(Proof that Voisin can do an admirable job of writing when she's not grinding an axe...VF21)
http://www.sacbee.com/content/sports/story/13052841p-13898496c.html
Ailene Voisin: We always knew 'Pop' was smart
By Ailene Voisin -- Bee Columnist
Published 2:15 am PDT Sunday, June 12, 2005
SAN ANTONIO - His cover has been blown, the story leaked by his own players. See, that uptight coach on the Spurs' sideline, the one screeching at Manu Ginobili, barking at Tony Parker, chiding Tim Duncan, is Gregg Popovich in disguise. The real Popovich - the one known around the league as "Pop" - is actually one of the game's most enlightened and unorthodox thinkers, a flesh-and-blood Renaissance man.
Who cares that he honestly believes he's in charge, that he administers discipline with a velvet swat, that he never frets about job security?
Everyone has fantasies. Popovich also has options.
Long before trekking the globe and blending the Spurs into a league of nations and two-time NBA champions, Popovich was employed as a college administrator, a college professor, a college coach and, in one of the league's worst-kept secrets, a military spy stationed on the Russian border during the Cold War. "It's a long story," he said after a recent practice at the SBC Center. "Let's just say it didn't work out."
America's loss, it turns out, was San Antonio's gain. The days of moving stealthily as the low-profile boss of the small-market Spurs are gone, but only because Popovich has become too successful, too intriguing, too unique to overlook. Lurking beneath those craggy features, hiding behind that caustic facade, is an inquisitive, engaging, intellectually accomplished leader who happens to coach basketball - and who refuses to succumb to conventional thinking. Tomes about Socrates and Krzyzewski duel for the best seat on the bookcase. Wine and song compete with X's and O's on his list of major interests. And did we mention that he was a card-carrying member of the Women's Committee during his years as a coach and professor at Pomona-Pitzer?
"Some fraternities were not conducting themselves the way one might like them to on campus," explained Popovich, 56, who is of Serbian and Croatian descent. "The conventional wisdom is that jocks aren't all that sensitive to women's issues. Whether that's right or wrong, we don't have to debate. (But) they were looking for somebody to represent that element of the college, so I willingly accepted to serve. It was a gratifying experience, being in that environment and seeing exactly, from the inside, how women felt about fraternities and how athletes looked at the gender situations."
No, this is no Neanderthal, though he clearly exhibits a few old-school tendencies. He gives orders and demands acquiescence, with dissenters destined for the waiver wire. He requires a collaborative effort and discriminates between neither superstar nor journeyman. He preaches defense, ball movement and selflessness, and repeatedly advises his players to "get over themselves." And while he also can intimidate newcomers, his blunt remarks are usually tempered with wry asides. His response to Larry Brown's oft-cited, overused phrase - "playing the right way" - is pure Popovich.
"I think it's a bunch of baloney," he countered. "What's the right way? I don't know. If it was me playing, you know, give me the ball. I want to shoot. That's all I know. The rest of it is a bunch of baloney."
Asked about his experiences in military counterintelligence and his reasons for becoming a coach, the Air Force graduate cracked, "The money you (the American public) paid for my Soviet studies education is gone for naught."
Pause.
"Thank you, by the way."
All kidding aside, Popovich, who is extremely close to Duncan and credits their relationship with enabling him to coach to his personality, has been forced to adapt, to become more flexible during his eight seasons as Spurs coach. Some of the changes are obvious, others more subtle. The crewcut has given way to a thick mane of white hair that he combs straight back. His suits have become more stylish, no longer a target in the locker room. His sessions with large media gatherings have become entertaining, his exchanges with several journalists downright hilarious. The far more significant changes, of course, have transpired on the court, where through gritted teeth, he has overseen the development of energetic young stars Parker and Ginobili.
"Our first two years," related Parker, grinning, "he was always screaming at me, like he was hard to take sometimes, getting all red and crazy. We're going to make mistakes, but now he's pretty cool. He adapts to my style and Manu's style ... because Manu was pretty crazy when he arrived. And he and Pop had some hard times. And he's just perfect now with Manu."
Maybe not perfect, but interesting, and certainly worth watching.
