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      How Pat Riley Quit on the Knicks

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      In a book excerpt, a writer details the Knicks’ infighting and the tense contract negotiations that led Coach Pat Riley to leave for the Miami Heat in 1995.The following are excerpts from “Blood in the Garden: The Flagrant History of the 1990s New York Knicks” by Chris Herring. They have been edited and condensed. The book was released Tuesday. Herring is a senior writer at Sports Illustrated.The infighting within the Knicks’ locker room seemed to be catching up with them.Perhaps it was the stress of getting so close — one win away from the 1994 N.B.A. championship, before a crushing Game 7 loss to Houston — only to watch it all slip away. Or perhaps it was the new campaign getting off to a rocky start, with a pedestrian 12-12 mark by Christmas and a five-game losing streak — their longest in Coach Pat Riley’s four years there.Whatever the reason, the squabbles were apparent.In early December, Riley got into it with the veteran guard Doc Rivers, with the men loudly trading expletives in Riley’s office during a spat over Rivers’s role. The argument ended with Rivers asking Riley to release him from the team.During a separate standoff that month, Riley’s two best players, Patrick Ewing and John Starks, traded barbs in Atlanta after Ewing declined to pass to an open Starks, drawing his ire.When Starks yelled at Ewing, Ewing snarled back, essentially telling Starks to know his place. The blowup was a breaking point, as Starks felt teammates had frozen him out of the offense during his recent slump. And while some players felt Riley had previously given Starks too much leash to shoot, no one felt that way after the loss to the Hawks.“Who are you to ever question anyone’s shot selection?” Riley screamed at Starks inside the visiting locker room. “Did anyone here ever say a word to you about [Game 7]?” The coach was referring to Starks’s disastrous 2-for-18 showing against Houston in the finals.Starks, almost in tears during the dressing-down, would be benched the following game.But deep down, Riley was the one beginning to feel distant. And change felt inevitable.‘He went quiet on us’Dave Checketts, left, the former president of Madison Square Garden, and former Knicks General Manager Ernie Grunfeld, right, discuss the resignation of Pat Riley on June 15, 1995.Marty Lederhandler/Associated PressDuring that last week of December, Riley gave his players time off from the grind. He took time for himself, too, chartering a jet on New Year’s Eve to Aspen, Colo., to visit Dick Butera, a longtime friend and wealthy real estate developer.Riley had a weighty issue to discuss. “I don’t know if this [situation with the Knicks] is going to work out,” Riley told Butera and other friends while at the developer’s home.As Riley dropped his bombshell, Butera countered with one: He and a group of deep-pocketed acquaintances planned to make a run at buying the Miami Heat. Riley said he’d consider being the team’s coach, Butera said.With a contract extension offer from the Knicks already in hand, Riley was far from desperate. But knowing he had a friend with a decent chance of purchasing a team may have emboldened him in his dealings with the Knicks. In January, after the Aspen trip, he sent a counteroffer to the Knicks, asking for a stake in ownership and a promotion to team president. These asks — which Riley said would assuage his concerns about the Knicks’ frequent ownership changes — were in addition to the $3 million salary New York had already offered.In late January, Riley met with Rand Araskog, the chief executive of ITT, which controlled 85 percent of the Madison Square Garden properties. (Cablevision owned 15 percent.) Garden president Dave Checketts gave Araskog a heads-up that Riley would likely request a 10 or 20 percent share of the Knicks as part of his extension.“I have to discuss something with you,” Riley said, pulling out a leather briefcase to talk numbers. Before he got another word out, Araskog stopped him. The answer was no.Riley pursed his lips. “I’m sorry to hear that. But I understand,” he said, declining to press the issue. The meeting concluded shortly after.“He went quiet on us after that,” Checketts says. “He’d only talk basketball with us.”‘I’m finished in New York’In “Blood in the Garden,” Chris Herring reported that Riley wanted an ownership stake in the Knicks as part of a contract extension but was denied.Ron Frehm/Associated PressIt was mid-February 1995, the first game after the All-Star break, and the Knicks were getting drilled on the road by a Detroit club 12 games under .500. By halftime, they trailed by 25. A red-faced Riley responded by punching a hole in the visiting locker room’s blackboard.The team’s play that night wasn’t all that was bothering Riley. Butera had just been informed he wouldn’t be getting the Miami Heat. “He’d kept telling me, ‘I’ll definitely come with you if you can buy the Heat,’ ” Butera recalled.But even after that plan fell through, a different opportunity remained.That same month, Micky Arison, chairman of Carnival Cruise Lines, took over as the majority owner of the Heat, and had a series of calls with Butera, phone records would later show. And while it’s not clear what was discussed — Butera denied Riley was the topic of conversation — it wasn’t long after that Arison sought to meet Riley when the Knicks were in town.On the morning of Feb. 16, Arison, who’d grown up a Knicks fan, arrived at Miami Arena early. He waited in a corridor that led to the court, wanting to watch the Knicks’ shootaround. Riley was fiercely competitive and private, so no, Arison couldn’t stay.“I was curious, based on his reputation,” Arison said. “The fact that he refused? I respected it.”But as Riley prepared to leave with his players, the new owner was standing at the exit. He pulled Riley aside, asking if he could talk with him for a few minutes.Arison’s persistence stopped Riley in his tracks. Since he’d taken the Knicks job, Riley had prioritized loyalty. The idea of being all the way in, or all the way out. Riley didn’t believe in fraternizing with anyone outside the team. So could he really agree to meet with Arison now, after a team workout, just hours before a game?Surprisingly, Riley nodded. Yes, he’d meet with Arison in the tunnel.But just for a few minutes.Arison didn’t need long, though. All he needed to know was that Riley was open to a conversation — one they could presumably finish at a later point.That point came in May, after the Knicks suffered a bitter Game 7 loss to Reggie Miller and the Indiana Pacers in the Eastern Conference semifinals. Maybe an hour after the Knicks’ season ended, Butera’s phone rang. It was Riley.The Indiana Pacers pile on Reggie Miller after they defeated the Knicks in Game 7 of the 1995 Eastern Conference semifinals.Nathaniel S. Butler/NBAE via Getty Images“Are you still friendly with the guy who owns the Heat?” he asked Butera.“Yeah, I am. He’s a good guy. Why?”“Because I’m done. I’m just done,” Riley responded. “All I can tell you is, I’m finished in New York.”Butera wanted more detail. The agitated tone in Riley’s voice suggested something aside from the defeat itself had taken place. And Butera could hear noise in the background of the call. So he asked Riley where he was calling from — especially while discussing such a potentially explosive subject.“I’m calling you from my cellphone. I’m on the team bus,” Riley said.That struck Butera. Riley was so angry, he didn’t care that he might be within earshot of other people.“Make it happen,” Riley told Butera. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”‘That’s just how Pat is’Riley, left, signed his new contract to be head coach and president of the Miami Heat on Sept. 2, 1995, while Micky Arison looked on.Andy Newman/Associated PressButera met with Arison in Long Beach, Calif., on one of Arison’s cruise ships.“What does he want?” Arison asked.“He wants $50 million for 10 years,” Butera said.Arison laughed. No N.B.A. coach, not even Riley, was making $3 million a year, let alone $5 million. “What does he really want?” Arison asked.Butera reiterated his stance. Riley, already the highest-paid coach in the sport at $1.5 million a season, wanted $50 million over 10 years to run the show for Arison in Miami.Arison sat still for a moment. The asking price was a small fortune. But paying it — and getting perhaps the best coach in basketball to take over a listless organization — could prove worthwhile if Riley turned the Heat into a winner.“OK,” Arison said. “What else does he want to get this done?”Butera and Riley soon compiled a list of asks in a four-page, 14-point memo. Riley wanted an immediate 10 percent ownership of the team and another 10 percent share over the course of his deal. He also wanted Arison to loan him money to pay taxes on the initial 10 percent stake.He also wanted complete control over Miami’s basketball operations, and to be named the team president. Riley wanted Arison to purchase his sprawling homes near Los Angeles and New York City. He wanted a limo service to and from games in Miami. He wanted credit cards and a $300 per diem.Butera took a copy of the memo to Arison at a bar at Los Angeles International Airport on June 5. Arison’s eyes narrowed when he saw the per diem.“He couldn’t understand how someone getting a deal worth tens of millions would ask for such a nickel-and-dime sort of thing,” Butera recalled. “But that’s just how Pat is.”‘Wind this up’Riley had one year left on his contract with the Knicks when he left for the Heat.Robert Sullivan/AFP via Getty ImagesAs Butera and Riley were solidifying things with Arison in early June, Riley’s agent, the Los Angeles attorney Ed Hookstratten, was more than hinting to Checketts that Riley had finished his Knicks career, despite having another year left on his contract.“You and Pat have got to wind this up,” Hookstratten told Checketts during a June 7 meeting in Beverly Hills, urging him to let Riley out of his deal for a clean divorce. But Checketts wanted to talk with Riley.Checketts said when he and Riley met two days later at the coach’s home in Greenwich, Conn., Riley was noncommittal. “I’m having a hard time with [the Indiana] loss,” Riley said. “I’m having a hard time figuring out the extension. I’m having a hard time with all of it.”Checketts backed off, thinking he needed to give Riley space to decide.One day went by. Then a second. And a third. Around then, Riley asked assistant coach Jeff Van Gundy to quietly grab Riley’s things from his office. The following day, June 13, Riley met with his assistants to inform them: He was planning to resign, but wanted them to keep the news private for a few more days, as he wasn’t ready to tell the front office or the media.By June 15, Riley was ready. That day, Ken Munoz, the Knicks general counsel, was in his office when a fax came through his machine. It was a letter from Hookstratten’s law firm.Riley, one of the N.B.A.’s greatest coaches, and the Knicks’ best since Red Holzman, had faxed his resignation.And with that, the man who had taken a 39-win Knicks club and squeezed 51, 60, 57, and 55 victories out of it in four years while coming up just short of a championship was officially out the door.By the time the fax arrived and began making waves throughout the New York media, Riley was at 40,000 feet on a flight to Greece, likely to tune out the noise of the sonic boom he’d just triggered. More

