Kravitz: Rick Carlisle once a Pacers' castoff, now a champion
http://www.indystar.com/article/2011...IndyStar.com|p
http://www.indystar.com/article/2011...IndyStar.com|p
At one point or another in most of our lives, we get hosed by management. We get a raw deal, maybe from new managers who want to reinvent the wheel, or by long-time bosses who seek to cover their own mistakes, and their derriere, by scapegoating someone.
Which brings me to Rick Carlisle, NBA championship coach, who apparently wasn't quite good enough to make a go of it with the Indiana Pacers.
Carlisle unfairly took the fall for team president Larry Bird and a roster of misbehaving players after the 2006-07 season, and on Sunday night, there he was, standing on the podium with the NBA champion Dallas Mavericks, reveling in a moment he helped make happen.
Good for him. Good for everybody who has ever gotten the short end of the deal from management.
I am always disinclined to say "I told you so" -- it's self-aggrandizing and petty -- but in this case, I'm going to say it: I told you so.
In late April 2007, I wrote a series of columns saying Carlisle was a fall guy and a scapegoat, and this:
"Think about this: Has any head coach in any professional sport been forced to deal with more non-basketball-related nonsense these past three years?
"Soon enough, the ax will fall on Carlisle, leaving him with the option to take another coaching job, join the front office or take a sabbatical. After three years of coaching this eclectic group of humans, he deserves a year off. But my sense is he will end up coaching somewhere else and winning somewhere else."
Yep.
He did OK.
Isn't it amazing how much better a coach Carlisle became when he got away from Ron Artest, Stephen Jackson, Jermaine O'Neal, David Harrison, Jamaal Tinsley and the cast of loonies?
Isn't it amazing how much better a coach Carlisle became when his front office brought in free agents like Tyson Chandler instead of Sarunas Jasikevicius?
Carlisle didn't deserve a pink slip for his four years here; he deserved a Purple Heart.
Again, consider the madness that surrounded his tenure.
He had that great first season in 2003-04, leading the Pacers to a 61-21 record and an Eastern Conference finals appearance against Detroit.
That, though, wasn't his greatest coaching job. The next season brought The Brawl, and somehow -- with a decimated team, with guys coming in off the streets (remember Britton Johnsen?) and players like Fred Jones leading the way -- Carlisle not only got the Pacers to the playoffs, but won a first-round series against Doc Rivers and the Boston Celtics.
The next season, The Brawl continued to resonate in ways that made Carlisle's job next to impossible. The players who stepped up and performed well the previous year were relegated back to the bench, and most failed to accept their diminished roles. And, of course, there was Artest's wigged-out trade request, which forced the Pacers to drop and eventually trade him away. Still, that team made the playoffs with a 41-41 record.
Carlisle's fourth season was doomed before it even started. Training camp opened with the Club Rio affair, followed shortly thereafter by the 8 Seconds Saloon incident and a host of injuries. Now, there were people inside the organization who felt that Carlisle lost control of that team, that he kowtowed to O'Neal and lost the attention of his team as it limped to a 35-47 finish. And there were complaints about his personality, the way he could come across (unintentionally, it seemed to me) as cold, detached and arrogant.
The players didn't like what they viewed as a paint-by-numbers offense that finished last in the league in scoring that final year. They believed they were being shackled, which seems really funny in retrospect when you see how beautifully Dallas' offense runs with a professional point guard and big guys who can rebound.
Whatever Carlisle's culpability might have been, it paled in comparison with the mistakes the front office had made.
And yet, he was fired.
Foolishly.
What Carlisle did this season with the Mavericks ranks as one of the most impressive coaching jobs we've ever seen. He lost his No. 2 scorer, Caron Butler, in January, and later his backup big man, Brendan Haywood, who was in and out of the Finals lineup with a hip pointer.
During the series against Miami, Carlisle hit all the right buttons. He threw zones at the Heat, who couldn't have been more confused if the playbook was written in Mandarin Chinese. He put J.J. Barea in the starting lineup late in the series, where he changed the tempo of the game, and had DeShawn Stevenson come off the bench. And he managed the minutes of his veteran team, leaving his players fresh to knock off Oklahoma City, the L.A. Lakers and Miami.
"This is a special team," Carlisle told reporters Sunday night. "This is the most special team that I've ever been around, because it's not about what you can't do, it's about what you can do. It's not about what your potential shortcomings are, it's what we could accomplish as a group together. And it was just phenomenal to be around them."
