看板 UTAH-JAZZ 關於我們 聯絡資訊
Sloan deserves salute for wins, example By MIKE LOPRESTI Gannett News Service INDIANAPOLIS - And now Jerry Sloan, the common man and farmer's son, who has won a thousand NBA games and worked at the same job continuously longer than any coach in professional sport, will talk about himself. "I'm just another guy." Any questions? He had a little more to say, but not much. Jerry Sloan would rather bite into a cactus than talk about Jerry Sloan. But someone has to, because his 1,002 wins through Sunday put him fifth on the all-time list. And because 19 seasons with the Utah Jazz makes him first in longevity among coaches and managers of any sport, even though everyone knows they have the lifespan of windshield wipers. Sloan has gone two years longer than Atlanta's Bobby Cox in baseball, four longer than Pittsburgh's Bill Cowher in the NFL, and eight longer than San Antonio's Gregg Popovich, second best in the NBA. There have been 187 coaching changes in pro basketball in Sloan's tenure. The Los Angeles Clippers have made 11 changes, Denver 10. A talk-worthy feat, right? "Not really. It's just day to day with me and basketball," he was saying, standing in a hallway here, 90 minutes before the Jazz would beat Indiana Sunday. "I was like that as a player, too. I didn't know what tomorrow would bring. "I've been very lucky. I've had good players. My owner stuck with me through tough times." But about owning those numbers and never being named coach of the year? "Not even a concern." Simple. To the point. Nothing showy. The way he talks. The way he coaches. The way he lives. If Jerry Sloan were a Christmas tree, he wouldn't have a single ornament. Here's Phil Johnson, the assistant for all 19 seasons: "I don't think he blows his own whistle and there are a lot of coaches that do that, who talk about how great they are." Here's Derek Fisher, old Laker and Warrior, new Jazz player: "He could care less what you did yesterday and he's not worried about what's going to happen tomorrow. It's all about right now. "He believes in honesty and integrity and truth. And nothing really comes before that." And here's David Lee, who grew up on a southern Illinois farm. A mile down the road was another farm with 10 kids, one of them named Jerry Sloan. Lee was a friend when Sloan went to grade school ... when Sloan married his high school sweetheart Bobbye 43 years ago ... and buried her in 2004. Lee can tell you what Sloan looks like tinkering with old tractors because Sloan goes back home to McLeansboro to do it every summer. He can tell you how happy Sloan looks in the picture on the Christmas card with new wife Tammy. He can tell you how a man who has won a thousand games in the NBA can still be as fancy as a corncob. "The only extravagant thing he's ever done in his life is build his new house," Lee said, "and that's because Bobbye wanted it." He can even tell you the day Sloan gave up drinking. It was in the 1990s, with his wife battling breast cancer that she would defeat, only to lose later to pancreatic cancer. Sloan went home after a late night, and Bobbye was waiting. "She told him," Lee said, 'Here you are throwing away your life while I'm fighting for mine.' He quit right then." Straightforward. To the point. Sounds like Sloan. "I become the devil sometimes because I get on a guy because he doesn't work hard," Sloan said. "I'm an old-fashioned coach. But players like to have a little discipline, I think. That's all I've ever known. "I've always said, how you come back after a loss is what I'm interested in. ... To find out who you really are, you find out after a loss." And he understands loss. Bobbye's second cancer was diagnosed in January 2004 and took her in June. Surely, coaching was an escape that dark winter for him, although the Jazz struggled, too, with Karl Malone and John Stockton gone at last. "It would have been easier for me to go back to my farm," he said Sunday. "That was the tough part, because I was always reminded. ... I'm still bothered by that." The taskmaster's eyes glistened and voice softened. Clearly, two years later, the mourning is not over. He is 64 now, and maybe has found out more about himself after a loss, as he said his players must do. A new marriage, new seasons. And the Jazz are winning again, with the league's second best record after Sunday, 18-6. But he growls the same values. There is not another coach quite like Jerry Sloan. If he won't say it, the rest of us should. Contact Mike Lopresti at mlopresti@gns.gannett.com. Originally published December 19, 2006 http://www.zanesvilletimesrecorder.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=2006612190307 -- ※ 發信站: 批踢踢實業坊(ptt.cc) ◆ From: 59.41.42.174
sam369: 12/24 01:13