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      FIFA's Best? Pitso Mosimane Doesn't Fit the Model

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      Pitso Mosimane enjoyed a better 2021 than almost any coach in world soccer. Just don’t expect FIFA, or soccer, to notice.Pitso Mosimane has done enough winning in the last year, plus change, to talk about nothing else. In November 2020, only three months after he was appointed manager of the Egyptian club Al Ahly, he won the African Champions League title. He did so by beating Zamalek, Al Ahly’s fiercest rival. The final was cast as the derby of the century. Nobody in Egypt thought it was an exaggeration.Eight months later, he repeated the trick. The calendar contracted and concentrated by the pandemic, Al Ahly returned to the Champions League final in July to face Kaizer Chiefs, the team Mosimane had supported as a child in South Africa. He won again. He was showered with golden ticker tape on the field, then presented with bouquets of roses by government grandees when he returned to Cairo.He places both trophies among his proudest moments as a manager, alongside coaching his country — he was in charge of South Africa for a couple of years after it served as host of the 2010 World Cup — and winning his first continental trophy, with the South African team Mamelodi Sundowns in 2016.And yet Mosimane does not rhapsodize about either victory quite so much as he does the one international tournament in 2021 that he did not win. Between his two triumphs, Mosimane took Al Ahly to Qatar for the Club World Cup. His team was drawn to face Bayern Munich in the semifinals. “They had beaten Barcelona, 8-2,” he said. “I was worried. That was Barcelona with Lionel Messi and Luis Suárez. If they could do that to them, what would they do to us?”He had no need to be concerned. Al Ahly lost, 2-0, but there was no embarrassment, no humiliation. A few days later, in the third-place playoff, Mosimane’s team overcame the South American champion, Palmeiras, to take bronze. “Africa got a medal,” he said. “The year before, it had not won a medal. That, to us, was success.”That it is the third place, not the string of firsts — two Champions Leagues, accompanied by two African Super Cups — that Mosimane lingers on is instructive. It is a reminder that silver and gold are not the only measure of glory in management; achievement is necessarily relative to opportunity.Mosimane said he considered Al Ahly’s third-place finish in the Club World Cup as important as any of its firsts last year.Noushad Thekkayil/EPA, via ShutterstockMosimane, by that gauge, has enjoyed a year that holds up in comparison to any of his peers. He has not, though, been granted the same recognition. When FIFA published its seven-member shortlist for its men’s coach of the year award a few weeks ago, Mosimane — who had lifted three continental honors in 2021 — was not on it.He was not the only notable omission. Abel Ferreira was not there, either, despite going one better than Mosimane and leading Palmeiras to two Copa Libertadores titles in the same calendar year. He did not make the top seven, let alone the top three. Those spots were taken by Thomas Tuchel, Pep Guardiola and Roberto Mancini.The pattern held for the women’s prize, too. Bev Priestman led Canada to an improbable Olympic gold in Tokyo, but she did not make the final cut, overlooked in favor of Lluís Cortés, Emma Hayes and Sarina Wiegman.The connection is not that all of these coaches won major honors: Cortés might have led Barcelona Femení to an emphatic treble and Hayes might have won the Women’s Super League, but Wiegman saw her Dutch team knocked out in the quarterfinals of the Olympics, then left to take charge of England. The link, instead, is that they all work in Europe.The temptation, of course, is to chalk this up to FIFA’s star-dazzled ineptitude and move along. The problem, though, is more deep-seated than that. FIFA does, of course, choose the initial shortlists of candidates for its so-called Best Awards, and it has a tendency to overlook anyone not competing in the most glamorous, most lucrative tournaments in the game.But, occasionally, one slips through. Djamel Belmadi, of Algeria, was nominated in 2019. So, too, were River Plate’s Marcelo Gallardo and Ricardo Gareca, the Argentine in charge of Peru’s national team. Lionel Scaloni, the Argentina coach, was included this year.That none went any further is not just to do with FIFA but with the array of players, coaches, fans and journalists who command a vote on the awards. It is not only the game’s governing body that is in thrall to the famous faces and the glamorous names of the major leagues of western Europe, but the game itself.“It is not only Africa” that is overlooked, Mosimane said. “It is as though it does not mean as much when you win in the competitions that do not generate the most money, that do not have the biggest audiences.”The consequences of that Eurocentrism reach far beyond one prize, one gala. Mosimane was appointed by Al Ahly, at least in part, because the club was “looking for someone who knew Africa, knew the Champions League, had beaten the teams they needed to beat.” His record was impeccable. He was, by some distance, the best man for the job.He landed in Cairo, in September 2020, to be greeted by thousands of fans at the airport; it was then, and only then, that he realized the scale of the job he had taken. “I don’t know if there is another club in the world that has to win everything like Al Ahly does,” he said. “I thought South Africans loved football. But they don’t love it as much as Egyptians do.”In the news media, though, Mosimane detected a note of skepticism. Al Ahly had employed foreign managers before, but they had all been European or South American. He was the first non-Egyptian African to be given the post. “There were people who asked whether I had the credibility to coach the biggest team in Africa and the biggest in the Middle East,” he said.It made sense to him that those doubts proved unfounded. Africa, as Mosimane pointed out, is full of European coaches. They should, really, be at a considerable advantage. Until recently, the African soccer federation, CAF, did not run a formal high-level coaching course, the equivalent of the pro license required of all European managers.Mosimane with Gianni Infantino of FIFA, which has only ever honored Europeans as world coach of the year.Karim Jaafar/Agence France-Presse — Getty ImagesMosimane was one of the first coaches accepted for the inaugural qualification. It was supposed to take six months. Three years later, it has still not finished, only in part because of the pandemic. Meeting European coaches in competition, he said, was the equivalent of “being asked to sit the exam but not being given the books to read.” And still, African coaches still found a way to pass. “When the floors are level, when they are coaching teams with the same quality of player as us, we beat them,” he said.It is small wonder, then, that Mosimane is convinced that if he was put in charge of Barcelona or Manchester City he would “not do too badly.” He is resigned to the fact that he will never find out. If FIFA finds it easy to overlook the success of African coaches, if African clubs are wary of the abilities of African coaches, then there is little hope a team from outside Africa will offer him that sort of chance.Part of that, he is adamant, is to do with the color of his skin. He was pleased to see one of his former players, Bradley Carnell, be appointed coach of St. Louis City S.C. in Major League Soccer. He is proud to see another South African doing well. Carnell does not have a fraction of Mosimane’s experience. “So maybe I could get a job in M.L.S. then?” he said. He did not sound hopeful. Carnell, after all, is white.Europe is more distant still. He has noted the almost complete absence of Black coaches — let alone Black African coaches — in Europe’s major leagues. He has spoken with former players of the highest pedigree who feel they are denied opportunities easily afforded to their white counterparts. “That is the reality,” Mosimane said.That is not to say he does not harbor ambitions. His latest Champions League crown has earned him another tilt at the Club World Cup next month. It is the trophy that he would like to win, with Al Ahly, above all others. “There is nothing left for me to win in Africa,” he said.Once his time in Cairo ends, he would like to try his hand at international management again. The “timing” is not right for South Africa, he said, but perhaps Senegal, Nigeria, Ivory Coast or Egypt might be feasible: one of the continent’s traditional powerhouses.He would cherish the chance to coach the best players in the world in Europe, of course, but he knows soccer has imposed a ceiling between them and him. His ambitions run as high as they can, given the way the world has been constructed around him, one in which opportunity is not always contingent on achievement. More