It was phenomenal to watch.
Carlisle, it turns out, is a championship-caliber coach.
Just not in Indiana.
Which brings me to Rick Carlisle, NBA championship coach, who apparently wasn't quite good enough to make a go of it with the Indiana Pacers.
Carlisle unfairly took the fall for team president Larry Bird and a roster of misbehaving players after the 2006-07 season, and on Sunday night, there he was, standing on the podium with the NBA champion Dallas Mavericks, reveling in a moment he helped make happen.
Good for him. Good for everybody who has ever gotten the short end of the deal from management.
I am always disinclined to say "I told you so" -- it's self-aggrandizing and petty -- but in this case, I'm going to say it: I told you so.
In late April 2007, I wrote a series of columns saying Carlisle was a fall guy and a scapegoat, and this:
"Think about this: Has any head coach in any professional sport been forced to deal with more non-basketball-related nonsense these past three years?
"Soon enough, the ax will fall on Carlisle, leaving him with the option to take another coaching job, join the front office or take a sabbatical. After three years of coaching this eclectic group of humans, he deserves a year off. But my sense is he will end up coaching somewhere else and winning somewhere else."
Yep.
He did OK.
Isn't it amazing how much better a coach Carlisle became when he got away from Ron Artest, Stephen Jackson, Jermaine O'Neal, David Harrison, Jamaal Tinsley and the cast of loonies?
Isn't it amazing how much better a coach Carlisle became when his front office brought in free agents like Tyson Chandler instead of Sarunas Jasikevicius?
Carlisle didn't deserve a pink slip for his four years here; he deserved a Purple Heart.
Again, consider the madness that surrounded his tenure.
He had that great first season in 2003-04, leading the Pacers to a 61-21 record and an Eastern Conference finals appearance against Detroit.
That, though, wasn't his greatest coaching job. The next season brought The Brawl, and somehow -- with a decimated team, with guys coming in off the streets (remember Britton Johnsen?) and players like Fred Jones leading the way -- Carlisle not only got the Pacers to the playoffs, but won a first-round series against Doc Rivers and the Boston Celtics.
The next season, The Brawl continued to resonate in ways that made Carlisle's job next to impossible. The players who stepped up and performed well the previous year were relegated back to the bench, and most failed to accept their diminished roles. And, of course, there was Artest's wigged-out trade request, which forced the Pacers to drop and eventually trade him away. Still, that team made the playoffs with a 41-41 record.
Carlisle's fourth season was doomed before it even started. Training camp opened with the Club Rio affair, followed shortly thereafter by the 8 Seconds Saloon incident and a host of injuries. Now, there were people inside the organization who felt that Carlisle lost control of that team, that he kowtowed to O'Neal and lost the attention of his team as it limped to a 35-47 finish. And there were complaints about his personality, the way he could come across (unintentionally, it seemed to me) as cold, detached and arrogant.
The players didn't like what they viewed as a paint-by-numbers offense that finished last in the league in scoring that final year. They believed they were being shackled, which seems really funny in retrospect when you see how beautifully Dallas' offense runs with a professional point guard and big guys who can rebound.
Whatever Carlisle's culpability might have been, it paled in comparison with the mistakes the front office had made.
And yet, he was fired.
Foolishly.
What Carlisle did this season with the Mavericks ranks as one of the most impressive coaching jobs we've ever seen. He lost his No. 2 scorer, Caron Butler, in January, and later his backup big man, Brendan Haywood, who was in and out of the Finals lineup with a hip pointer.
During the series against Miami, Carlisle hit all the right buttons. He threw zones at the Heat, who couldn't have been more confused if the playbook was written in Mandarin Chinese. He put J.J. Barea in the starting lineup late in the series, where he changed the tempo of the game, and had DeShawn Stevenson come off the bench. And he managed the minutes of his veteran team, leaving his players fresh to knock off Oklahoma City, the L.A. Lakers and Miami.
"This is a special team," Carlisle told reporters Sunday night. "This is the most special team that I've ever been around, because it's not about what you can't do, it's about what you can do. It's not about what your potential shortcomings are, it's what we could accomplish as a group together. And it was just phenomenal to be around them."
It was phenomenal to watch.
Carlisle, it turns out, is a championship-caliber coach.
Just not in Indiana.
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