One of the other decisions I made, and I insisted on it with Donnie, is we don’t let outsiders fly on our plane. We don’t take businesspeople, sponsors, or any of that stuff. Donnie understands and agrees that’s how it should be. As far as wives and families go, if we’re on a long trip and they want to see their families out there, that’s great. I’m all for it. I know each team handles that differently. The Celtics never liked our wives traveling with us, but I made sure Dinah always used to come out for the Finals.
Really, what it’s all about is being reasonable. I want these guys to be comfortable. Every once in a while the guys will come to me and ask something. If it’s within the realm of the team and what we’re trying to do, I don’t have a problem with it. One time Reggie had a restaurant endorsement he needed to do, and he asked if he could take a limo to shoot it when we landed after a trip. I said, “Fine, no big deal.” But if we got off our plane one night and there were a couple of limos sitting there waiting, and my guys jumped in and tooled off without asking me, that would be completely different.
Before I got to the Pacers, the team never had a Christmas party. I wanted one that included everyone, not just the players. I wanted their wives there, and their kids there. I wanted the secretaries, and all the people in the office, but it didn’t come off the way I wanted. The next one, I promised everyone, would be better, because I would have time to plan it out.
The other thing I made sure we had was a break-up dinner. I couldn’t believe the Pacers never had one. To me, the break-up dinner is the ultimate. It’s the last time you’re going to see anybody, maybe ever, because people retire, or get traded in the off season, or they sign somewhere else. I know it’s hard for the players at first. Whenever we had one in Boston, and we had just lost, you didn’t really feel like going. But once we all got there, it was a chance to be together one last time. I told my guys after we lost to Chicago, “I know we just lost, and it’s tough to come here, but I think you’ll enjoy it more than you think.” My feeling was, at least these guys would know we cared about them. The other thing was, I told them I felt it was important for everyone to show up.
The league goes by so fast, your careers are here and gone before you know it. Take Kevin McHale—I practically lived with that guy for twelve years, and all of a sudden I never see him anymore. At the time you are playing, it seems like a million other things are more important. But then your career is over and there’s nothing to do. You go from this pace of driving to practice and rushing to airports and getting treatment to … nothing. At that point, you’d do anything to go to dinner with all your teammates.
Even though we didn’t win the championship, I felt good about our team chemistry and my relationship with the guys. I felt as though the respect was there. On the day I won the Coach of the Year award, the Pacers held a press conference. I was unhappy about the whole thing, because I didn’t think I deserved to win. So I walk in there, and I’m uncomfortable about being up there anyway, then all of a sudden someone is asking me a question about Mark Jackson and his shimmy in the playoffs against New York. I look over, and it’s Travis Best. All my players were sitting there at the press conference. I always thought we were a different kind of team, but that’s when I knew for sure. I had said from the beginning, “When someone on this team wins something, I expect everybody to be there, including the coaches.” If Reggie had won something, we would have all been there. So I was happy to see them, even though I was kind of embarrassed.
There’s nothing better than being part of a team. Especially when you win.
On the Long Season
I
t’s one thing to run guys up and down and get their conditioning just the way you want. It’s another thing to get them ready to play an 82-game NBA schedule. I felt confident about getting them ready. I know the game inside out and I know how the league works, and although I had never coached before at any level, I felt my instincts would help me in crucial situations. As for the things I wasn’t sure about, that’s why I had Dick and Rick.
We had a strong exhibition season. I played almost every guy on our roster, because I wanted to look at everyone in a game situation. My biggest concern coming out of preseason was that we were averaging around 21, 22 turnovers a game. That was too many. I could tell the team was in decent shape, but they weren’t playing that well yet. You’d like to go into your first game with a little more than that, but that’s what we had. I wasn’t that worried about it, because I knew that in time everything would come together. I was willing to be patient, or at least I thought I was willing. And I loved the way we were playing defense and trapping the pick and roll.