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      Amir Johnson Is More Than an Answer in N.B.A. Trivia

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      His name was the last on a list that included LeBron James, Kevin Garnett and Kobe Bryant. But his biggest impact on basketball may be yet to come.Amir Johnson felt warm, either from the temperature in the room or the gravity of the moment. He removed his shirt.Johnson stayed nervous throughout N.B.A. draft night in 2005 as hour after hour, pick by pick, slipped past. Instead of planning for prom or making a final decision on his college destination, Johnson, at 18, was studying the television screen at his aunt’s house as his professional future hung in the balance.The N.B.A. draft cut to a commercial as it neared its end. A ticker of draftees’ names continuously sprinted across the bottom of the TV screen. Then someone screamed.The Detroit Pistons had just selected Johnson, out of Westchester High School in Los Angeles, with the fifth-to-last pick, 56th overall.The room, full of Johnson’s relatives and friends, detonated. “We had horns and everything,” Johnson recalled. He tried to stand up, but found his back glued to the plastic smothering his aunt’s couch.Johnson’s journey had started, his dream formulating in fast forward. So what if the Pistons had just defeated his hometown Lakers in the championship? Larry Brown, Detroit’s coach, was on the phone, welcoming Johnson to Detroit. Only a few months earlier, Johnson had committed to play for the University of Louisville, yearning to experience college life outside Southern California.From left, Rasheed Wallace, Will Blalock, Amir Johnson, Antonio McDyess and Jason Maxiell of the Detroit Pistons before a game against the Washington Wizards in October 2006.D. Lippitt/Einstein/NBAE via Getty ImagesThen, Johnson convened with his peers at the McDonald’s All-American Game, an exclusive exhibition for the nation’s best high school players. One by one, the top players confided in the others that they planned to skip college for the N.B.A., following in the trailblazing steps of Kevin Garnett, Kobe Bryant, LeBron James and Dwight Howard.The N.B.A. closed its doors to high school players after Johnson, who was the final high school player drafted before a new collective bargaining agreement rule went into effect requiring that draft-eligible players be at least 19 years old and at least one year removed from high school.“I hope that’s on ‘Jeopardy!’ one day,” Johnson, now 34, said with a smile.The sun is setting on the careers of the prep-to-pro players who both revolutionized and modernized the N.B.A. James, 37, remains the focal point for the Lakers, where he is joined by Howard, who comes off the bench. Atlanta’s Lou Williams is the only other active N.B.A. player who joined the league from high school before the rule changed.“If you’re ready and you got the opportunity to go pro, why not?” Johnson said.When one door closes, another opens — or a few do.Today’s top high school basketball players are presented with a variety of destinations for a gap year on their way to N.B.A. riches and fame. They can opt for the traditional route of college in hopes of a status-boosting N.C.A.A. tournament run. They can play professionally overseas, as LaMelo Ball did before the Charlotte Hornets drafted him in 2020.Or, in a recent change, they can join domestic professional leagues like the Atlanta-based Overtime Elite or a specialized team like the Ignite, an incubating team for high school phenoms in the N.B.A.’s developmental G League that is paying some top players as much as $1 million over two seasons. The Ignite also have a handful of veteran players like Johnson, a good complement — in basketball and life experience — for the burgeoning stars fresh out of high school.Johnson, right, was surprised to find his G League teammates coming to him for advice — and even more surprised that he had answers.Joe Buglewicz for The New York Times“The N.B.A. is a privilege,” said Jason Hart, the Ignite’s coach, who played four seasons at Syracuse before bouncing around the N.B.A. “It’s not a right. We want them to cherish every day while you’re here on this journey, because this definitely won’t last forever.”The Ignite, in their second season, are rounded out by seasoned players like Johnson, Pooh Jeter and C.J. Miles, who was drafted into the N.B.A. out of high school with Johnson in 2005.The Ignite offer the talented teenagers an introduction to the N.B.A.’s circadian rhythm without everything on the line, as could be the case when Johnson joined the league.“This G League team is actually helping getting these guys ready to go play pro first, which we didn’t have,” Johnson said. “We just got thrown into the fire, and they get to learn and then go, which is dope. They can have that N.B.A. schedule where you got to wake up, and travel, and go to shootaround.”When Johnson joined the N.B.A., players could find themselves at the mercy of a franchise’s commitment to development, or its lack thereof.The Chicago Bulls, for example, acquired the big men Tyson Chandler and Eddy Curry out of high school in 2001, hoping they would lead the franchise out of its post-Michael Jordan hangover. The Bulls offered playing time, but little development or direction in acquiring life skills.In Detroit, Johnson found the opposite. He joined a championship-level team of 30-year-olds with families and of established post players like Rasheed Wallace, Ben Wallace and Antonio McDyess.The Pistons, Johnson said, helped him learn life skills by helping him in apartment hunting, teaching him how to manage a bank account and helping him get his driver’s license.He received few minutes on the court but was willing and ready to listen and work, the individual effort folding into the momentum of an entire team. It was a quality that Johnson had cultivated as a youth when he participated in track and field, his original sports love.Johnson took some online classes at the University of Michigan but mostly regarded his time in Detroit as his college experience. He volunteered to leave the N.B.A. for stints in the G League, then known as the N.B.A. Development League, or D League. With the lower-level teams in Grand Rapids, Mich., and Sioux Falls, S.D., he came to know Texas Roadhouse and biscuits and could rely on constant playing time.Johnson, center, has played for many N.B.A. and developmental teams, including the Fayetteville Patriots in 2006.Kent Smith/NBAE via Getty ImagesA strong work ethic contributed to Johnson’s productive 14-year N.B.A. career in Detroit, Toronto, Boston and Philadelphia as a reliable and steadying influence.Johnson joined the Ignite last season with flickering aspirations of prolonging his playing career.Younger players, Johnson found, sought him out with questions. He surprised himself with how easily he had the answers at his disposal, like how to handle family obligations, how to establish routines and how to dress.“And if you do wrong, you’re going to be like, ‘I didn’t brush my teeth counterclockwise’ or something like that,” Johnson said. “A routine that gets your mind focused on the task is very helpful — knowing what you have to do in the morning to get your momentum going.”Johnson was elated on draft night in August when N.B.A. teams selected Ignite players like Jalen Green and Jonathan Kuminga.Johnson always figured he could be a player development coach if he wanted to. He now finds himself pulled to the strategy behind the game, envisioning a second career in coaching.“That passion when I was young and hungry to keep learning, it’s kind of leaning toward the coaching part,” he said.Johnson easily spots himself in the eyes of players like Scoot Henderson, who opted for the Ignite over one more year of high school.Whenever Henderson makes a mistake on the court, he rushes over to talk about it with Johnson so that it won’t happen again.Johnson said he had been “thrown into the fire” as a rookie and was hoping to help young players have a better experience.Joe Buglewicz for The New York Times“It just feels like a mirror,” Henderson said. “He knows what we are going through right now. He knows our thought process on everything.”Most players are used to working hard. That part is easy for anyone who is serious about the game. The leap is more of a mental leap than anything else, and Johnson is the positive voice in the ears of the Ignite players, beckoning them to continue.Entry into the N.B.A. is no longer a straight line for its younger players.Johnson has come full circle to make that transition as easy as possible for others.“They’re actually in tune with what I have to say,” Johnson said. “That changed my mind-set on wanting to give back. And when I saw those guys got drafted last year, it felt like I won a championship.” More

