Chapter 971: Chapter 19: Going for the Big Score
After the 1988 season ended, I was fired once again, with no support from anyone, the entire League seemed like strangers to me.
I was shocked and felt empty. I had led the team to the playoffs, full of ambition to go further, only to be told I was no longer the coach of the team.
Replacing me was the Trail Blazers’ assistant coach Adelman, who, in fact, didn’t last long as the Warriors’ coach and soon humbly returned to Portland.
In short, I realized that being a basketball coach is a difficult way to make a living.
The money is a lot, but there’s no sense of security, no stability, and you spend long periods away from your wife and kids.
My self-esteem took a deep hit; it felt like no matter how much I did, I never gained trust.
For several months, I was in low spirits, and I called my former Spurs teammate, Kobi Derrick.
"What should I do now?" I asked him.
"You’re a coach, you can only coach; what else can you do?" Kobi answered me.
"Go back to the CBA?"
"I don’t know, George, you can only be a coach, whether in the CBA or the NBA; it’s all coaching."
Kobi seemed to be saying nonsense, but it was actually very useful.
Knowing who you are is an important principle.
Too many people and teams waste time trying to be someone or something they’re not.
I’m a basketball coach, I was in the past, I am now, and I will be in the future.
I’ve proven myself in the NBA, but maybe it’s not the right place for me right now. I can go somewhere else to continue coaching and start anew.
In a new place, I will win games, enrich myself, and make myself better.
I stopped waiting aimlessly and proactively called around for job opportunities.
In the following days, I met Phil Jackson, whose path at that time was opposite to mine.
I was leaving the NBA, while Phil was returning to the NBA.
After coaching the Albany Patroons in the CBA for 5 years, Phil was hired as an assistant coach for the Chicago Bulls.
The owner of the Patroons called me, asking for a recommendation to replace Jackson.
I said, "What about me?"
"What!?"
Gary Holly was a bit incredulous that I would do such a thing.
Firstly, the salary for coaching in the CBA couldn’t compare to the NBA; it was downright paltry.
Secondly, a former NBA coach going back to a minor league? There’s no precedent; it’s quite humiliating.
But I still did it. I realized who I was, and I let go of unnecessary pride and dignity.
I am a basketball coach; I need to coach a team, win games with everyone, and achieve victory.
If I didn’t do anything to maintain my identity as an NBA head coach, I would eventually lose everything.
For someone like me, who’s often doubted, the Patroons and the CBA are perfect, perfect for me.
My NBA credentials combined with my confident coaching style made me a strong coach, and here I rebuilt my confidence and dignity as a coach.
The team’s home court was the Washington Avenue Armory built in 1890, holding 3,600 people. It was made of red brick, with a copper spire outside and a dark and dirty interior filled with people.
It’s a building that could resonate with me. I liked it—another one, of course, was the Rifield Submarine.
After staying in Albany for a year (we achieved a 36-win and 18-loss record), I went to Madrid to coach Real Madrid.
The sudden death of Spanish basketball legend Fernando Espina caught us off guard, and after a sad yet crazy season, I was fired again.
In the 1990-91 season, I returned to the Patroons once more, where the doors were always open for me, and I underwent the final test that fate had in store for me.
We achieved a 50-win and 6-loss record—the best record in professional basketball history.
Our winning percentage of 89.3% surpassed that of the Lakers, the Bulls, and the Portland Trail Blazers.
50-6.
How was this achieved? Of course, there was credit to me as the coach.
Meanwhile, the team’s manager Oliver also deserves recognition.
We didn’t perform well in the training camp, but Oliver found three very good players: Mario Ellie, Vince Ask, and Albert Jin.
In the future, they would shine in the NBA, but they first proved themselves under my guidance.
And I also proved myself once again through me and the Patroons.
At the end of our season, my old teams, the Warriors and Real Madrid, both called to ask if I was interested in returning to coach.
Mike Dunleavy did well with the Warriors, but they needed to take a further step, while Real Madrid was in trouble.
My self-esteem and confidence were restored, I decided to go back to Madrid again to save Real Madrid, just like how I saved the Patroons.
This time my coaching performance was better than before, but my situation got increasingly worse; my relationship with the media was as bad as ever.
At one point, I felt tired, extremely tired.
San Antonio, Grand Rapids, Cleveland, Oakland, Albany, Madrid, Albany, Madrid... In 11 years, I moved back and forth between 8 places.
My family followed me everywhere, and the kids never had a stable environment to grow up in.
On New Year’s Eve 1991, our family had dinner at a Chinese restaurant near the Spanish Building.
I told my daughter and son that I would resign after the season, and we would move back to America.
I would try to find a college coaching job to stabilize our lives, to recruit young students, and guide them to play in the NCAA.
A few days later, the Bulls’ general manager Jerry Krause called me to ask for my views on Toni Kukoc and Sam Bowies.