My first real game as the head coach of the Pacers was against New Jersey, in the Meadowlands. I was all excited about the game. I didn’t really have a routine at that point, and I didn’t know what to do with myself before the game. I just followed Dick and Rick around. I went out, watched the guys shoot, then looked at the clock for like the fourth time. The tip-off was delayed, because the Nets had all these season-opening ceremonies, and I remember standing back there just waiting and waiting, and thinking, “Come on, let’s just play!” That’s how I was as a player too. Let’s get going. The waiting around used to kill me.
We went out and played great. Absolutely fantastic. We were up 14 or 15 points in the third quarter. We were running, and we were pushing the ball. I remember thinking to myself, “This is awesome. What a great feeling to know that all this stuff we’ve taught them actually works.” Then all of a sudden we couldn’t do anything. I started to get a little frustrated, because of course I wanted to win the game. New Jersey’s best player, Jayson Williams, started attacking the boards—I think he had 18 offensive rebounds—and we ended up losing. My first game ever, and I walked off feeling like we should have won it. (I can tell you now that’s how you feel after almost every loss, but I didn’t know that then.) Reggie had a big night. He had 35 points, and I said to myself, “Man, Reggie gets thirty-five, and we still get beat. That’s not good.” So that’s when I started stressing the need to spread out the scoring among everyone.
When I took this job, I promised my players I wouldn’t holler or scream at them. I don’t think it’s a good way to communicate with your players. I hated it when my coaches did it, and I was determined not to lose my cool like that. But there were a couple of times when I needed to get through to these guys, even if it meant raising my voice. In fact, probably my worst outburst of the season was in the first couple of weeks.
It was only the fourth game of the season, and we lost a game to Charlotte, in Charlotte. I was so disappointed I could hardly talk, because it looked to me like my guys could have taken over that game anytime they wanted, and they were out there just going through the motions. They weren’t aggressive, and they sure as hell didn’t look like a team that was trying to win. After we lost that game, our record was 2–4. It wasn’t the kind of start anyone had hoped for, and the thing that was frustrating about it was we were blowing leads in the fourth quarter—the one thing I wanted us to avoid. People were already starting to call us chokers. Charlotte scored three straight layups on us in the final minutes, and we didn’t do anything about it. I wasn’t about to panic, but I sure wasn’t happy either. I remember Rik had two free throws that would have tied it late in the game. He goes up to the line and he misses both of them. I was just mad. After the game, I said, “I just want to tell you guys something. I’m disappointed in what happened out there tonight. You guys didn’t give me the effort we needed. Charlotte has a chance to win our division, and they didn’t want to win tonight. Did they do anything out there that was so spectacular that should have allowed them to beat us? It looked like three layups to me. How do we allow that to happen?” Then I said, “Rik, what do you think when you go to the free throw line? Do you think you’re going to miss them, or make them?” He said, “I think I’m going to make them.” So I said, “Well, then why don’t you make the damn things?” Rik is sensitive. I’ve got to be careful how far I go with him. On that night, I gave it to all of them. I didn’t get personal. I just stuck to the facts of the game, and those were bad enough.
After we lost to Charlotte, my old teammate Dave Cowens, who was coaching the Hornets, said our problem was we were running the same stuff over and over, and people were figuring it out. People were surprised. They were wondering where that criticism came from, but I knew. Before the season started, I said David Wesley, who Charlotte spent a lot of money on to sign as a free agent, wasn’t a true point guard. He isn’t either. But that must have ticked Dave Cowens off. Wesley played for the Celtics before he went to Charlotte. I saw him a fair amount, and I thought he was a little too offensive-minded to be a really good point. Anyway, I didn’t really care what Cowens said. I was more concerned with what I was going to tell my guys.
I knew we had to be smarter with our offensive possessions. I knew if we could spread the court and get guys to start moving toward the ball, we’d be fine. I had a lot of faith in these guys, even though I got upset from time to time. I know people in Indiana were feeling let down. There was so much excitement when we started the season, and before you knew it we were 2–5. Dick Harter reminded me that it takes time when you have a new coaching staff and a new system. I knew he was right, but I didn’t like how we kept blowing leads in the fourth quarter. And the one thing I wasn’t going to stand for was less than a total effort.