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      Manchester United Fires Solskjaer After a Loss Too Far

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      Lopsided defeats against Liverpool and Manchester City had the one-time fan favorite teetering. A humbling loss at lowly Watford finished him off.Manchester United had not done it after a humiliation by Liverpool. And the club’s executives had managed to tolerate the sight of Manchester City’s cruising to victory at Old Trafford while barely breaking a sweat. After each defeat, Ole Gunnar Solskjaer, the manager who had overseen both calamities, somehow remained in his post.He could not, though, survive a third. Solskjaer had promised, two weeks on since that defeat against Manchester City, that his team would react, that it would use the embarrassment as fuel for the rest of the season. Instead, his squad, one of the most expensively assembled in soccer’s long and lavish history, went to Watford — struggling at the foot of the Premier League, the sort of team United used to swat aside, unthinking — and contrived to lose on Saturday, 4-1.That was the end. A board meeting was called. A decision was made. Solskjaer, a favorite son finally out of rope, was out.Manchester United can confirm that Ole Gunnar Solskjaer has left his role as Manager.Thank you for everything, Ole ❤️#MUFC— Manchester United (@ManUtd) November 21, 2021
      “Ole will always be a legend at Manchester United and it is with regret that we have reached this difficult decision,” the club said on Sunday in a statement that seemed to take pains to avoid saying Solskjaer had been fired. “While the past few weeks have been disappointing, they should not obscure all the work he has done over the past three years to rebuild the foundations for long-term success.”The decision to remove him, though, did little to resolve the uncertainty around United’s future. United said Michael Carrick, Solskjaer’s assistant and another former United player, would take over on an interim basis “while the club looks to appoint an interim manager to the end of the season.” That decision — naming a placeholder for a to-be-announced interim manager — raised new questions about the direction of the club, the most decorated team in English soccer but one that has not won the league since 2013.Saturday’s defeat had seemed to spark a sudden shift in the players’ attitudes. United’s squad had, for the most part, remained staunchly behind Solskjaer: He is, and has been, well-liked by his charges. After the loss at Watford, though, United’s long-serving goalkeeper David De Gea acknowledged that it appeared his team did not “know how to defend.” He bemoaned his colleagues’ tendency to give up a host of “easy chances, easy goals.”For the first time, that view appeared to be shared by United’s hierarchy, too. Solskjaer’s managers convened a meeting on Saturday evening to discuss the best course of action. The conclave’s very existence was message enough: From that point on, Solskjaer’s departure was a matter of when, rather than if.He could not have been surprised. Solskjaer returned to Old Trafford almost exactly three years ago, answering his former team’s distress signal after the firing of José Mourinho. His reign has been variable in the extreme: mercurial, in a kind light, and violently erratic, in a harsher one.He restored morale to a team heavily exposed to late-stage Mourinho. He masterminded several surging, emotional runs of good form, and he put together a record-breaking streak on the road. He sent out a team that eliminated Paris St.-Germain from the Champions League. He reached a Europa League final. He finished (a distant) second to Manchester City in the Premier League.But he also failed to harness all of the richly talented players at his disposal into something approaching a coherent unit. He lost home games to the lesser lights of the Premier League at an alarming clip. He lost that Europa League final. He did not win a trophy. After the 5-0 defeat to Liverpool last month, he was subjected not just to anger and pity but also to ridicule. He became, to his team’s rivals, a laughingstock.Particularly in the early days of his tenure, Solskjaer made a habit of evoking Manchester United’s glorious past, the history in which he had played such a stirring role. He would joke about the club’s tendency to score late goals or to mount comebacks or to make things dramatic. The leitmotif might have chafed after a while, but Solskjaer was nothing if not sincere.He cherished United’s history. He felt, keenly, that it was his job to make sure that this iteration of the team lived up to the standards set by its predecessors. He can have few complaints, then, that his time in charge has come to an end after a month in which it has become abundantly, painfully clear quite how far from that level it has fallen.In a way, his departure is vindication of his belief in the importance of United’s history. To tolerate three humiliations, Liverpool and Manchester City and Watford, would have been to betray how Manchester United sees itself; how Solskjaer sees it. To be true to what the club is, United had no choice but to part ways with the man who saw it as his job to maintain that standard. More

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      In N.W.S.L. Season to Forget, One Last Day to Cheer

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      After the Washington Spirit and Chicago Red Stars meet for the championship, their league will enter the most consequential off-season in its history.To call the Washington Spirit’s season turbulent would be an understatement.The soccer team’s coach was fired after being accused of verbally abusing his female players. A handful of employees, mostly women, quit amid reports of a toxic workplace culture. Two of the team’s owners feuded publicly, leading one to pledge to sell his stake — but only after players released a statement urging him to sell. Oh, and two games were forfeited because of a coronavirus outbreak among players.By comparison, playing a playoff semifinal last weekend on a waterlogged converted baseball field was just another day at work.Too easy, @trinity_rodman 😏#RGNvWAS | https://t.co/bONPZnEXuh | #NWSL21 pic.twitter.com/h5aj1KJYrw— National Women’s Soccer League (@NWSL) November 14, 2021
      “We’re good,” defender Emily Sonnett said after the Spirit defeated the star-studded OL Reign, 2-1, on Sunday. “Aside from star power and international talent, I don’t think the Spirit get enough credit.”The Spirit will get that credit, and a satisfying conclusion to a nightmare National Women’s Soccer League season, if they can defeat the Chicago Red Stars in Saturday’s championship game in Louisville, Ky.Afterward the Spirit and the rest of the N.W.S.L. will look toward a future that remains murky as it grapples with several serious problems.The league’s first eight seasons were dominated by questions about whether it could survive where previous attempts at women’s professional soccer had failed. The ninth tested whether the league could survive an abuse scandal.Four N.W.S.L. head coaches were fired or departed quietly in the past year after various accusations of abusive behavior. One of them, Paul Riley, was accused by a player of coercing her into a sexual relationship. Eight of the league’s 10 teams have changed coaches since the beginning of the season, and the furor over the mishandling of reports of abuse led to the ouster of the league’s commissioner and top lawyer, the postponement of a weekend of games and weeks of on-field protests and off-field soul-searching.As it crowns its champion this weekend, the N.W.S.L. is being led by an interim commissioner, and it remains the subject of a number of overlapping investigations into the conduct of the league office and a number of its teams. There is neither a timetable for when the investigations might conclude, nor even a hint of what they will find and the changes that may result.Still, a string of overtly positive developments has offered the N.W.S.L. and its players hope that better days are ahead.Two new teams, Angel City F.C. and the San Diego Wave F.C., will join next season, expanding the league to 12 teams and into soccer-crazed southern California. Angel City, based in Los Angeles, is backed by high-wattage investors like Natalie Portman and Mia Hamm, while billionaire investor Ron Burkle owns San Diego, who hired the former United States coach Jill Ellis as its first president. Both teams have already hired accomplished coaches.Not to be outdone, the owners of the league’s team in Kansas City have announced plans for a new $70 million stadium on the city’s waterfront. When finished, it will be the country’s first soccer stadium built primarily for a women’s professional team. And soon the league and its players are expected to approve their first collective bargaining agreement, an important step in formalizing the playing and working conditions for players.For the next few days, though, the league is hoping the focus will be on the present.The path the Red Stars took to the championship game was not nearly as turbulent as the Spirit’s; they are one of the two teams to have the same coach all season. But that does not mean it was easy.“This year was absolutely insane off the field with everything that was happening,” defender Sarah Gorden told The Equalizer on Thursday. She said the last two years, including the pandemic and the killing of George Floyd and the national protests that followed, had been a testament to “how strong the women in this league are, how strong the Black women in this league are.”To get to the semifinal, the Red Stars knocked off the favored Portland Thorns on the road in front of nearly 16,000 fans. They did it while missing the national team stalwarts Julie Ertz and Alyssa Naeher, who have been battling injuries all season. They also didn’t have forward Mallory Pugh, who sat out the game because of the league’s coronavirus protocols. Pugh could miss the final, too; her status remained unclear as of Friday.For casual fans tuning into the final, then, the game is likely to be decided by players they may not have heard of, mirroring the changing of the guard that is under way with the national team, where Carli Lloyd has retired and a number of the team’s players, including Megan Rapinoe, are nearing the ends of their career. Instead, on Saturday they will see the Washington’s Ashley Hatch and Trinity Rodman, the league’s rookie of the year, and Chicago’s Gorden, all of whom were named among the league’s best 11 this season.What they can offer the league and its fans, for at least one day, is a respite from a season filled with one disappointing revelation after another. Andi Sullivan, a Washington midfielder, spoke on Friday about “soaking up” the chaos of the season, and her coach, Kris Ward, said the team dealt with the chaos in part by looking at the practice and playing field as sanctuaries away from everything else.But as the confetti is cleared from Louisville’s Lynn Family Stadium after the final on Saturday afternoon, players will step away from the field for months, and the N.W.S.L. will enter the most consequential off-season in its history.There will be an expansion draft to conduct, a team to sell, coaches to hire and allegations to investigate. More

