The deeper the Lakers advance in the playoffs, the closer they move to another championship, the more the fading memory of Rudy Tomjanovich's brief, blighted tenure as their coach threatens to vanish altogether.
It was but a blip anyway, the championship-pedigreed former Houston Rockets coach hired to shepherd the Lakers into the post-Shaquille O'Neal, post-Phil Jackson era, only to be waylaid by health issues midway through the 2004-05 season and resigning only seven months after taking the job.
Nearly 3 1/2 years ago, in February 2005, Tomjanovich walked away from a five-year, $30-million contract, citing mental and physical fatigue and saying that, a year after beating bladder cancer, he had returned to coaching too soon.
"As tough as it was on us, obviously it was tougher on him," Kobe Bryant said later. "I didn't want to see any man go through that."
Tomjanovich quietly drifted into the shadows, his 24-19 record all but forgotten, but he never stopped working for the Lakers. The former coach, 59, is a scout, spends long hours studying film and splits his time between Beverly Hills and Houston so evenly that, when asked which he considers home, the Michigan native says, "That's up for debate. I love the weather out here." Answering to General Manager Mitch Kupchak, he says he has filed reports on every NBA player.
He and wife Sofia, the former cheerleader he married 38 years ago, recently moved into a house not far from Jack Nicholson's.
And he feels great.
"I've been living a pretty good life and really my body probably feels better now than it did when I was in my late 30s and 40s," Tomjanovich says over lunch at a Santa Monica eatery. "I used to hit it pretty hard."
In addition to surviving cancer and overcoming life-threatening head injuries suffered when he was punched by the Lakers' Kermit Washington in an infamous 1977 incident, Tomjanovich has quit alcohol, caffeine and cigarettes. Tanned and appearing rested, he shows up at a Third Street Promenade burger joint in blue shorts, blue golf shirt, blue baseball cap and white sneakers. He orders a veggie burger, French fries and a diet cola.
Recently, he says, he was asked about coaching again. While tempted, he says he dismissed the notion with nary a second thought.
"I love the game, I absolutely love it," he notes. "I love the preparation for games, I love the games themselves. But dealing with the stress -- just the travel alone -- would be too much after the things I've been through. Part of me would like to get that thing stirred up again, but I can't. I just can't do it."