About the writer: The Bee's Ailene Voisin can be reached at (916) 321-1208 or avoisin@sacbee.com
http://www.sacbee.com/content/sports/story/13052841p-13898496c.html
Ailene Voisin: We always knew 'Pop' was smart
By Ailene Voisin -- Bee Columnist
Published 2:15 am PDT Sunday, June 12, 2005
SAN ANTONIO - His cover has been blown, the story leaked by his own players. See, that uptight coach on the Spurs' sideline, the one screeching at Manu Ginobili, barking at Tony Parker, chiding Tim Duncan, is Gregg Popovich in disguise. The real Popovich - the one known around the league as "Pop" - is actually one of the game's most enlightened and unorthodox thinkers, a flesh-and-blood Renaissance man.
Who cares that he honestly believes he's in charge, that he administers discipline with a velvet swat, that he never frets about job security?
Everyone has fantasies. Popovich also has options.
Long before trekking the globe and blending the Spurs into a league of nations and two-time NBA champions, Popovich was employed as a college administrator, a college professor, a college coach and, in one of the league's worst-kept secrets, a military spy stationed on the Russian border during the Cold War. "It's a long story," he said after a recent practice at the SBC Center. "Let's just say it didn't work out."
America's loss, it turns out, was San Antonio's gain. The days of moving stealthily as the low-profile boss of the small-market Spurs are gone, but only because Popovich has become too successful, too intriguing, too unique to overlook. Lurking beneath those craggy features, hiding behind that caustic facade, is an inquisitive, engaging, intellectually accomplished leader who happens to coach basketball - and who refuses to succumb to conventional thinking. Tomes about Socrates and Krzyzewski duel for the best seat on the bookcase. Wine and song compete with X's and O's on his list of major interests. And did we mention that he was a card-carrying member of the Women's Committee during his years as a coach and professor at Pomona-Pitzer?
"Some fraternities were not conducting themselves the way one might like them to on campus," explained Popovich, 56, who is of Serbian and Croatian descent. "The conventional wisdom is that jocks aren't all that sensitive to women's issues. Whether that's right or wrong, we don't have to debate. (But) they were looking for somebody to represent that element of the college, so I willingly accepted to serve. It was a gratifying experience, being in that environment and seeing exactly, from the inside, how women felt about fraternities and how athletes looked at the gender situations."
No, this is no Neanderthal, though he clearly exhibits a few old-school tendencies. He gives orders and demands acquiescence, with dissenters destined for the waiver wire. He requires a collaborative effort and discriminates between neither superstar nor journeyman. He preaches defense, ball movement and selflessness, and repeatedly advises his players to "get over themselves." And while he also can intimidate newcomers, his blunt remarks are usually tempered with wry asides. His response to Larry Brown's oft-cited, overused phrase - "playing the right way" - is pure Popovich.
"I think it's a bunch of baloney," he countered. "What's the right way? I don't know. If it was me playing, you know, give me the ball. I want to shoot. That's all I know. The rest of it is a bunch of baloney."
Asked about his experiences in military counterintelligence and his reasons for becoming a coach, the Air Force graduate cracked, "The money you (the American public) paid for my Soviet studies education is gone for naught."
Pause.
"Thank you, by the way."
All kidding aside, Popovich, who is extremely close to Duncan and credits their relationship with enabling him to coach to his personality, has been forced to adapt, to become more flexible during his eight seasons as Spurs coach. Some of the changes are obvious, others more subtle. The crewcut has given way to a thick mane of white hair that he combs straight back. His suits have become more stylish, no longer a target in the locker room. His sessions with large media gatherings have become entertaining, his exchanges with several journalists downright hilarious. The far more significant changes, of course, have transpired on the court, where through gritted teeth, he has overseen the development of energetic young stars Parker and Ginobili.
"Our first two years," related Parker, grinning, "he was always screaming at me, like he was hard to take sometimes, getting all red and crazy. We're going to make mistakes, but now he's pretty cool. He adapts to my style and Manu's style ... because Manu was pretty crazy when he arrived. And he and Pop had some hard times. And he's just perfect now with Manu."
Maybe not perfect, but interesting, and certainly worth watching.
About the writer: The Bee's Ailene Voisin can be reached at (916) 321-1208 or avoisin@sacbee.com