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      Who Is Afghanistan's Soccer Team Playing For?

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      BELEK, Turkey — Anoush Dastgir may be the hardest-working man in soccer, but by Saturday, his job had taken a toll.Dastgir, the coach of Afghanistan’s men’s national team, was sitting in an empty restaurant at the hotel where he and his team were preparing for an exhibition match against Indonesia. It was 11 p.m., and Dastgir was battling what sounded like a heavy cold. Which wasn’t surprising, given he now had a dozen jobs to do.Coaching a national soccer team is tough enough anywhere, but coaching Afghanistan has long had unique challenges.It is one of the world’s poorest countries and a place where civil war and Taliban rule once kept the national team from playing a game for almost two decades. The country is considered so unsafe, in fact, that FIFA, soccer’s global governing body, has long banned its teams from playing at home. Most of the time, that hardly mattered: Afghanistan is ranked 152nd in the world. And it has never qualified for a major tournament.Still, circumstances got even harder over the summer, when the Taliban swept back into Kabul, the Afghan government collapsed and its president, Ashraf Ghani — not to mention tens of thousands of his countrymen and women — fled the country.Afghanistan’s coach, Anoush Dastgir. He arranged his team’s friendly in Turkey on his own, and appealed to FIFA to help pay for it.Dastgir lost access to part of his team and half his staff in the chaos. Two staff members are now in refugee camps in Qatar. Two others are in Afghanistan, eager to leave. His roster is populated almost entirely by Afghan refugees, or the sons of refugees, who have found shelter in the Netherlands, Germany, the United States, Sweden and beyond over the years, fleeing the various conflicts that have afflicted Afghanistan since the 1980s. But a few still spend time in Afghanistan, and this year even doing that became a concern.One of Dastgir’s most important players, Noor Husin, who left for Britain when he was six, was in the northern city of Mazar-i-Sharif in July as the Taliban approached. “I was terrified to be honest,” he said. “Because every day there was news, they’re getting closer, they’re in the outskirts of the city. And I was thinking, surely not. You just didn’t think it was going to happen.”Husin managed to get to Kabul and scramble out of the country, but he — like many of his teammates — thought the national team was finished. “Everyone thought, this is the end, the end of everything,” he said.Dastgir, though, was determined to keep it alive, to have it continue to serve, he said, as a rare symbol of unity in a country often divided along ethnic or linguistic lines. So a few weeks ago, he picked up the phone and arranged a friendly match — the first since the Taliban took over — against Indonesia. That was the easy part. He then had to find a site for the game, arrange flights and visas for players and source coronavirus tests for everyone. With the Afghan soccer federation’s bank account frozen, Dastgir successfully petitioned FIFA for help financing the trip..css-1xzcza9{list-style-type:disc;padding-inline-start:1em;}.css-3btd0c{font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-size:1rem;line-height:1.375rem;color:#333;margin-bottom:0.78125rem;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-3btd0c{font-size:1.0625rem;line-height:1.5rem;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}}.css-3btd0c strong{font-weight:600;}.css-3btd0c em{font-style:italic;}.css-1kpebx{margin:0 auto;font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-weight:700;font-size:1.125rem;line-height:1.3125rem;color:#121212;}#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-1kpebx{font-family:nyt-cheltenham,georgia,’times new roman’,times,serif;font-weight:700;font-size:1.375rem;line-height:1.625rem;}@media (min-width:740px){#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-1kpebx{font-size:1.6875rem;line-height:1.875rem;}}@media (min-width:740px){.css-1kpebx{font-size:1.25rem;line-height:1.4375rem;}}.css-1gtxqqv{margin-bottom:0;}.css-1g3vlj0{font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-size:1rem;line-height:1.375rem;color:#333;margin-bottom:0.78125rem;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-1g3vlj0{font-size:1.0625rem;line-height:1.5rem;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}}.css-1g3vlj0 strong{font-weight:600;}.css-1g3vlj0 em{font-style:italic;}.css-1g3vlj0{margin-bottom:0;margin-top:0.25rem;}.css-19zsuqr{display:block;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}.css-12vbvwq{background-color:white;border:1px solid #e2e2e2;width:calc(100% – 40px);max-width:600px;margin:1.5rem auto 1.9rem;padding:15px;box-sizing:border-box;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-12vbvwq{padding:20px;width:100%;}}.css-12vbvwq:focus{outline:1px solid #e2e2e2;}#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-12vbvwq{border:none;padding:10px 0 0;border-top:2px solid #121212;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-rdoyk0{-webkit-transform:rotate(0deg);-ms-transform:rotate(0deg);transform:rotate(0deg);}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-eb027h{max-height:300px;overflow:hidden;-webkit-transition:none;transition:none;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-5gimkt:after{content:’See more’;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-6mllg9{opacity:1;}.css-qjk116{margin:0 auto;overflow:hidden;}.css-qjk116 strong{font-weight:700;}.css-qjk116 em{font-style:italic;}.css-qjk116 a{color:#326891;-webkit-text-decoration:underline;text-decoration:underline;text-underline-offset:1px;-webkit-text-decoration-thickness:1px;text-decoration-thickness:1px;-webkit-text-decoration-color:#326891;text-decoration-color:#326891;}.css-qjk116 a:visited{color:#326891;-webkit-text-decoration-color:#326891;text-decoration-color:#326891;}.css-qjk116 a:hover{-webkit-text-decoration:none;text-decoration:none;}With no kit man, Dastgir also had to ship 450 pounds of training gear himself, and then persuade his brother-in-law to help him wash it. He bought soccer balls, arranged referees and — without a communications team — promoted the game on his private social media accounts. He even negotiated a broadcasting contract to make sure the maximum number of people back in Afghanistan could watch the match. And then, with all that done, he still had to find time to coach the team.But as midnight neared in the hotel restaurant on Saturday, there was still one important issue to resolve: Which flag would the team fly?A Young LeaderAt 31, Dastgir is one of the youngest coaches in world soccer. Born in Kabul, he escaped the country’s civil war with his family shortly after Soviet forces left Afghanistan in 1989. He was just a few months old, and grew up in Pakistan and then India before settling in the Netherlands.In Europe, he learned Dutch and was scouted by a leading club, NEC Nijmegen. He was eventually called up for the Afghan national team but appeared in a handful of games before a knee injury ended his playing career.Afghan players at training in Belek, Turkey, and Faysal Sheyesteh, whose many tattoos include one of a helicopter and a fighter jet raining red hearts on Kabul’s skyline.“My coaches said, ‘You have to start coaching,’ because as a player I was kind of leader of the team,” he said. His first opportunity to lead Afghanistan came in 2016, when a foreign coach didn’t turn up for a game amid a contract dispute.