A new side of Avery emerges

- A new side of Avery Johnson has emerged from all of this. He's quick to take the credit for not only team successes, but for player successes/improvements that happened under his watch.

- He claims it's a miracle that a 67 win in 2007 made the playoffs in 2008.

- He claims (against countless insider reports that say otherwise, and a quote, "Get me a point guard.") that he loved the direction Devin Harris was going and was on the verge of being an 18 and 8 All-Star.

- He's a paranoid, self-aggrandizing, insecure person. As good of a person he is off the court, his true colors come to pass when he's in an athletic, authoritative environment.

- It's sad to see him go, he's truly a good person, he had the most success of any coach in the team's history, and he gave me some of my best Maverick's memories.

- But what's written below by www.dallasbasketball.com is all the proof you need.

- Insecure, mentally weak, and paranoid -

1) These are the main things I will take from Avery. As much as he liked to preach being mentally strong, I'll argue he was just as mentally weak as the team he was coaching.

2) His pet projects - Dampier, Howard, Devin Harris. All mush in the head. Dampier with his penchant for getting his feelings hurt by teammates. Howard with his penchant for cracking under pressure and also getting his feelings hurt by pretty much anyone who bashes him or stands against him. And the way he handled his BFF Harris geting traded. Grow up and get a sack. Harris and his penchant for being ultra-sensitive to media criticism. All Avery guys.

3) Avery's so paranoid, insecure, and afraid of his power getting compromised or his knowledge being questioned, runs off 3 assistants in the past 3 years. He runs off an NBA lifer, a man who's been in the league for 40 years (Del Harris). The power issues, the paranoia of his coaching decisions being put into question, and the insecurity of someone else being more knowledable than him. All adds up the ridiculousness of this guy.

4) And then not only running Del Harris off, but also promoting some video coordinator whipping boy in "Assistant coach Joe Prunty". A dude who Avery KNEW he could control and wouldn't speak up.

- Read below, DallasBasketball.com does it about as good as I could do it in why Little Hitler needed to go. This was written before the firing.





In March 2005, upon his hiring as head coach, Avery Johnson – with equal parts humility and power –promised that if he didn’t lead the Mavs to a title in the coming years, he “wouldn’t have to be fired’’ because he would resign. That humility is gone. That power should be. That title never came. The dismissal now must.

To the bitter end – and by God this is bitter, The Lil' Johnson somehow screaming down his exciting and elite 2006 NBA Finals club into a team that this year felt fortunate to even make the playoffs – Avery twisted the empathetic tales into being all about Avery, and twisted the tales of failure into being all about the shortcomings of “the men.’’ The media noticed. The fans noticed. And yeah, the players noticed.

"This is tough for me," said Avery after Tuesday’s playoff dismissal in New Orleans as he sidestepped a question about his job security. "Obviously this is where I was bornand raised. " Yes, that is an important note, Avery. All the time, money, blood and sweat invested in the Dallas Mavericks, by owner, staff, players and fans. … but what the 4-1 loss to the Hornets is REALLY about is the fact that you grew up there.

To those who read this space, it is not a newsflash that Avery is tip-toeing toward the unemployment line. We’ve spent the year chronicling how his approach has devolved from inspirational preacher/teacher to obnoxious Napoleonic know-it-all, from General Johnson to Captain Queeg. Because of Avery’s well-documented positives – he is a man of faith, a self-made basketball hero, helped get Dallas to some of its greatest pinnacles and even to this day, is admired by the players who have tired of his relentless hectoring – make this diffcult. The many examples of slippage – most of them never before reported -- have been painful for DallasBasketball.com to watch and to report.

DEL’S DEPARTURE: You first read about Del Harris’ semi-retirement a year ago in this space. Now know this: Del sits in a luxury suite at Mavs games and serves as a consultant to the owner in large part because Avery forcefully decided he no longer needed the once-valued guidance of the man the inexperienced coach used to refer to as “Professor.’’

