We’re already missing Phil Jackson from the NBA

The most successful coach in NBA history retired earlier this summer, taking a creative and needling personality with him.

Phil Jackson could raise the hackles of Spurs Nation better than any opposing coach. Like the time he said the Spurs’ 1998-99 championship deserved an asterisk because it was played with only 50 regular-season games. Or when he called Gregg Popovich and his coaching staff “The Simulator Crew” because of their lack of NBA playing experience.

But it’s true that the NBA will be a little less interesting without Jackson around next season.

His old friend and one-time assistant on his Albany Patroons staff, Charley Rosen, had an about Jackson and his unique coaching style.

Jackson had a way of directing his team that was decidedly his own. Like using smoldering leaves of white sage to cleanse his locker room of negative energy. Or beating a tom-tom to attract positive energy. Or his meditation exercises that were meant to identify his team’s personal “safe” spots on a bench.

We won’t see any of this from Popovich, Doc Rivers, Rick Carlisle or Erik Spoelstra.

And the NBA will be less interesting because of it.

But in case any of Spurs Nation is wondering if Jackson has become a reclusive hermit at his Montana compound, fear not.

His girlfriend, Jeanie Buss, had a tweet over the Fourth of July that informed us all that Jackson is enjoying his retirement — at least so far. (Hat tip to Sports by Brooks.com)

“Wishing all a happy reflective 4th of July,” . “Phil sent this (picture) from MT. You can take the man out of Woodstock but…”

Actually, Jackson looked like he might be getting ready for the motorcycle rallies at Sturgis, S.D., next month .

And he was only missing the giant red, white and blue hat and the extended index finger to be mistaken for Uncle Sam.

Mike Monroe: Pop sees possible Phil successor down on the farm

After his Mavericks chased Phil Jackson into retirement a few weeks earlier than planned, Rick Carlisle famously speculated how long the Lakers coach “ … can go to Montana and meditate and smoke peyote, or whatever he does there. I don’t know. He’s going to get bored, and I mean that in an endearing manner.”

Gregg Popovich wonders how long another old coach can watch corn grow without feeling the pull of competition.

Shouldn’t the Lakers ask Jerry Sloan if he would like to discuss replacing Jackson?

“I just can’t see him staying on the farm,” the Spurs coach said. “Jerry’s too freakin’ competitive.”

It’s hard to imagine Sloan, who swears he is perfectly content on his Macleansboro, Ill., farm, adapting to the go-go life in La-La Land.

Adapting to a coaching role that includes replacing a legend?

Easier than shucking an ear of corn.

“L.A. is very ‘un-Jerry,’ but he’d have the respect, that’s for sure,” Popovich said. “People would listen.”

They would listen because Sloan is a Hall of Fame coach and because he remains just as competitive as the most intense of players.

Sloan’s approach to basketball, and life, is so foreign to Jackson’s, he could be the perfect replacement.

Here’s something easy to imagine: Kobe Bryant, executing high pick-and-rolls with Pau Gasol or Lamar Odom, as John Stockton once ran them with Karl Malone.

Part of Jackson’s genius was embracing an offensive system, Tex Winter’s triple-post offense, and sticking with it.

Sloan, too, is a system coach who demanded perfect execution of the offense he borrowed from Dick Motta and others.

Now Sloan is on the farm, and Jackson is meditating in Montana.

At 62, Popovich has watched fellow 60-something coaches ease into retirement, forced or otherwise. With Jackson gone, Popovich and Boston’s Doc Rivers are the only active coaches who fully comprehend what it takes to wring an NBA championship from a team.

“I’m just awestruck at what Phil’s accomplished,” Popovich said. “To a degree, I know what you have to go through to do that, but we’ve done it four times. He’s done it 11 times.

“To go through all those playoff games, each one a war and a drain, an unbelievable emotional and psychological test; for him to have done that 11 times makes me awestruck.”

Popovich never ate dinner or shared a bottle of wine with Jackson. Amazingly, he never had a single conversation with him until February. Then, he phoned him before the All-Star Game, a courtesy call to let Jackson know he was starting Tim Duncan, rather than Pau Gasol, as a replacement for injured center Yao Ming.

“I wanted him to know,” Popovich said, “before the press found out.”

