Nets know how to make life difficult for coaches

Sporting News, The, Dec 19, 1994 by Shaun Powell

Who holds the toughest coaching job in pro basketball?

Is it Bill Fitch of the Clippers, who lost 16 out the gate and do have enough NBA talent to fill a CBA roster? Might it be Don Nelson, whose Warriors are rapidly separating themselves from t pack of contenders in the West in 1994-95 A.D. (After Deal)?

Maybe it's Jerry Sloan, who is in the final season of his contract. No matter what does with the Jazz, it might not convince ownership to give him more than a one-year e tension.

Well, the answer is: none of the above. Judging from the first six weeks, Butch Beard has them beat, hands down. Beard is the rookie coach of the Nets, an that alone qualifies him for the top hot spot. You could pick a number of other teams t cut your coaching teeth and have a better chance of keeping your sanity. Milwaukee Minnesota. Toronto. The Clippers, even. But the Nets?

Already, Beard has dealt with a variety of headaches. Derrick Coleman violated his dress code. Kenny Anderson knocked his use of Kenny Anderson. But those were minor things from major players. The most alarming examples of resistance came from the other end of the bench.

Twice in as many days, Chris Morris, pouting over his cameo role in Beard's offense walked through the team's shootaround practice with his shoelaces untied. But at least Morris and his Dutch sneakers were present. Dwayne Schintzius, the Nets' reserve center who can't play his way past Benoit Benjamin, boycotted one of Beard's practices to protest his measly minutes.

Beard responded by benching both players and then scrambled to try and heal the wounds.

Most of the problems inherited by Beard, who had a nine-year NBA playing career, were expected. Chuck Daly, a master at stroking egos and stomping brushfires, was so frustrated dealing with the Nets' unique blend of personalities that he walked away last summer.

That was a sign that coaching the Nets would be a tough assignment for anyone, particularly someone who lacked NBA head-coaching experience. But Nets General Manager Willis Reed bypassed Nets assistant Paul Silas, whom the players respected, for Beard, who had to earn their respect.

Not that Beard was a disastrous choice. He is not this season's Quinn Buckner. Bear seems to have the temperament and flexibility to coach almost any group of players It's just that the Nets are an extreme.

The club did nothing in the offseason to make life more comfortable for Beard, either. A week before the draft, Reed signed a player no one wanted, swingman Sean Higgins. Then, believing Higgins was the answer to the Nets' shooting problems, he drafted raw big man Yinka Dare instead of Wesley Person.

As it turns out, neither Higgins nor Dare is helping the Nets. Meanwhile, Person has worked his way into the Suns' rotation.

Over the summer, the Nets refused to extend Morris' contract beyond this season, which made Morris more skittish than usual about minutes and shots. When neither was to his liking, Morris directed his frustration toward Beard ("We don't even talk, man," Morris says.) and asked to be traded. Beard also has had to cope with the combustible Coleman, who is $37.5 million richer but also restless over the Nets' inability to surround him with better players.

Compounding the situation was the slight Achilles' tendon tear suffered two weeks ago by starting guard Kevin Edwards, who is out at least until January.

After a team meeting last weekend, Beard declared the Nets a new club. "I feel better about my team, " Beard says. "I told them I haven't given up on them. And they have to understand that if they don't give up on themselves, they're going to be all right."

A more appropriate question might be: Is Beard going to be all right?

Stark's nightmare

The nightmare was supposed to last only a week maybe a summer. Knicks guard John Starks missed 16 of 18 shots in Game 7 of the NBA Finals, including all 11 of his 3-point attempts. New York lost game, set an match to the Rockets.

Well, a month and a half into the next season, Stark remains in Game 7 form. He is misfiring badly, and his shot selection is often atrocious. But, unlike Game 7, Coach Pat Riley isn't sticking so closely by his man.

After a 10-game stretch in which Starks shot 31 percent and averaged 10 points, Starks volunteered to come off the bench. Riley responded by not playing him against Philadelphia last weekend. Although Riley says the benching had "nothing to do" with Starks' suggestion, Riley also says: It's obvious we haven't been right in sync. When that lasts for several games, whether you're winning or losing, it's time to inject some life in there. ... Somewhere, you've got to try something else."

Riley plans to be careful in dealing with Starks, as well he should. Starks lives and dies on his confidence. He is at his best when playing with determination and no fear.

Without that attitude, Starks isn't much better than your neighborhood grocery worker, the job Starks held before finding success in the NBA.