NEVER CONTRADICT AVERY!: Avery’s close friend Joe Prunty earned sympathy from players after an incident in Detroit this year when the head coach excitedly called the wrong play in the huddle (no problem, it happens) and Prunty attempted to correct him. Johnson’s viciously profane directive to Prunty to “never’’ contradict him again caused players to alarmingly notice Avery’s sensitive ego.

‘AVERY’S TEAM’: Mark Cuban’s March 18 post-game meeting with Avery over the use of players in a home loss to the Lakers was well within the rights of the owner, and certainly not uncommon in Dallas. It wasn’t even an act of unhappiness with the coach, as evidenced by Cuban’s ensuing donning of an “Avery’s Team’’ T-shirt. Avery didn’t discuss the issue as if the owner was his boss, or even his co-worker; Avery discussed the issue loudly, defensively, and illogically.

THE ORIGIN OF BROKESTACK MOUNTAIN: Avery’s choice of which players would be his “pets’’ and which would be in his “doghouse’’ was once thought to be the result of his knowledge of psychology. We now believe it was more about which players stood up to the coach’s screaming and which did not. The feisty Jerry Stackhouse made it clear more than two years ago that he would not; we are told Stack was inches away from a physical altercation with the badgering coach before he was pulled away by teammates. And the next thing you know, Avery is a “Stack guy.’’ (And yes, Mavs fans, that is the genesis of Avery’s BrokeStack Mountain love for his veteran.) Avery and Stack are respectful friends. But Stack not taking Avery’s crap is part of how they got that way.

‘WE DON’T HAVE ANY LEADERS’: One of Avery’s training-camp themes was about how the Mavs “don’t have any leaders,’’ and that Avery is therefore the sole leader. This was, at the very least, an irritant to his veteran players. At at most, a stinging insult. In fact, the empty platitudes from the cartoon character we came to call “Cliché’vry Johnson’’ were empty to some of his players, even the many who love him.

MEDIA-ALLY WHISPERING: In what is either a clumsy political attempt to gain PR clout or just something clumsy, period, Johnson had made a habit of whispering to media confidants about the shortcomings of his stars. It’s bad form, it’s disloyal, and it is difficult to keep that sort of thing from caroming back in one’s face. Jason Kidd has definitely been a victim of this (intentional or not) back-stabbing. Dirk Nowitzki has probably been a victim of it. The phrase "thrown under the bus'' become trite in DB.com readers' circles, but it was accurate enough.

WHERE’S WESTPHAL?: Paul Westphal was brought here this year to help with the offense. Insiders suggest that Westphal has been allowed to make virtually no changes in Dallas’ attack.

CREDIT AND BLAME: Avery has an annoying habit of taking credit for the successes and deflecting blame to the players upon failure. When speaking of Dirk’s success, for instance, Avery’s comments were about how well Avery had guided Dirk. And when asked what Avery could do better during a tough time in the postseason, Johnson was sarcastic is saying he’s accept all blame, but then added a “but’’ and went on to say it’s about the players performing at a higher level.

‘AVERY’S SYSTEM’: Another important example to some staffers: Avery tells anyone who will listen about his “system.’’ In fact, the “Mavs System’’ – while obviously influenced by three-plus years of Avery’s thoughts -- is the result of 40 years of labor by Don Nelson, Del Harris and others, endorsed by Cuban and Don Nelson, and by now a component in the teachings of most NBA and college coaches. It is not “Avery’s System’’ because there is in fact no such thing as “Avery’s System.’’

RE-WIRING: Avery’s attempts to make Dirk “more Duncan-like’’ (a phrase used derisively by Mavs staffers) and to “re-wire’’ Kidd (Kidd’s own words) speak to the coach’s mindset: Mold star athletes around the coach’s style and strengths, rather than molding the coach around the star athletes’ style and strengths.

