By Jesse Marx
By Chris Parker
By Jake Rossen
By Jesse Marx
By Michelle LeBow
By Alleen Brown
By Maggie LaMaack
By CP Staff
What a mess.
With their season in a shambles, the Minnesota Timberwolves sacrificed Flip Saunders last Saturday, firing the coach after one of his teams underachieved relative to its collective talent for the first time in Saunders's nine-plus years here. When a team that is expected to contend for a championship falls below .500 more than 50 games into the season, canning the head coach is an almost reflexive response. But serving up Saunders's head on a platter still retained an element of surprise precisely because it was the sort of ineffectual, unimaginative decision that bad franchises typically make. It is not likely to remedy the team's troubles in either the short term or the long run.
The most striking thing about Saunders's removal is how little input--or how much plausible deniability--Kevin Garnett has had in the proceedings. More than any other team sport, pro basketball is renowned as a "player's league," where the stars, far more often and thoroughly than the coaches, set the tone and hold the power. Grumpy old men who bemoan today's pampered, selfish players like to reminisce about the "golden era" ushered in by Magic Johnson and Larry Bird, but conveniently forget that Magic personally got then-Lakers coach Paul Westhead fired in 1981 by issuing a "him or me" trade demand. Westhead was gone the next day. An entire book, The Jordan Rules, was written about Michael Jordan's privileged status on the Chicago Bulls. And even the NBA coach regarded as the shrewdest manipulator of superstar egos, Phil Jackson, couldn't prevent the feud between Shaq and Kobe derailing the Lakers a year ago.
At the start of the current season, the website NBA.com surveyed the league's general managers on their opinions of the "best leader" among active players. KG, the reigning MVP, received more than twice as many votes as anyone else. In recent years, it's been no secret that the Wolves' brain trust has consulted Garnett about potential trades and acquisitions. Despite all this, Garnett said after the Wolves' loss to Chicago on Sunday that he wasn't aware of the decision to ax Saunders until after it was made. "It had nothing to do with Kevin Garnett. It had nothing to do with Kevin McHale, nothing to do with Latrell Sprewell," KG added, claiming the decision was owner Glen Taylor's alone. This contrdicts accounts by both McHale and Taylor, who say it was their joint decision resulting from a discussion initiated by McHale.
But what's most revealing is Garnett, without prompting, throwing Sprewell's name into the mix. I've written plenty already about the damage Spree and Sam Cassell did to the Wolves' focus, chemistry, and performance by bellyaching about their contracts during the preseason; in the past week, Saunders and Taylor have finally admitted as much. In retrospect, Saunders's undoing was the direct result of erratic and often poor performance by the two stars directly behind KG in the team's pecking order. Whether the cause is advancing age, lack of motivation, or simple vindictiveness, Saunders obviously didn't handle the situation properly.
But to an outside observer not privy to what goes on in practice or the locker room, it doesn't appear that he received much help from KG either. Maybe Garnett called out Cassell and Spree in private. But KG also was quick to point out, and thus to tacitly criticize, occasions when Spree was benched in the first half, most notably after Spree racked up 19 first-quarter points in a loss to Milwaukee on February 1. Eight days later, when Spree's defense on Carmelo Anthony fueled a Wolves win against Denver, Saunders pointedly said it was superior to Spree's effort in Milwaukee. The bottom line is that everybody's reputation--Saunders, KG, Spree, and Cassell--deserves to take a hit this season.
Meanwhile, Wolves VP of player personnel Kevin McHale has been seething on the sidelines for most of the season. The grumpiest of the old men, McHale routinely uses the halcyon days of Magic and Bird to disparage the relative lack of effort and appreciation for fundamentals demonstrated by today's players. By appointing himself Flip's interim successor, McHale has admirably, albeit unwisely, decided to put his own philosophy and personnel decisions in the spotlight.
McHale and Taylor justified the firing by claiming that the players need to hear "a different voice" (translation: they had begun tuning Flip out) from somebody with both the will and the power to "get in the players' faces." More specifically, McHale has a laundry list of changes he wants to implement, including fewer set plays and more freelancing on offense, with an emphasis on getting points in the paint. KG, plagued by an ailing knee, will supposedly have his playing time cut back to about 32 minutes per game. McHale will demand that the team hustle back in transition defense and guard the basket more physically. After the Bulls game, McHale added that when one of the Wolves' big men comes over to stop dribble penetration, he wants his "6'3" guard to come down and belt [seven-foot Chicago center] Eddy Curry in the mouth," putting a literal spin on his taste for smash-mouth basketball. At present there is only one 6'3" guard on the Wolves' roster: Sam Cassell. If McHale thinks Sammy is going to drop down and joust with the bigs consistently after getting beaten off the dribble outside, he's in for a rude awakening.