The fact they weren’t fast friends doesn’t diminish Popovich’s sincere respect for Jackson’s professional achievements and personal vision.

“He exhibited unbelievably great perspective,” Popovich said. “He knows it’s basketball, period, and nothing more. He’s been great in applying life’s lessons to it. Once it’s done, it’s done. You do the best job you can and try to relate it to people’s lives and take your satisfaction out of the group that you’ve formed and how well they have progressed together. That’s the real joy of it, and I think he gets that as much, or more, than most ever have.

“He seems to relish what the group can accomplish and how to get it to that point. Then, when it’s over, you win or you lose, and it seems he is very able to just move on, because life does move on and is important beyond basketball.”

mikemonroe@express-news.net

Buck Harvey: Phil says goodbye, as if he’s human

DALLAS — I always liked Phil Jackson. I liked his wit, and I liked how he saw the world, and I liked how he filled my notebook.

I liked how he coached, too. What the Triangle offense didn’t impact, his calm did.

But along the way, as he won 11 championships, Jackson was treated as if he were above the details that affect other coaches. That’s where his last day as a Laker came in.

Then, Jackson reminded everyone he’s human.

I didn’t like everything about Jackson. The asterisk label he put on the Spurs after their 1999 title, for example, was both arrogant and unfair.

Using seemingly every loss to critique officiating became a tiresome habit, too, and David Stern apparently felt the same. He gave Jackson a farewell gift Sunday: a $35,000 fine for his latest complaint.

Still, the vast majority of Jackson’s coaching career was as impressive as it was entertaining. He sparred with his bosses in Chicago while connecting with Michael Jordan, and those who played for him loved him.

Steve Kerr, a Jackson disciple, made for a good reference.

Jackson was the same Sunday. Then, he quoted Richard Nixon and Casey Stengel in a funny, relaxed final press conference.

When someone asked him about Rick Carlisle’s assessment of his retirement, that he doesn’t “know how long you can go to Montana and meditate and smoke peyote,” Jackson’s counter was classic.

“First of all,” he said, “you don’t smoke peyote.”

Jackson said this the way he walked off the floor Sunday. He looked, as always, bemused.

But neither his words nor his expression could hide what had happened over the previous few hours. Then, his Lakers — his two-time champions — came apart in every way a basketball team can come apart.

Was Jackson stunned by this, since just a week ago he was still coaching the conference favorite?

“No,” Jackson said, because he’s never stunned. That’s been his attitude, too.

But somewhere between Jason Terry throwing in 9 of 10 3-pointers and J.J. Barea dribbling through the Lakers’ defense, stunned should have been an appropriate reaction.

This was stunning, too: The Mavericks ended with 86 bench points Sunday, or as many as all of the Lakers.

Worse for Jackson, though, was the Lakers’ counter to the Dallas surge. With confused rotations and unwilling close-out defenders, the Lakers played without a discernible strategy.

Jackson had always believed in letting his guys work it out, and it was clearly an easier approach when his guys included a Jordan or a Kobe Bryant in his prime. But this past week, his timeouts came more quickly and more urgently, until Jackson went out of character in Game 3. Then, he bumped Pau Gasol in the chest.

So you’re changing your approach this late in your career, he was asked minutes before Game 4?

“Whatever it takes,” he said. “You do what you have to do coaching.”

This what-you-have-to-do thing goes on in Sacramento and Charlotte and even San Antonio.

His players followed his lead, losing their cool, too. Consumed by frustration, Lamar Odom and Andrew Bynum opted for dirty. Their actions gave the Lakers three ejections in the series.

So when the Lakers weren’t ill-prepared, they were lazy and childish. Isn’t coaching responsible for some of that?

Carlisle defended Jackson afterward. “Look, we’re talking about the greatest coach in the history of our game,” Carlisle said. “This shouldn’t taint what he’s done.”

Carlisle is right. Jackson’s legacy won’t be affected by one series or one game.

As for me: I like him now as much as I ever did.

Still, Sunday showed what has always been true. Jackson has coached great players to great things, but he’s always been as vulnerable as his peers. He’s always been vulnerable to aging players, and to red-hot opponents, and to games that don’t go his way.

And in his final one?

A bemused look couldn’t hide what had happened.

bharvey@express-news.net