WE LOVE AVERY, BUT. …’: This quote from one chuckling veteran: “We love Avery. But 80 percent of the time, we have no idea what he’s trying to do.’’

THE ONE-VOICE POLICY: We are told that at one point during the season Avery became so irritated at the number of assistants who were offering ideas to players during practice that the head coach instituted a “one-voice’’ policy. And that the “one voice’’ was to be, of course, Avery’s.

THE PLAYERS-ONLY BLOWUP: Any one of those could be a justifiable last straw. But then came this week’s players-only practice, and the apparent blowup that preceded it.

As DallasBasketball.com initially reported, Josh Howard had scheduled a birthday party for Sunday night, after Game 4 against the Hornets. This was not news to us, this was not news to our readers, this was not news to listeners of “urban’’ radio. … but it was apparently news to “The General,’’ who prides himself on his relationships and communications with his players.

Howard, very much in the spotlight last weekend thanks to his public pronouncements of Reefer Madness, should’ve been the most important member of the Mavs to receive guidance and attention. How, given the circumstance, could the team let this goofball escape over the wall? Instead, we understand that Avery learned of details of the party (likely attended by a handful of teammates) too late, and that his reaction contributed to his angry decision to cancel Monday’s potentially final practice of the season. (Note: Some gossip has it that Avery knew about the party in advance and ordered it be cancelled. Neither version of the story makes Avery appear to be a respected boss in charge of his employees.)

Howard screwed up. Again.

Avery blew up. Again.

The players decided to practice on their own (imagine an NFL team not practicing before the Super Bowl because its coach was bothered!). And Avery’s comments that afternoon about the session were dismissive.

“We're in a situation right now where I don't know if we need another drill,’’ he said.

“Dismissive’’? “Pouty’’? The exact opposite of “communication’’ and “leadership’’ and “motivation’’? You (and Mark Cuban) be the judge.

Please note that none of the aforementioned items even approach being about X’s-and-O’s, about benching Kidd in the final seconds of the loss at San Antonio, about Avery’s assemblage of thirty-something “pets’’ who on a whole made few contributions to one of the worst overall seasons experienced in the highly-successful Cuban Era. None of them are even about wins and losses, the recent 3-12 playoff record, for instance – even though Avery struggles in all these areas.

No, these complaints are about dealing with people, about motivation, about relationships, about communication.

Avery Johnson’s 2006 Coach of the Year trophy casts a large shadow. Paired with his ego, that shadow has wilted all those areas that were once his blossoming strengths.

So is Avery a bad apple? Are his players a spoiled bushel?

No, and no.

It is so important to remind the reader that the players’ inability or unwillingness to follow their leader is in part the fault of a coach who has not developed in those areas. But it is also the result of human nature. In coaching history, smart organizations replace an avuncular-style coach with a taskmaster, and then replace the taskmaster with an avuncular guy. (See Jimmy Johnson being replaced by Barry Switzer, and then later, Bill Parcells being replaced by Wade Phillips.) Under the avuncular guy, discipline eventually slips, and it’s time for a taskmaster. After four or five years (according to Jimmy) players cannot help but tune out the taskmaster, and it’s time for a cyclical change.

True story: Old Cowboys linemen Nate Newton and the late Mark Tuinei were telling me all the way back in 1993 – Jimmy’s fifth season, not coincidentally – that during team meetings, the veterans would fall asleep in meetings and skip pep talks altogether. “We’ve heard the same speech every August 17th for five straight August 17ths,’’ Tui once told me, adding that the Pro Bowl lineman also passed the time by sitting in the back of meeting rooms with the fellas doodling in the margins of the Cowboys playbook. (I saw the doodles.)

When did Jimmy leave the Cowboys? After that 1993 season. Why? Contrary to those who think it’s Jerry Jones’ fault, Jimmy left on purpose. He knew the guys were failing to pay attention. He knew they were sick of his voice. He knew that what they had there was. … a failure to communicate.

He knew.

