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Nelson ready to shake up the Warrior

Published: Sunday, September 17, 2006 at 9:49 a.m.
Last Modified: Sunday, September 17, 2006 at 9:49 a.m.

OAKLAND - “I thought you had died,” Don Nelson said to me.

We hadn’t seen each other in several years and now he was Warriors coach again, and I said, “When I die, you’ll be the first person I tell.”

He led me to his office, which used to belong to Eric Musselman, Mike Montgomery and a cast of thousands I’m leaving out. He sat behind his desk. Nelson is a big man, big-limbed, large head. His hair, which used to be blond, has faded and looks pale — pale gold. He is imposing and invites respect, in some cases, awe.

He is 66 and he’s survived prostate cancer, and his wife, Joy, has survived breast cancer. He and Joy have rented the whole top floor of an apartment house near Lake Merritt in Oakland. “My view is 360,” he said. And he also owns a place in Dallas and seven pieces of property in Maui, although he’s in the process of selling one.

He didn’t have to coach, but he needs to coach — craves the action.

“I’m not a big gambler,” he said, “but when I’m playing golf, I like to have a wager where I win or lose a hundred bucks. In professional basketball, I can compete at the highest level in an arena full of people, and nobody dies. I’m living life to the fullest at that moment. I didn’t have that for one year.”

As he spoke, he sometimes looked at me. Other times he read notes on his desk about who had called wanting a job on his coaching staff. He has none to give. I asked how good his team will be, and he said he hated that question. No matter how he answers, he leaves himself open to second-guessing. And then, of course, he answered.

“I think the team has to show me why it’s not good.”

He assumes the team is good until proven wrong.

“We are not a title contender,” he said, “but we can start the process.”

Now he was rolling. He was talking ball and his eyes were blazing and he laid out his plans for specific players. Like power forward Troy Murphy.

“He’s a skill player who rebounds. He’ll achieve career highs for me — 10 rebounds, 20 points. He’s difficult to guard. I’ll move him to center, and I don’t know which centers can guard him. We’ve got to agree to it — otherwise it won’t work. If he says ‘I’m not a center,’ like Chris Webber did, it won’t work.”

I interrupted Nelson, couldn’t help myself.

“Can Murphy guard centers?”

“No,” Nelson shot back. “He can’t guard forwards, either. We’ll give him help.”

He moved on to Mike Dunleavy.

“He’ll have his best years for me. He’s a natural four, not a three.”

Nelson meant he’s a power forward and not a small forward, which is unusual considering Dunleavy has the tensile strength of a feather.

“He won’t have to worry about guarding smaller guys,” Nelson said. “I see him as a unique piece, a point power forward running my team.”

Running your team?

“Sure. I can’t name another point power forward in the league. He’ll take the ball out of Baron Davis’ hands some. Just in the half court. I don’t want Baron giving up the ball and never getting it back. I want Baron to catch.”

And then he was onto Davis himself. It is said Davis didn’t respect Montgomery and would walk by him without saying hello. He also has a tendency to arrive in camp looking like Willie the Whale.

“I haven’t talked to him yet,” Nelson said. “I want the players to come in 5 pounds lighter than their lightest weight. Adonal Foyle is 27 pounds overweight. He’s immediately gone to the third team. You need to run and move in my system.”

Now that Nelson is coach, Foyle, who has no offensive game, is through. He’ll sit at the end of the bench reading Tolstoy. Nelson got back to Davis, said losing weight will help him avoid injury — the guy always gets hurt.

“He’ll be All-Star caliber again.”

OK, you get the picture. The Warriors will be a small, fast team. They will be difficult to guard because, like Nelson himself, they will be eccentric. It’s not clear, on the other hand, if they can guard other teams.

I changed the subject. I said everyone calls Nelson “Nellie.” I asked him to describe the difference between Don Nelson and Nellie. He smiled. He leaned back in his chair and thought a moment.

“Nellie is a fun-loving guy,” he said. “You’d love to have a drink with him and play golf with him and all that. That side of me carries into my professional life and practices. I am fun-loving, and I like my players relaxed. Don Nelson is a serious guy. He will get into you in a minute if you don’t do what you’re supposed to do. The head coach, that’s Don Nelson. Nellie ain’t the head coach.”

“Nellie isn’t the head coach,” I repeated.

“Ain’t,” he corrected me.

Nellie is a hick. Don Nelson is a shrewd operator. Nellie is the appearance. Don Nelson is the reality. The Warriors hope there’s enough Don Nelson left to lead this team to the playoffs.


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