Monday, Mar. 20, 2000
The Philosopher Coach
By CHRISTOPHER JOHN FARLEY
If the Los Angeles Lakers win the NBA championship this year, their fans will have two people to thank: Phil Jackson and Friedrich Nietzsche.
Jackson, the head coach of the Lakers, has always had an appealingly philosophical approach toward coaching, one that can coax five NBA-size egos into performing like a marching band at full sprint. "All of us had flashes of this sense of oneness--making love, creating a work of art," he says in his autobiography, Sacred Hoops, "when we're completely immersed in the moment, inseparable from what we're doing. This kind of experience happens all the time on the basketball floor."
Well, not in L.A. last year, where the Lakers went through two coaches on the way to being swept out of the play-offs. This year, his first with the Lakers, Jackson has a roster brimming with talent, including superstar-of-the-future Kobe Bryant, superstar-of-the-present Shaquille O'Neal and old pros such as Glen Rice, A.C. Green and Ron Harper.
It's very much the same team, a bit more mature perhaps, and Shaq is healthy, but the big difference is that the Lakers are winning. Under Jackson, the Lakers sport the glossiest record in the NBA (51-11), and O'Neal is having an MVP season. "We've had a good first half," says the massive 315-lb., 7-ft. 1-in. O'Neal, who is averaging almost 30 points a game. "Now we have to maintain." Adds Jackson: "To be quite frank, I didn't think they'd be this far along now."
Jackson, 54, has come a long way himself. He was born in Deer Lodge, Mont., and reared in Williston, N.D. His parents were ministers, so he became drawn to issues of spirituality at an early age. His career path, however, was secular: he was a star basketball player at the University of North Dakota and a role player (nicknamed "Action" Jackson) in the NBA, where he was a member of title-winning New York Knicks squads in 1970 and 1973. There he became close friends with teammate Bill Bradley. Indeed, Jackson was being touted as a possible head coach of the Bradley campaign before he took the Lakers job.
Jackson's interest in Eastern thought and Native American mysticism (hence Sacred Hoops) increasingly informed his approach to coaching. Drawing from Buddhism, he speaks often of rejecting selfishness and egotism. In winning six championships with the Chicago Bulls, he emphasized selfless movement without the ball in a pattern known as the triangle offense. The triangle forced defenses to stretch, to cover everyone, everywhere--and that left the opposing team vulnerable to Michael Jordan.
Jackson's players often talk about his contributions in abstract terms that reflect his thoughtful outlook on the game. Bryant credits Jackson with helping him to become "more aware" of what's happening on the basketball court. "It sounds like a minor thing," says Bryant, "but it's very big when you're playing at this level to really be aware of everything around you."
As for O'Neal, he has shown fresh dedication to solving his problems at the free-throw line, a place where he has laid down enough bricks to qualify for union membership. "He's much better," says Jackson. "He's been dedicating a lot of time off-hours to just shooting free throws. His poise, his confidence, his touch are better. He has some fundamental things wrong with his shot, but he's trying to correct those."
Jackson's positive attitude has helped O'Neal's confidence. "He's a top coach who makes the right moves," says O'Neal. Truth be told, Shaq's not really that much better at the line--his .502 free-throw percentage is down slightly from last season. But lately he's been shooting better, especially in big games.
This means that Jackson doesn't have to yank Shaq late in the game before opponents can foul him deliberately to get him to the line. In a recent match against Portland, the Lakers' likely rival for the Western Conference title, O'Neal made nine of 13 from the line. If he ever gets his free-throw act together, he'll be...actually, it's too frightening to think about. In a game just last week, he scored 61 points and grabbed 23 rebounds. O.K., it was against the L.A. Clippers--Christina Aguilera could probably put up 40 points and 10 boards against them--but it was still impressive.
In games Jackson is not a big screamer; he usually sits coolly by the sidelines, reserving his comments for the right moments. In practices he treats players respectfully--but he can get loud if someone isn't living up to his high standards. Slack off and Jackson, who is 6-ft. 8-in. tall, beam-shouldered and deep-voiced, can be intimidating.
He is constantly urging players to sacrifice their individual games for the sake of the team. His subtext is persuasive: Hey, Jordan gave up some of his individual stats to help the Bulls win six. Why can't you suck it up for the team too? "He's definite about things," says his longtime assistant coach Tex Winters. "He doesn't let things slip. He's not afraid to go face to face with Kobe or Shaq or anybody."
Which leads us to Nietzsche.
Jackson isn't into hype, but he isn't above mind games. He likes to assign his players books to read--novels, collections of poetry, works of philosophy. The players don't always read them, but the coach feels it's important to give them the opportunity to grow intellectually. "It's a chance for you to get outside of yourself," says Jackson. "A lot of times when you're as egocentric as we are, so thoroughly bound to our own perspectives in this world, it's important to get another viewpoint. TV is great, won't complain about it, but it's great to turn off the TV and have a book as a companion when you're alone on the road."
So, earlier this season, Jackson handed out some reading. He gave several of the players books by mystery novelist Walter Mosley. He gave Harper Toni Morrison's Jazz. And he gave O'Neal a copy of Nietzsche's Ecce Homo (How One Becomes What One Is). "It is all my art and aim," Nietzsche writes, "to compose into one and bring together what is fragment and riddle and dreadful chance." Maybe that's what Jackson does: he brings together disparate players--fragments and riddles--and makes them one. Then, again, we are talking basketball here, and maybe all Jackson is trying to do is create an air of mystery around his coaching methods and his team in order to give his players a mental edge. "I thought about Shaq's attitude toward life," says Jackson, "and I thought he could respond to Nietzsche."
Whatever his intent, his methods are working. "I don't want them to have too great a record now," Jackson laughs. "Growth is what's important." If Jackson ever gets around to giving his Uberman Shaq Thus Spake Zarathustra, the rest of the Lakers' opponents could be in even bigger trouble than they are now.