Remember? It was his fifth season.

Now, the question is: Does Avery know?

Does Avery know that it’s time for the Mavs to negotiate a departure, to wish him well elsewhere, and to begin the contemplation of a long list of candidates?

By the way, what a long (and very preliminary) list might look like: Mavs assistant Mario Elle, Jeff Van Gundy, Boston assistant Tom Thibodeaux, Detroit’s Flip Saunders, Rick Carlisle, fired Bobcats coach Sam Vincent, Phoenix’ reportedly available Mike D’Antoni and Washington’s Eddie Jordan, who happens to be a “Kidd guy.’’

The experienced of those guys might not be available. The young among them might be too Avery-green.

If you believe us when we say this organization believes it provided Avery “the best team we’ve ever had,’’ don’t dismiss the idea of a short-and-quick list: Head coach Paul Westphal, with his suitcase of offensive ideas still unopened, assisted by the suddenly re-respected Del Harris.

After the Mavs were eliminated, Dirk, Stack and other team leaders could not avoid the obvious question of their coach’s future.

Said Dirk: “You don't want to say stuff when you're emotional and disappointed. We'll just let this one sit for a while and then obviously, once you don't win it all, once you don't win a championship, you've always got to look at what you have to do to make the franchise better.’’

Said Stack: “We've had a great run with this group. But when you lose in the first round two years in a row, you expect some changes. We're all hired to be fired at some point. … They all see the end. … We'll wait and see what the boss (Cuban) does. No matter what happens or what changes are made. … for the last four years, it's been a great situation for everybody that's involved. So if this is the end or whatever, you can't do nothing but say we had our chance. Had our opportunity.’’

Meanwhile, the passionate Cuban wisely did not engage with reporters.

Johnson, however, did.

“Our offseason has started,” Avery said. “We will evaluate everybody and every situation from the coaching staff and the players. (Cuban) and I have great communication and we’ll sit down and talk about it, and see what we need to do to go from here.”

What we need to do to go from here is apparent. The Mavs season shouldn’t have been all about the coach, but he made it so. Now the Mavs offseason is all about the coach. And in a way befitting a control freak, he made that so, too.





- And then a post-firing press conference analysis. More lies, more backtracking, more contradictory comments. Once again, a brilliant piece from DallasBasketball.com.



The Miracle Worker

Avery Leaves 'Suite' Life With Mavs
By Mike Fisher -- DB.com


I came to the Ritz-Carlton to praise Avery, not to bury him. But as the departing Mavs coach exited through the lobby and retreated to the Suite 1402 that is his temporary home, I leafed through my notebook full of “goodbye’’ quotes and realized there was no praise I could offer him that Avery hadn’t just spent the morning giving himself.

Honest to God, I recognize that before we do as Avery instructs and “turn the page,’’ we should honor the man who helped us to a 67-win season, and to an NBA Finals appearance, and – Avery’s words again – “changed the culture’’ of the once-woeful Mavs.

It’s all true. Avery was an important leader during the Mavs’ charge toward the top.

And if you don’t believe how important he was. … just ask him.

It is indeed a “suite’’ life. Avery appreciatively bids Dallas – “a city that’s one of the major cities in all of the world’’ – with what a massive severance check. (At least $12 mil? Or, given Tony Cubes’ famous generosity, could it be a check for $360,000,000,000?) He is the owner of his pad just up the street from American Airlines Center (it’s a two-bedroom, 2,700 square-foot piece of real-estate heaven worth $2.09 mil if you’re in the market). The owner and the rest of the Mavs are all trying to say the right things as their old coach considers what he insists can be an immediate move, if he wishes, to a new club. (If not New York, maybe Chicago, where there are already an-interview-is-coming sources?)