“The players said, ‘I think Anoush can handle it,’” Dastgir recalled. He lost that game but the team had played well. The next time the post came open, in 2018, he was given the job..css-1xzcza9{list-style-type:disc;padding-inline-start:1em;}.css-3btd0c{font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-size:1rem;line-height:1.375rem;color:#333;margin-bottom:0.78125rem;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-3btd0c{font-size:1.0625rem;line-height:1.5rem;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}}.css-3btd0c strong{font-weight:600;}.css-3btd0c em{font-style:italic;}.css-1kpebx{margin:0 auto;font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-weight:700;font-size:1.125rem;line-height:1.3125rem;color:#121212;}#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-1kpebx{font-family:nyt-cheltenham,georgia,’times new roman’,times,serif;font-weight:700;font-size:1.375rem;line-height:1.625rem;}@media (min-width:740px){#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-1kpebx{font-size:1.6875rem;line-height:1.875rem;}}@media (min-width:740px){.css-1kpebx{font-size:1.25rem;line-height:1.4375rem;}}.css-1gtxqqv{margin-bottom:0;}.css-1g3vlj0{font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-size:1rem;line-height:1.375rem;color:#333;margin-bottom:0.78125rem;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-1g3vlj0{font-size:1.0625rem;line-height:1.5rem;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}}.css-1g3vlj0 strong{font-weight:600;}.css-1g3vlj0 em{font-style:italic;}.css-1g3vlj0{margin-bottom:0;margin-top:0.25rem;}.css-19zsuqr{display:block;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}.css-12vbvwq{background-color:white;border:1px solid #e2e2e2;width:calc(100% – 40px);max-width:600px;margin:1.5rem auto 1.9rem;padding:15px;box-sizing:border-box;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-12vbvwq{padding:20px;width:100%;}}.css-12vbvwq:focus{outline:1px solid #e2e2e2;}#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-12vbvwq{border:none;padding:10px 0 0;border-top:2px solid #121212;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-rdoyk0{-webkit-transform:rotate(0deg);-ms-transform:rotate(0deg);transform:rotate(0deg);}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-eb027h{max-height:300px;overflow:hidden;-webkit-transition:none;transition:none;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-5gimkt:after{content:’See more’;}.css-12vbvwq[data-truncated] .css-6mllg9{opacity:1;}.css-qjk116{margin:0 auto;overflow:hidden;}.css-qjk116 strong{font-weight:700;}.css-qjk116 em{font-style:italic;}.css-qjk116 a{color:#326891;-webkit-text-decoration:underline;text-decoration:underline;text-underline-offset:1px;-webkit-text-decoration-thickness:1px;text-decoration-thickness:1px;-webkit-text-decoration-color:#326891;text-decoration-color:#326891;}.css-qjk116 a:visited{color:#326891;-webkit-text-decoration-color:#326891;text-decoration-color:#326891;}.css-qjk116 a:hover{-webkit-text-decoration:none;text-decoration:none;}By then, he was on the hunt for Afghan players. Many were discovered among the vast Afghan diaspora, refugees and their children spread around the world. When a match against Palestine in Kabul was arranged in 2018, the first international game to be played in Afghanistan in years, Dastgir called in many of his discoveries.“I wanted to have these players in Afghanistan to feel the country, to see the people, because most of them are born outside the country,” he said. “So if you tell them play for your country, they are like, ‘What is that?’”Even now, the team’s place as a visible multicultural institution shows up in training sessions.Instructions were shouted out in Dutch and Pashto. Encouragement was offered in German, Dari and English. Sometimes, Dastgir switched languages midsentence. “My first captain is Tajik,” he said. “My second captain is Pashtun. My third captain is Hazara.” Two of his players, the brothers Adam and David Najem, were born in New Jersey.Between bus rides, hotel down time and fans’ cheering the players’ names, the week had the feel of any international match.Still, as the match neared, the questions of the flag and the anthem remained unresolved. This was not a decision to be taken lightly. The Taliban’s white flag, with the Shahada — the Muslim declaration of faith — printed on it, has replaced the green, red and black tricolor over Afghanistan’s presidential palace. And as the Taliban have instituted a broad ban on music, the national anthem has effectively been outlawed.Dastgir knew that playing it and flying the old flag would be controversial; the country’s men’s cricket team was rebuked by a Taliban leader after doing so at the Twenty20 World Cup. He knew his choice might cost him his job or worse.“I’m not afraid of getting fired,” Dastgir said. “I’m the head coach of the national team of 37 million Afghans. I’m not the national team coach of the Taliban regime, or the regime of Ghani. We never did it for the government. We did it for the people.”Cheers Far From HomeNo one in Afghanistan’s camp was sure if any supporters would actually come to watch them play in Belek, a coastal town near Antalya.Stadium officials worried about coronavirus restrictions were assuaged when Dastgir agreed to pay for security out of his own pocket. There was also the issue of whether the Turkish police might prove to be a deterrent. At least 300,000 Afghan refugees and migrants have found shelter in Turkey in recent years, and many are undocumented. But as the daylight faded and kickoff approached, hundreds of fans lined up outside the stadium gate.Afghanistan’s game against Indonesia had been arranged on short notice. A late goal delivered a 1-0 victory, and set off celebrations behind the goal and in the stands.“I want to show I am Afghan,” said Mursal, an 18-year-old student wrapped in a large Afghan flag but wary enough to decline to give her last name. She had fled to Turkey four years ago, after her father was killed in Afghanistan, and had found few opportunities to wave the Afghan flag since she arrived. “It’s our flag. You don’t have another flag. Just this flag, and no one can change it.”Six hundred supporters — the limit agreed upon with stadium officials — soon streamed in, filling the stadium’s one long grandstand.A few minutes before kickoff, the teams lined up at midfield. In front of them, two of Afghanistan’s substitutes unfurled a large green, red and black flag, the one Dastgir had carried with him to Belek. The anthem played, a moment beamed to millions of Afghans back home. No one was there to take the traditional prematch photo: The squad’s official photographer escaped to Portugal months ago.The game was frantic, soundtracked by the constant noise of the Afghan fans. Dastgir, dressed all in black, calmly gave tactical instructions. Late in the second half, he summoned Omid Popalzay, a Dutch-raised midfielder last seen playing in Poland’s fourth tier. In the 85th minute, a few moments after entering the game as a substitute, Popalzay scored. Minutes later, the final whistle blew. Afghanistan had won, and the fans erupted with joy.One fan jumped 12 feet down onto the running track surrounding the field hoping to get a selfie, but he was intercepted by the police and frog-marched back by his neck. One player, Norlla Amiri, climbed onto the shoulders of a teammate so his infant son could be passed down to him.Norlla Amiri climbed onto a teammate’s shoulders to collect his young son during the celebrations.Other fans threw their cellphones to the players, asking for selfies. Many wanted pictures with Faysal Shayesteh, a 30-year-old midfielder who has had a globe-trotting professional career since moving to the Netherlands as a boy.Nearly all Afghan fans knew Shayesteh because of his tattoos, including the one across his chest that shows Kabul’s skyline underneath a fighter jet and an attack helicopter, each bombarding the city with red hearts. Above his left breast were two GPS coordinates: The first is for Hengelo, the city in eastern Holland where he grew up. The other is Kabul, where he was born.“If I talk about it I get emotional,” he said, holding back tears. “Because I know what the people in Afghanistan are going through. And I know this is the only thing that makes them happy, winning a game for the national team. This is the only thing they have, so I’m very happy.”Dastgir watched it all unfold from the back, filming some of it on his phone to post on his Instagram account. No one had done more to make the moment happen than him. More