There was one other game that really got me upset. It was in December, and we were just finishing up a road trip. We had beaten Minnesota, Denver, and Phoenix, and we came really close to beating Utah in their place, which might be the toughest place to win in the league, but we got a couple of bad calls down the stretch that cost us the game. The game with the Jazz was tight all the way through, and around the middle of the third quarter Reggie picks up two technicals for arguing with the officials. That had been a real problem with Reggie. He spends too much time bickering with the refs, and it takes away from his concentration. I’m sitting there pulling my hair out, because I know we’re going to need him down to the wire, and now he’s gone. Then, with about seven minutes to go, Rik fouls out. All I kept telling the guys was, “C’mon, now. Don’t quit on me. I don’t care about Reggie right now. He quit on us tonight. But we’ve got to pull together and forget about the officials. We need everybody.” What really got me was we’re down by one, and Karl Malone gets a call he doesn’t like, and he kicks the ball up to the stands. Just pounded it up there. But the refs don’t call a T. They just stand there. I was sitting there thinking, “Oh, boy. We’re not going to get a break in this place.” We lost the game, but I told my guys how happy I was they stayed with me to the end. Then I told Reggie he let his teammates down.
So we’re 3–1 on the trip, and we’re finishing up in Portland. The one thing I told them before the game was, “Hey, this has been a long road trip, and when you play as well as we’ve played in our first four games, you might have a tendency to say, ‘Hey, let’s get home.’ Well, I don’t want to forget about this game. If we win it, this was one helluva road trip. If we lose, all the hard work we just did won’t hardly matter.” Well, sure enough, we go out for the first half, and before you know it we’re down by 20. I called a twenty-second time-out. I was furious. I looked at them for a long time, and then I said, “Just who the hell do you think you are kidding? You’re not kidding me. You guys have got this game packed in. That’s a bunch of crap. You aren’t even trying, and that’s a disgrace to this organization.” I was hot, and they knew it. So what do they do? After we break the huddle, Mark stops them and gathers them back together again. I couldn’t hear what he said, but he was gesturing to them and talking to them with real emotion. Next thing I know, they go out there and hustle their butts off, and they take the lead. We almost won that game, but Portland still had something left to fend us off. Rasheed Wallace got really hot, then J. R. Rider hit a three, and that was it. It bothers me a lot when these guys don’t give the effort. They know I’ve been there. They know I know all the tricks, so why even try it? After the game, I got right to the point. I told them, “You guys bailed on me tonight.” I went right down the line with each of them and told them how many minutes they played. I said, “Did I ask you to bust your butts for two solid hours tonight? No. Reggie, I asked you for about thirty, thirty-five minutes. Rik, all I needed was twenty-eight minutes.” I went like that right down to each of them. I said, “I don’t think it’s too much to ask you guys to bust your butts for less than forty minutes.” When I get mad, I get real mad, but it doesn’t happen very often.
I guess what it comes down to is, I pick my spots. We had a game with Minnesota where we were up 20, but then they came back on us and started hitting everything in sight: three-pointers, driving layups, you name it. They ended up with the ball, down two, and a chance to win. We pulled it out, but it was close. In that situation, though, it was a matter of Minnesota playing great in the second half. So you don’t rant and rave over a game like that. You do that too often and they stop listening.
I often wonder what it would be like if I had a young team. Rick and Dick tell me my demeanor would be completely different. Maybe they’re right. I know one thing: I’d drive them and push them. With my guys, I drove them really hard early, but once we got in the proper condition, these guys are veterans. They police themselves. It’s true that I haven’t had to deal with many young players with a so-called attitude. But I’m not afraid of that. In fact, I look forward to that challenge if it presents itself. Someone asked me once if I could ever coach Dennis Rodman. I don’t care how many different shades of green his hair is. If he plays hard and performs, he’ll always have a place on my team. The only crap I wouldn’t put up with is him showing up late for practice and games. That might be where we’d part company. Rodman and I have a lot of history, back from when we played each other during those Celtics-Pistons rivalries. When I first took the Pacers job, he came out in the papers and said I was overrated as a player, and I’ll be overrated as a coach. I loved it. There’s not enough of that in the league anymore. That’s how rivalries get started.