On this day, we all cry with Kirilenko, Part IV

He looks lost, barely a shell of what once was. There are glimpses of the man at full strength, but most of the time when you look into his eyes the message is clear: the best days are behind him.

That’s right, I’m talking about Jerry Sloan.

Facial expressions indicating deep contemplative thought were never his forte, it is true. However, these days when you look at the Jazz bench there is an old man staring off into space. A grandpa figure who looks like he’d rather be watching the game at home in a Lazboy, chuckling at the “Road Redwood” furniture ads and taking the occasional pipe break on the porch of his Evansville farmhouse.[1]

I’m not saying this to be mean, really I’m not. It just looks like it is finally time for Sloan to call it a day.

Listen, we’ve all tried to come up with some pretty fantastical explanations for his choice of playing Harpring over Kirilenko, Fisher over Brewer, Collins over the ball boy…but Occam’s razor must apply here: he is simply not paying attention.

Sloan’s brain is working at about 40 percent capacity, due to equal parts obstinacy and exhaustion. Since the 12-1 start, Sloan’s appetite for development has become progressively smaller. You can tell from the circles under his eyes that staying awake is no longer easy.

I know what happens to me when I’m hungry and tired, key premises of daily life escape me. The need for sleep and a full stomach cloud my vision. I’m awake but I don’t trust my own judgment. I’m a stranger on a distant beach capable of shooting an Arab…or, in this case, playing Derek Fisher at shooting guard.

As fellow humans we ought to cut him a little slack, but we won’t because he’s a public figure. We’re Americans, so we’ll rip him to pieces and pee on the remains.

It is clear Sloan is telling the truth, when he says, “I’m not a mood coach, I’m not equipped to deal with that.” We should give him credit for admitting as much, but the modern NBA coach needs to be capable of handling such complicated detail-oriented tasks as “motivation.”

Sloan should take a few mouthfuls of the sour liquid he insists his players swallow, I think its called “responsibility.” Today, basketball is a billionaire enterprise and coaching includes psychological, emotional, and maybe even new age non-denominational spiritual preparation.[2]

You can call Dr. Phil a fraud (I do all the time) but he has struck a chord with the way many people feel, and that is lonely. In America these days, people are consumed by a dread that there is nowhere to turn. As such, they respond better to touchy feely, than they do to fix-it-yourself-you-maggot drill sergeant impersonators.

In the Tribune, Sloan admitted he, “probably hasn’t gotten [Kirilenko] into a position where he’s as comfortable as he would like to be.” Sloan also admits, shamelessly, he has had only minimal communication with Andrei since he complained in mid-season that he didn’t understand his role.

Masha Kirilenko suggested part of the problem might be her husband’s less-than-complete command of the English language. An interesting prospect, indeed.[3] Andrei’s wife thinks an interpreter might solve some of the communication issues.

Unfortunately, Masha, you are assuming good faith on the part of Sloan. No matter what language Andrei uses, the lines of communication are not open. When asked why he won’t design a system catered to AK’s talents, Sloan has reacted like his 10-year-old child just asked why the neighbors dogs are “stuck together.”

I don’t have time for any of that rigamarole! Figure it out yourself, son. My way, or the highway. You don’t like it? Find yourself another place to cry. These shoulders weren’t made for tear drying… Bruising, Andrei. These shoulders were made for bruising.

A player’s input is not welcome in Sloan’s coaching world. Authority must be total at all times. Questions are the equivalent of challenging the judgment of the great John Deere himself.

Jerry, you want to know what you gotta love, or leave? — Modernity, baby. If you shun the world, it shuns you back. The old must make way for the new. It’s simply the law of give and take. In Jerry speak, “that’s just the way it goes.”

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[1] A fantasy soon to be a reality?

[2] Think Phil Jackson.

[3] Crazy enough, my niece is in the same pre-school as Fyodor, Andrei’s son. Fyodor barely speaks English. The poor teacher has to spend half of the class time making hand gestures to explain to this nine-foot tall six-year-old what is going on. The Kirilenko family’s commitment to American assimilation is less than 100 percent, and as you know. .. in America everything must be super-sized 110 percent!