Kori Ellis
10-02-2004, 09:30 PM
Ornery Skiles may not last long in Chicago
Charley Rosen / Special to FOXSports.com
http://msn.foxsports.com/story/3054962
Scott Skiles has confessed that the highlight of his playing career was hitting the buzzer-beating, game-winning shot that won the Indiana high school championship for Plymouth H.S. back in 1981.
As a legendary hero in what is undoubtedly the country's hotbed of schoolboy hoops, Skiles easily accepted the local traditions which defined the coach-player relationship.
The coach was the undisputed boss and arbiter of all basketball (and most social and cultural) decisions. The player's lot was to diligently follow orders, play hard and never question his coach's authority. Since players were expected to excel, a simple "Good job" was sufficient praise for even a championship-winning shot.
However, players were also expected to make numerous mistakes, and the coach's primary duty was to forcefully point each and every one of them out — and, if need be, subject the erring player to sprints, suicides or whatever punishment was deemed appropriate.
The coach? He never made mistakes.
By these tried-and-true standards, then, the fear of both private and public humiliation is an acceptable way for a coach to motivate his charges. And if that fear overflows into hatred, so much the better: "I'll show that bleeping coach just how good a player I really am!"
There never was any question that Skiles understood the pro game. After an All-American career at Michigan State, he became a first-round pick (22nd overall) of the Milwaukee Bucks. Over the course of the next ten seasons, his fiery temperament as well as a burgeoning alcoholism caused him to be moved from Milwaukee to Indiana to Orlando and on to Washington, before finishing his active career with Philadelphia.
If Skiles' defense was always suspect, he could consistently knock down 3-balls and he was one of the NBA's premier passing point guards for ten seasons. To this day, Skiles still holds the record for most assists in a single game — 30, on Dec. 30, 1990 vs. Denver. Even so, the 1994 Orlando Magic was the only team he ever played for that qualified for the playoffs.
Shortly after retiring, Skiles was named to Danny Ainge's coaching staff in Phoenix and eventually became the head man in December 1999.
Skiles' record in Phoenix is very revealing: After succeeding Danny Ainge, he led the Suns to a sterling 40-22 mark (a winning percentage of .645) The next season, the Suns were still effective (51-31), yet their winning percentage dipped slightly to .622. When the 2001-02 team got out of the gate slowly, Skiles increasingly reverted to his innate provocative and combative attitude. The result was his players turned against him and Skiles was fired with a 25-26 record.
Notice the trend — a worsening record in every succeeding season.
Last season, Skiles resurfaced on the Chicago bench as a mid-season replacement for Bill Cartwright, and under his guidance the Bulls were 19-47. The Bulls were a pitiful squad — loaded with washed up veterans like Scottie Pippen, Kendall Gill and Antonio Davis; minimally-talented journeymen like Rick Brunson, Eddie Robinson, Chris Jefferies, Linton Johnson, and Jannero Pargo; and a host of talented yet immature hooplings like Jamal Crawford, Eddy Curry, Tyson Chandler and Marcus Fizer. Chicago's only legit players were Jerome Williams and Kirk Hinrich, and since the former was dealt to New York, only the latter remains on hand.
Neither the incoming free agents (Eric Piatkowski, Adrian Griffin, Mike Wilks) nor the flotsam washed in from the Crawford trade (Othella Harrington, Frank Williams) will make Chicago respectable. The rookie crop — Ben Gordon, Luoi Deng and Chris Duhon — will of necessity be given all the playing time they can handle. But rooks are generally undependable and must learn to lose before they can learn to win.
Imported players — Cezary Trybanski, Andres Nocioni — can usually score but can't defend.
So what does Skiles have to work with?
He's already claimed that his favorite Bull is Hinrich, and this is completely understandable. Hinrich shares his coach's complexion and competitive nature, an ability to shoot and a willingness to pass, a lack of jets, as well as an earnest yet inadequate ability to play defense.
And Skiles has similarly (and rightly) criticized Curry for being fat, lazy and woefully out of shape. In response, the big man spent the off-season dropping upwards of 20 pounds and concentrating on his physical condition. (Alas, that Chandler didn't add those missing 20 pounds!)
So, there are too many miraculous occurrences that must come to pass before the Bulls can even hope to contend for a playoff spot. And as the losses mount, Skiles will become more frustrated, more belligerent, and more publicly critical of his players. How long before the inevitable rebellion begins?
Meanwhile, the Bulls haven't lost a game in nearly six months, and Scott Skiles is still beaconing optimism, sweetness and light.