Avery tried to say the right things, too. He thanked “all of our players that put on a Maverick uniform,’’ and all the staffers, and the fans, and said “I want to thank Mark for taking a shot and a swing on me four years ago as an assistant, to think enough of me to bring me in immediately, he and Nellie, to make me an assistant head coach without any experience. I’ve enjoyed my time here working with Mark. We had a lot of great moments. And we had a lot of fun.’’

There is no denying that. Cuban and Nellie handed Avery the baton, and he ran with it like his hair was afire. He coached like that, too, and there is no truly shame in a driving style, a 100-MPH/24/7 style, that inevitably runs out of gas.

There is some shame, though, in continuing his efforts to revise history, to attempt to escape blame for failures, and to try to sell the successes as the result of the coach’s individual brilliance.

I’ll try to quit judging now. I’ll let Avery talk. You judge. I’ll nudge.

Avery on this year’s team: “This year’s team? It was a miracle we made the playoffs.’’

And there’s the money shot of the day: Avery Johnson is. … “The Miracle Worker.’’

Avery on the 67-win team: “When we won 67 games, that team significantly, significantly overachieved.’’

More miracles. Are you sensing a theme here?

Avery on bad decisions: “We can get up every morning and look ourselves in the mirror, every player that played, coach, and also myself. We can look ourselves in the mirror and really be proud of what we took over when we took over this team and the direction we went in. We can feel very proud of what we did, each and every day. Every decision that I had a chance to be a part of, I can really feel good about it.’’

Proud of every decision he was part of. (And, of course, not so proud of the ones he wasn’t a part of.)

Every. Single. Decision.

That’s one proud son of a gun.

Avery on his organizational know-how: “I think in terms of what I came from a blueprint of what I knew how an organization should be run from top to bottom; I knew what type of players should be drafted, free-agent signings, how the coach should function. I had a really good blueprint with all my successful years down south (as a player with the Spurs). And we were able to come here and really make some headway. We were able to change the culture and attitude. ‘’

Avery on this being a “results-driven business’’: We got the results that we wanted in terms of when we made it to the Finals. Now once you make it to the Finals, one of two teams are going to win, but this organization had never made it there before, so that was a pretty good result.’’

Avery on whether this year he had everything in place to succeed: “No, not this year. This is a different team. Before we made the trade, we had the best record against the Western Conference and one of the things that I talked to Mark and Donnie about, I said: ‘Hey, I’ve got to get a point guard.’ That’s why I wanted to develop Devin Harris.’ I said ‘I’ve got to get this boy to a point where he can be a scorer first and pass some. We got him to a point, like I told you guys before, we were knocking on the door with this young man making the All-Star team. He was going to be an 18-and-8 player. I invested a significant amount of time with him and, again, he was injured and a lot of things were happening around the NBA, and like I said, if we can just hold on a little while, we’ve got the best record against the West. I think we were second or third in the Western Conference at that point and we were going to play the Western Conference quite a bit after the All-Star break. The team was changed and we never really got back on track.’’

Seems pretty clear. Avery is claiming he was 100-percent against acquiring Kidd, 100-percent for handing the reins to Devin. And that the Kidd deal ruined Avery’s blueprint.

Wow. He's lying. The Triangle of Authority made it "unanimous,'' says Donnie, who wasn't trying to be argumentative but rather was simply answering a Randy Galloway question. Truth is, to my knowledge, the other two points on the triangle NEVER forced on the coach a player he did not want. NEVER.

Avery, when asked if he’d like to clarify: “We not here for slamming anybody’s name through the mud. … Whatever happened, I think my name is on record with the organization as what I wanted to do.’’

As a matter of fact, Avery’s in-house position is very clear to those in the know. Although the record might have gotten stained after having been “slammed through the mud.’’

I will add, as a sidebar: When Avery’s potential future employers are digging around. … and they call Donnie, or Keith Grant, or Dirk. … and they ask them whether Avery is telling the truth about his supposed don’t-trade-for-Kidd views. … I wonder what they’ll say? And I wonder what the prospective employer will think?