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      in Basket

      New Black N.B.A. Coaches Wonder Why It Took So Long to Get a Shot

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      The N.B.A.’s coaching ranks have long been dominated by white men, but a demand from Black players for more diversity may be changing things.Jamahl Mosley has traveled the world for basketball.He played for professional teams in Mexico, Australia, Spain, Finland and South Korea. He was a player development coach with the N.B.A.’s Denver Nuggets when Carmelo Anthony was there. He was an assistant coach for the Cleveland Cavaliers during the four long years after LeBron James left for Miami. Dirk Nowitzki’s final years with the Mavericks and the rise of Luka Doncic? Mosley was there, too, as an assistant in Dallas.He spent 16 seasons on N.B.A. coaching staffs, developing his skills and hoping for his big break to be a head coach. He had heeded his mother’s advice about playing college basketball for a Black coach, to learn leadership skills from someone who looked like him. The doubts about his ever getting that kind of job only surfaced in recent years when he interviewed for — and was turned down for — seven N.B.A. head coaching jobs.“Because you knew you were qualified,” Mosley said. “You knew you had interviewed well. You knew that you had the ability to do it.”The N.B.A.’s coaching and executive ranks have long been dominated by white men, even though more than 70 percent of players are Black. But this year, Mosley became part of an unusual off-season, in which seven of eight head coaching vacancies were filled by Black candidates. Five of them, including Mosley, who was hired by the Orlando Magic in July, are first-time head coaches. The others are Wes Unseld Jr. of the Washington Wizards, Willie Green of the New Orleans Pelicans, Ime Udoka of the Boston Celtics and Chauncey Billups of the Portland Trail Blazers. Jason Kidd of the Dallas Mavericks and Nate McMillan of the Atlanta Hawks had been head coaches elsewhere before.“If this was 15 years ago, we probably don’t get these positions,” Green said.The uptick — 13 of the league’s 30 coaches are now Black and two others are not white — came during a broader national conversation about race and hiring practices. Black players harnessed their voices to seek change that they felt was overdue.“This is a stain on the league that no one can deny,” Michele Roberts, the executive director of the players’ union, said in an interview, “and we’ve got to continue to do better.”‘There’s a natural cultural bond’Long before he became the coach of the Celtics, Udoka was a self-described student of the game. As a teenager in Portland, Ore., he would record games that featured some of his favorite college players, standouts like Syracuse’s Lawrence Moten and Lamond Murray of the University of California, Berkeley. Then he would head to the playground to mimic their moves. (Udoka still has a stack of VHS tapes at home.)“There’s a natural cultural bond that Black coaches are going to have with their players,” Boston Celtics Coach Ime Udoka said.Michael Dwyer/Associated Press“I wasn’t the most athletic or skilled guy,” Udoka said, “so I really had to use my brain for an advantage. I always thought through the game a certain way, and I think some coaches saw that in me, too.”Udoka grew up in a predominantly Black neighborhood, went to a Black high school and had Black coaches. He was not especially conscious of race, he said, since being in that environment was all he knew. But his high school coach “preached family and togetherness and a brotherhood,” Udoka said, and he carried those lessons with him.Udoka was bouncing around the N.B.A. as a defense-minded forward when he got what he described as “the coaching bug.” He helped found an Amateur Athletic Union team in Portland that included Terrence Ross and Terrence Jones, future N.B.A. players. Udoka also participated in coaching clinics hosted by the N.B.A. players’ union. After retiring, he joined the San Antonio Spurs in 2012 as an assistant under Gregg Popovich.The Celtics job opened in June when the team announced that Brad Stevens, who had coached the team for eight seasons, would be its new president of basketball operations. Jaylen Brown, one of the Celtics’ young stars, said in a recent interview with The Undefeated that he had told the team to hire a Black candidate. Representation was important to him, he said.Udoka, left, talked with Marcus Smart during a preseason game this month.Winslow Townson/Associated Press“Players were asking and demanding and wanting to see more guys who looked like them,” Udoka said. He added: “In coaching, I think there’s been a shift from Xs and Os and game plans to the value that’s placed on relationships. And there’s a natural cultural bond that Black coaches are going to have with their players.”Udoka said he was not suggesting that white coaches couldn’t bond with Black players. He cited Popovich, who is white, as someone who has long stressed the importance of relationships. But for a new coach on a new team, it would be naïve to believe that race was not a factor.“Basketball is mainly minority-based,” Celtics point guard Marcus Smart said in an interview. “So having a minority as a coach, I can connect with him. I can say things to him, or he can say things to me, and we get it. Whereas it’s different when you don’t. You have to try to figure out, OK, how can I meet them halfway?”Still, a coach is a coach: Udoka suspended Smart for the team’s preseason finale for breaking an unspecified team rule.‘This decision is coming fast’About three years ago, Rick Carlisle, as president of the National Basketball Coaches Association, was hearing from an increasing number of young assistants of diverse backgrounds who felt they were not getting a fair shake at head coaching jobs.The league and the coaches’ association soon began the N.B.A. Coaches Equality Initiative, a program aimed at developing young coaches and ensuring that qualified candidates are visible when jobs arise. Since 2019, there have been numerous workshops, summits, panel discussions and networking opportunities.David Vanterpool, left, was passed over for the head coaching job in Minnesota after the team fired Ryan Saunders, right.David Zalubowski/Associated PressAnd there is an app, a coaches database that was unveiled last year. It now includes profiles of about 300 coaches, whom the league’s power brokers — owners, general managers, team presidents — can access, Carlisle said. Coaches can upload their histories, their philosophies and even their interview clips. Think of it is as Bumble for the N.B.A. coaching set. But it is all part of a larger mission, said Oris Stuart, the chief people and inclusion officer for the league.“We have ongoing conversations with our teams about the importance of making sure that, as they’re making decisions, the process is inclusive,” Stuart said in an interview. “We focus on the importance of making sure that the best talent is considered, that we make a wide reach and that we go beyond the pre-established networks that people are working from.”But within the past year, the hiring processes for two white coaches — including the one that landed Carlisle with the Indiana Pacers — have been criticized for not appearing to be inclusive.The Minnesota Timberwolves fired Ryan Saunders as their coach in February and announced his replacement, Chris Finch, who is white, on the same day. The Timberwolves chose not to promote the team’s associate head coach, David Vanterpool, who is Black, which would have been typical after a midseason firing. (Vanterpool is now an assistant for the Nets.)The perception was that there was no way the Timberwolves could have seriously considered any Black candidates given their accelerated timeline, said Roberts, the executive director of the players’ union. The timing of the change, she added, “got under a lot of people’s skin.”Within days, Carlisle and David Fogel, the executive director of the coaches’ association, released a statement in which the organization expressed its “disappointment” with Minnesota’s search, saying that it is “our responsibility to point out when an organization fails to conduct a thorough and transparent search of candidates from a wide range of diverse backgrounds.”Rick Carlisle expressed some trepidation before he accepted the offer of head coach from the Indiana Pacers in June.Doug Mcschooler/Associated PressBut just a few months later, in June, Carlisle accepted the Pacers job after what appeared to be an abbreviated search. Indiana had fired Nate Bjorkgren earlier in the month after just one season, and they had interviewed only one other candidate when they offered Carlisle the job. Chad Buchanan, Indiana’s general manager, said in an interview that the team wanted an experienced coach and that Carlisle had unexpectedly become available after he resigned from the Dallas Mavericks, which he had coached for 13 seasons and led to a championship in 2011.Buchanan sought to assure Carlisle by telling him that the Pacers had interviewed 17 candidates, of whom eight were Black and one was female, before hiring Bjorkgren eight months earlier.“This was something I was concerned about,” Carlisle said, “but when they gave me that information, I was comfortable moving forward.”Washington Wizards Coach Wes Unseld Jr. was known as the Genius for his attention to detail and his instinctive feel for the game.Sarah Stier/Getty Images‘It’s more of a systemic issue’As an economics major at Johns Hopkins University, Wes Unseld Jr. thought he would get into investment banking. But for two summers, before and after graduating in 1997, he interned for the Wizards. His father, also Wes, who was synonymous with the franchise from his Hall of Fame playing days, had moved into the front office as the team’s general manager after seven seasons as its head coach. The elder Unseld invited his son to learn the ropes, just in case the financial world was not for him.“If you’re going to be in this business, you’ve got to learn the business,” Wes Unseld Jr. recalled his father telling him. “So I’m thinking, OK, I’ll be around basketball. ‘No, you’re going to intern in every department.’ Community relations, public relations, marketing, sales — you name it, I did it.”Unseld, who was a very good Division III player for Johns Hopkins, soon realized that he could not leave the game behind, and he became one of the many unsung, behind-the-scenes fixtures in the N.B.A. After eight seasons as a scout for Washington, he spent the next 16 as an assistant for various teams around the league. He refined offenses. He built defenses. With the Wizards, he was known as The Genius for his attention to detail and his instinctive feel for the game. In Denver, he helped shape Nikola Jokic and Jamal Murray into stars.Yet Unseld could not land a head coaching job. He said he was never sure if his race was a factor. “When an opportunity doesn’t pan out, sometimes it’s easy to ask, ‘Was it that?’” Unseld said. “And it may have been. It’s difficult to tell.”Willie Green, the head coach of the New Orleans Pelicans, spoke to reporters at a news conference last month.Sean Gardner/Getty ImagesAfter a record 14 Black coaches were manning benches for teams at the start of the 2012-13 season, those numbers dipped in subsequent years, showing how tenuous progress can be. Unseld said the N.B.A. is “a network business like any other business.”“If you’re not connected to the decision makers, it can be difficult,” he said. “I don’t know if it’s an overt way of not interviewing or not giving people of color a chance, but maybe they just don’t have that network to pull from. It’s more of a systemic issue.”Roberts commended the coaches’ association for working to address that issue in recent seasons. But the real power, she said, has come from the players themselves.“A happy team is probably a more successful team,” she said. “And if the players think management is thumbing its nose at their articulated concerns about a coaching staff, then what’s their motivation to stay?”In New Orleans, Willie Green often thinks of his uncle, Gary Green, who coached him when he was growing up in Detroit, and who imbued him with the fundamentals. After several years as an assistant with Golden State and Phoenix, Green said he felt a heightened sense of responsibility.“We have to be caretakers of these opportunities,” he said.In Boston, Garrett Jackson, a former player on Udoka’s A.A.U. team, is now one of Udoka’s video coordinators. And Mosley got his first win for the Magic with a narrow victory against the Knicks at Madison Square Garden. He was gifted the game ball, then got back to business.“It’s like anything,” he said. “You just put your head down and do the work.” More