Watch this space for further developments.
Charley Rosen / Special to FOXSports.com
http://msn.foxsports.com/story/3054962
Scott Skiles has confessed that the highlight of his playing career was hitting the buzzer-beating, game-winning shot that won the Indiana high school championship for Plymouth H.S. back in 1981.
As a legendary hero in what is undoubtedly the country's hotbed of schoolboy hoops, Skiles easily accepted the local traditions which defined the coach-player relationship.
The coach was the undisputed boss and arbiter of all basketball (and most social and cultural) decisions. The player's lot was to diligently follow orders, play hard and never question his coach's authority. Since players were expected to excel, a simple "Good job" was sufficient praise for even a championship-winning shot.
However, players were also expected to make numerous mistakes, and the coach's primary duty was to forcefully point each and every one of them out — and, if need be, subject the erring player to sprints, suicides or whatever punishment was deemed appropriate.
The coach? He never made mistakes.
By these tried-and-true standards, then, the fear of both private and public humiliation is an acceptable way for a coach to motivate his charges. And if that fear overflows into hatred, so much the better: "I'll show that bleeping coach just how good a player I really am!"
There never was any question that Skiles understood the pro game. After an All-American career at Michigan State, he became a first-round pick (22nd overall) of the Milwaukee Bucks. Over the course of the next ten seasons, his fiery temperament as well as a burgeoning alcoholism caused him to be moved from Milwaukee to Indiana to Orlando and on to Washington, before finishing his active career with Philadelphia.
If Skiles' defense was always suspect, he could consistently knock down 3-balls and he was one of the NBA's premier passing point guards for ten seasons. To this day, Skiles still holds the record for most assists in a single game — 30, on Dec. 30, 1990 vs. Denver. Even so, the 1994 Orlando Magic was the only team he ever played for that qualified for the playoffs.
Shortly after retiring, Skiles was named to Danny Ainge's coaching staff in Phoenix and eventually became the head man in December 1999.
Skiles' record in Phoenix is very revealing: After succeeding Danny Ainge, he led the Suns to a sterling 40-22 mark (a winning percentage of .645) The next season, the Suns were still effective (51-31), yet their winning percentage dipped slightly to .622. When the 2001-02 team got out of the gate slowly, Skiles increasingly reverted to his innate provocative and combative attitude. The result was his players turned against him and Skiles was fired with a 25-26 record.
Notice the trend — a worsening record in every succeeding season.
Last season, Skiles resurfaced on the Chicago bench as a mid-season replacement for Bill Cartwright, and under his guidance the Bulls were 19-47. The Bulls were a pitiful squad — loaded with washed up veterans like Scottie Pippen, Kendall Gill and Antonio Davis; minimally-talented journeymen like Rick Brunson, Eddie Robinson, Chris Jefferies, Linton Johnson, and Jannero Pargo; and a host of talented yet immature hooplings like Jamal Crawford, Eddy Curry, Tyson Chandler and Marcus Fizer. Chicago's only legit players were Jerome Williams and Kirk Hinrich, and since the former was dealt to New York, only the latter remains on hand.
Neither the incoming free agents (Eric Piatkowski, Adrian Griffin, Mike Wilks) nor the flotsam washed in from the Crawford trade (Othella Harrington, Frank Williams) will make Chicago respectable. The rookie crop — Ben Gordon, Luoi Deng and Chris Duhon — will of necessity be given all the playing time they can handle. But rooks are generally undependable and must learn to lose before they can learn to win.
Imported players — Cezary Trybanski, Andres Nocioni — can usually score but can't defend.
So what does Skiles have to work with?
He's already claimed that his favorite Bull is Hinrich, and this is completely understandable. Hinrich shares his coach's complexion and competitive nature, an ability to shoot and a willingness to pass, a lack of jets, as well as an earnest yet inadequate ability to play defense.
And Skiles has similarly (and rightly) criticized Curry for being fat, lazy and woefully out of shape. In response, the big man spent the off-season dropping upwards of 20 pounds and concentrating on his physical condition. (Alas, that Chandler didn't add those missing 20 pounds!)
So, there are too many miraculous occurrences that must come to pass before the Bulls can even hope to contend for a playoff spot. And as the losses mount, Skiles will become more frustrated, more belligerent, and more publicly critical of his players. How long before the inevitable rebellion begins?
Meanwhile, the Bulls haven't lost a game in nearly six months, and Scott Skiles is still beaconing optimism, sweetness and light.
Watch this space for further developments.