In my early-morning dream Thursday, one of Larry Brown's idols, Red Holzman, was named coach of an NBA team of undisclosed identity, though we can venture an educated guess as to which one it was. I'm serious about this. On a platform stage, holding a ball, there was the late, great Holzman, with that trademark wry smile, stonewalling his way through another interview, as was his wont throughout his career.
Subconsciously, it seems that I want to tell Brown he could do much worse than to emulate Holzman, who, like Brown, was born in Brooklyn, lived on Long Island and established indisputable Hall of Fame coaching credentials by preaching defense and sharing the ball.
Unlike Brown, Holzman just wasn't too interested in sharing with reporters his deep, dark thoughts about his least favorite players. Brown thinks Stephon Marbury is such a nightmare to coach? He should have tried, all at once, Ray Williams, Sly Williams and Micheal Ray Richardson.
And still, Holzman, who won championships with upstanding citizens like Bill Bradley and Willis Reed, wouldn't budge, wouldn't lash out for the back page.
"Boy, are you in trouble," he'd say when, as a young beat reporter for the New York Post, I would call late at night, fishing for material. He knew desperation when he smelled it.
Even when the aforementioned knuckleheads deserved public scorn, Holzman resisted. When they sent him to his permanent retirement after the 1981-1982 season, he answered a request to talk about the season's saboteurs by saying, "Maybe another time." But with perfect comic timing, he suggested we not hold our breath.
Remember when the Knicks hired Brown last summer, and so much was made of his coming home to embrace the Holzman legacy? That day, I pointed out that Brown -- if only stylistically -- was actually the anti-Red.
Holzman was a Madison Square Garden lifer because he was religiously tight-lipped, a classic backroom operator. As for Brown, it was not terribly difficult to foresee a stormy first season, given the state of the team and the emotions he has always worn on those well-starched sleeves.
The best-dressed man in the house has never been the prototypical corporate animal. Or as Brown said Thursday, as he explained his motivation for engaging Marbury in an entertaining but embarrassing spitball fight this week, "You ask me a question, I try to answer it honestly."
That simple? Perhaps in the NFL, where contracts are not guaranteed. In the NBA, where the vested and empowered player roams, the long-term fallout from such a feud isn't likely to make a bad situation such as this one any better, only worse.
"I regret what's happened, but it's over," Brown said.
Not likely. As detentes go, the one declared Thursday by Brown and to a lesser extent by Marbury sounded flimsier than a single-digit Knicks lead in the fourth quarter.
Marbury seemed to think that Brown, who initiated the dialogue before practice, was more interested in letting him know who's boss. He said Brown played his "juice card," informing him that "he could do whatever he wants with the franchise," while conceding that Brown did say it wasn't his intention to trade him.
Did Marbury believe Brown? "I have no comment to that," he said.
Brown then said he also told Marbury he was pleased that Marbury didn't sulk when benched with the rest of the starters for the climax of the Knicks' victory over Atlanta Wednesday night. But he cautioned reporters against characterizing the talk as a significant meeting to clear the air.
"It wasn't real long," Brown said. "Thirty seconds."
The Israelis and the Palestinians can hold the occasional summit meeting, but half a minute is the best Brown and Marbury can do after days of unrest?
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