No one ever played the game of basketball any better than Larry Bird; not Michael Jordan, Oscar Robertson, Magic Johnson, Jerry West. Nobody.
The thing was, he was like DiMaggio in baseball. When the ball came down, Joe was under it. So was Bird. He was always in the right place at the right time. Never out of position. And when he had the ball, you had two--or three--points. When he was at the line, forget it. He made 319 of 343 free throws one season. In the playoffs one year, he made 101 of 109. Don't foul him. You might as well let him shoot. It's at least two any way you look at it.
He couldn't jump much. He didn't have to. He wasn't fast, but he was as quick as a Times Square pickpocket. He stole 1,556 balls in his career, all-time tops for a Boston Celtic.
So, you would know from all the foregoing that he couldn't possibly be a good coach. You know how that works. Great players have no patience to become great mentors. They can't deal with mediocrity.
Great managers and coaches know they have to. They come from the ranks of the less skilled themselves. They know what it takes to succeed when you don't have all that God-given talent. They're understanding, patient, sympathetic. Great generals know they don't have an army of superheroes.
A Babe Ruth could never be a manager, for instance. Because he'd be apt to say to a player, "Why don't you just go up there and hit a home run? That's what I'd do here."
Ted Williams tried managing but probably could never understand why his hitters swung at so many pitches that weren't strikes.
A Ben Hogan might say to a protege, "Why don't you hit your drive over there on the right 11 feet from that oleander. That's the short way to hole."
Great fighters never make great managers. The Four Horsemen tried coaching with only mediocre results.
So, when the Indiana Pacers hired Larry Bird before this season, it was assumed it was for his marquee value. Like a lightning rod, he would draw attention away from his underachieving squad, fill some seats from a sentimental point of view. He probably would run screaming for the exits before the year was out with this talent. Larry Bird wasn't coaching Larry Birds.
But this Bird is an eagle.
You see, Bird was used to being underrated. When he first came into the league, he was kind of this "Hick from French Lick." He was a guy who had tried going to Indiana University but couldn't stand crowds, so he enrolled at smaller, more bucolic Indiana State. He led the Sycamores to an undefeated regular season and a berth in the NCAA championship game.