“The Miracle Worker’’ with more offerings on this year’s club: “I feel proud about what we’ve done here, contrary to popular belief. We were a seventh-seed this year that was anywhere from a seventh to a ninth seed, could have been a 10th seed with this particular team. We weren’t quick. We just didn’t have what it takes to compete against some of the teams in the Western Conference. It is what it is.’’

Only a bit confusing. Avery’s “seven-seed’’ should have been a 10th seed. … but at the same time, “It is what it is’’?

And more, on whether Avery got all he could from this year’s team: “Oh, yes. Absolutely. And more. Yes. Yes. Yes.’’

Avery on whether the team tuned him out: “Absolutely. Yeah, absolutely. When that happens, then sometimes you need a new voice. It's not that I'm cool with it or I'm not resilient or I'm not disappointed. But this is a part of coaching. Because of that, I've said it all the time. Coaches, we're going to resign or we're going to get fired. Now, whatever words we try to use, that's what happens.’’

I feel absolved. More immediately important to the Mavs in the last two months than Avery’s assorted flaws is this issue, which has little to do with his personality or his strategies: Players eventually tune out coaches. It’s not a coaching crime. It’s cyclical. I’ve tried to explain that my view on this subject is not an attack on Coach, but rather a fact I’ve seen up-close in 28 years of study. Avery said it better than I have.

More on the cycle, and how it has nothing to do with ownership: “I'm proud of my working relationship with Mark. I'm proud of it. We've had moments behind the scenes where we've talked about management styles, vision and I've learned a whole heck of a lot from Mark. I don’t have anything but great things to say (about Cuban). There were 29 other owners in the NBA and nobody else gave me my first shot but him. Did we have some rough periods? Absolutely. Am I proud that we were able to get through those rough periods? Yes, I am.

“(Coaching changes are) going to happen at some point, whether it was five years down the line or yesterday. … All coaches either get fired or resign.’’

Avery on whether he’s already fielded calls from interested teams: “Yes!’’

That’s grand, and I believe as with most guys, they will be better on their second go-round. “I won’t try to do 200 different things on the first day of training camp,’’ Avery said, in a rare moment of genuine self-reflection.

A cautionary note: The buzz suggests that Avery is a candidate for openings with the Bulls and Knicks. (And if Avery is telling the truth about getting multiple calls, he’s almost certainly talking about those positions.) I wrote on Wednesday that if Avery thinks the DFW media represents “Poisonous Journalism,’’ he ain’t seen nothin’ ‘til he loses three straight games in Chicago and New York.

I just realized this, for people (maybe Avery included) who think Cuban was a demanding, involved boss? In addition to the fact that I APPLAUD Cuban’s passionate involvement. …

Chicago’s owner is Jerry Reinsdorf. New York’s owner is James Dolan.

I’m telling you, Avery’s existence in Dallas was more “suite’’ than he knows.

Avery on the times when the team did listen to him: “Whatever strategies we tried, they really bought into them -- even if they were bad strategies. Because I've had one (bad strategy) in four years.’’

There were a lot of folks assembled at the press conference. The media came out in full force; when the Ritz-Carlton staff saw most of us unkempt hacks slogging in, they surely assumed we should be entering through the service door, or were maybe begging for dumpster-stored kitchen scraps.

There were also a handful of emotional staffers who came three blocks up from the gym to say their goodbyes, including assistant Popeye Jones, broadcaster Laura (Mrs. Joe Prunty) Green, equipment man Al Whitley, trainer Casey Smith and the hard-working PR people. (I thought a number of The Lil’ General’s admiring enlisted men were conspicuous in their absence, but I’m cynical that way. I might even kid that if they had shown up and said anything to Avery, it’d be the first time all year he let most of them speak).

And when Coach drawled out the “one bad strategy’’ line, we all chuckled. Avery – in so many ways the most successful coach the Dallas Mavericks have ever employed-- had made a funny.

A self-effacing joke.

At least I think it was a joke.