik miss out, because he was so much a part of what we were doing. Rik Smits is like most of the guys on this team, one of the nicest people you’d ever want to be around. Truthfully? That’s not what you really want. You want guys who are nasty, who have an edge, that killer instinct. Rik can’t give us that, but he’s very capable of scoring points and getting rebounds. He’s proven that he’ll play hurt, and play through pain. There’s only so much one guy can do. I don’t have a problem with Smits.

Besides, it’s not like he was the only one who had trouble getting mean. Reggie is a great late-game shooter. I mean, he loves the pressure. I see how he’s progressed the last five years and I’m happy for him, because he’s a nice guy. But he’s not all that mean either.

Believe me, it matters. All you need to do is go back to the 1984 Finals, Celtics versus Lakers, when Kevin McHale clotheslined Kurt Rambis as he was heading in for a layup. The networks show a clip of it whenever they talk about “playoff intensity.” There’s no question in my mind that Kevin didn’t mean to do it, but after he did, it turned the whole series around. The Lakers never really liked physical contact, and we got them intimidated after that.

You need to find somebody who, if your opponent is coming in for a layup, every once in a while is willing to knock him down. That’s just the way this league is. Guys don’t like to be hit. You get a couple of them on the ground and it makes a difference, especially if you’re in the game. Hey, teams used to beat on me all the time. That’s why I had so many surgeries.

The Pistons were very physical. The Lakers, after 1984 or 1985, were willing to hit people. Philadelphia’s teams, back when we were battling them, were always tough. They gave you a shot every once in a while. But Detroit was definitely the best. Rick Mahorn, Bill Laimbeer, and those guys, they took you right out of the game.

We had a pretty heated rivalry with them. They were very limited, and so they had to do what they had to do. The only guy I really didn’t like from that bunch was Laimbeer. I thought he was a cheap-shot artist. There’s a difference between knocking somebody down, and letting him know, but Laimbeer was the kind of guy who got his shots in after the whistle blew. He’d be standing there with the ball in the air, and the whistle having already been blown, and he would take a crack at your knees or your back. Listen, nobody played any harder and hit people more than me. I hit people all the time. That’s part of it. But I never tried to hurt a guy. All you need to know about Laimbeer is what Robert Parish did to him during the 1987 playoffs. It takes a whole lot to get Parish riled up about anything, but he was sick and tired of Laimbeer nailing him with those sneaky cheap shots, so during the course of Game 5 of the Eastern Conference Finals, he just leveled Laimbeer under the basket. At the time the officials didn’t call anything, because they knew all about Laim-beer too, but then the Pistons took the tape to the league, and there was Robert pummeling Laimbeer on tape, so they suspended him for Game 6 of our series. It was the first time in the history of the postseason that anyone had been suspended like that. That’s what I mean about Detroit taking you out of your game. We lost that game because we didn’t have our center. We came back and beat them in Game 7 at Boston Garden, but it never should have come to that.

None of us made any secret about how we felt about Laimbeer. I remember one season, I got on the team bus and the writers were talking about the All-Star team, which had just been announced. I turned to one of them and said, “Did Laimbeer make it?” He said, “No, not this year.” I said, “Good. Now I won’t have to worry about him getting on the team bus and saying, ‘Good morning, Larry,’ and me saying, ‘Screw you, Bill.’”

Chris Mullin, on the other hand, was a guy I would have loved to play with. He’s one of those guys who understands the game. You can tell by the way he passes the ball, and is always in the right spot for the rebound, and by the way he drills his shots. I remember being impressed by the way he handled himself on the Dream Team. We never really had any serious practices, but Chris was always working on something anyway. He was a real pro, just working and working.

I was really excited when we were able to trade for him. We knew Chris was getting older. He was thirty-four years old when we traded for him. But the one thing about Chris was that he had had so many freak injuries that he hadn’t played a lot of minutes over the past couple of years, so we were thinking his legs would be fresh. Chris went through some tough stretches earlier in the season with us. We were asking an All-Star player to become a type of role-player on this team, and it took Mully a while to adjust to that. But he’s a team guy, all about winning. I wish we could have played together in our prime.

What happened was that Mully got to where he was sort of standing around out there, not being aggressive. One thing Chris Mullin needs to be is aggressive on the offensive end, or you might as well not have him out there. He is one of the best shooters I’ve ever seen. I’ve been around a lot of great ones, and he’s right there. We needed him to be consistent for us, so we could keep defenses honest. The season before, when the Pacers didn’t have Mully, teams would double Reggie on the wing and Rik in the post, and there was no outside threat to make them pay for that.

That’s one of the reasons I tried to get these guys in the mentality of looking for their shots. Take the Davises, Dale and Antonio (who, by the way, are not related). We would definitely like to have more scoring from each one of those guys, but we’re limited in where we get our baskets. Some games we look at our team and we wonder where the scoring is coming from, but somehow we manage to fight through it and get enough points to win.

Dale has always thought his role is as a defensive player who will get you rebounds. I’d like to see him do more. I think he has the skills to be a low post threat, but he has to believe he can do that, and I don’t think it comes as second nature to him the way it does other players.

Dale is a real good guy. You love having someone like him. My guess is basketball isn’t the most important thing in the world to him. He’ll do everything you’ll ask him to do. He just won’t do more. You look at that body, pure muscle, and you wonder about the possibilities. What I said to him at the beginning of the season was, “Dale, if you get yourself in perfect shape, where you can run, you’re going to pick up rebounds, and you’re going to get fouled, or you’re going to get easy baskets. So just run. I’ll get you the ball, and when we throw it down to you I want you to take it right at them.” But he just never did, until the end of the year. He had some spurts in the playoffs where he was really kicking butt. If we could ever get him to do it all season long, look out.