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      Outside Hotlines for Athletes Are a Sign of Strained Trust in Sports

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      From women’s soccer to college sports, athletes have lost faith in leagues and organizations handling abuse and other complaints.As revelation after devastating revelation emerged last month about soccer executives ignoring reports of male coaches sexually abusing or harassing female players, the National Women’s Soccer League Players Association hired an outside company to provide an anonymous online platform for athletes to report abuse and other concerns.Three days later, the N.W.S.L. rolled its own anonymous hotline, set up by a different company, to also allow anyone with knowledge of any misconduct to report issues anonymously.Then four days after that, the league’s franchise in the state of Washington, OL Reign, made its own agreement — with the same company that the league hired — to report misconduct and policy violations at the club level.While the flurry of activity stemmed from the gravest crisis to hit the top professional women’s soccer league in North America, the decisions to rely on anonymous third-party hotlines were not made in a vacuum.In the last few years, the companies that specialize in third-party hotlines have seen a surge in deals with sports organizations of many types, including the N.F.L. Players Association, P.G.A. of America, U.F.C. Gym, U.S.A. Gymnastics and a slew of university athletic programs. The latest deal, reached on Monday, was with the U.S. Anti-Doping Agency.The platforms, while empowering athletes, staffers or anyone connected with a sport to lodge a complaint, have also become emblematic of a deepening loss of faith in the informal and sometimes clubby methods that coaches and leagues have deployed to address allegations of misconduct.Athletes, advocates and the companies themselves caution that these efforts depend on the willingness of the sports entities to take complaints seriously. They also stress that the victim of an assault should always go first to the police and law enforcement agencies.But given the disillusionment over how institutions have ignored or covered up rampant abuse, doping and other issues, they are not surprised by the push to establish a record, especially when a complaint may not rise to the level of a crime or may need more review.“We tell people, we’re not for 911 emergencies — this is for reporting unethical and unsafe behavior, and not for reporting laws that have been broken,” said Raymond Dunkle, the president of Red Flag Reporting in Akron, Ohio, whose sports clients include baseball and basketball youth and adult leagues and, because of a more recent controversy, jiu-jitsu gyms. “The idea is to empower people to speak up, anonymously, if they see anything unsafe. You can very sincerely say my door is open but people sometimes sincerely fear management.”Fans held up signs supporting athletes at a game between the Red Bulls and Inter Miami on Oct. 9 in Harrison, N.J.Dennis Schneidler/USA Today Sports, via ReutersThe trend in sports mirrors what has happened in the corporate world since the 2002 Sarbanes-Oxley Act, which strengthened corporate governance and established a hotline reporting option for employees, said Thomas O’Keefe, the president and chief executive of Syntrio. O’Keefe’s company owns Lighthouse Services, a compliance training and reporting hotline company based near Philadelphia that was hired recently by the N.W.S.L. players’ union.This is how these online platforms generally work: Say an athlete has a complaint or a concern. The athlete would use a mobile device or computer to report the issue anonymously, and upload any documentation. The platform would automatically send the complaint to several people — never just one — like a human resources manager, general counsel and financial officer. The athlete, still anonymously, would be able to correspond with one of those recipients designated by the company, who could provide guidance or more information until the matter is resolved or at least recorded.“There’s a hierarchy of people in any organization that can see the report and subsequent follow-up,” O”Keefe said. “There is no way for people to change it or edit it.”For sports entities, the annual cost can range from a few hundred to a few thousand dollars. The N.W.S.L. players’ union, for instance, is paying about $50 a month, said Meghann Burke, its executive director.Burke said the association, a new affiliate of the AFL-CIO, had initially asked the league to include an anonymous third-party hotline in its anti-harassment policy, adopted earlier this year, because of “the lack of trust the players have in the league handling these complaints.”But the league demurred, so she said she “literally started Googling anonymous hotline options” before getting assurances from associates about Lighthouse.Now, just two weeks after finalizing the deal with Lighthouse, Burke is receiving reports, and already seeing patterns.“It’s not a panacea, but it’s certainly one tool in the toolbox,” Burke said.The hotline certainly got the attention of the league’s powers. Within a week, both the N.W.S.L. and the OL Reign had announced separate deals with Real Response, a company in Charlotte.“We understand that we must undertake a significant systemic and cultural transformation to address the issues required to become the type of league that N.W.S.L. players and their fans deserve and regain the trust of both,” the league said in a news release.Even though having multiple hotlines for players may seem redundant, some issues — like financial abuses, business practices, or health concerns — may be more germane to a specific level, such as a club, according to the companies.Real Response was founded in 2015 by David Chadwick, a former college basketball player at Rice and Valparaiso. When his Rice team was reeling from allegations of racist behavior by its athletic director, he struggled to figure out who and what to believe. There was no obvious way, he said, for an athlete to immediately raise questions or get feedback from the administration on issues such as drugs, hazing, inappropriate relationships or mental health.“We can’t wait for those end-of-year surveys; we need a mechanism in real time,” he said.Real Response now works with more than 100 college athletic departments, with recent additions including Syracuse, Wichita State and Tulane. The company also has been hired by the N.F.L.P.A., U.S.A. Gymnastics and USADA.Nancy Hogshead-Makar, a lawyer and former Olympic swimming champion, cautioned that while she supported the concept, “the question is whether any third-party hotlines are given the authority to do the investigation, whether members of the sports organization are required to be cooperative, and whether their findings are to be recognized and enforced by the sport organization.”Jocelyne Lamoureux-Davidson, a decorated and recently retired hockey player who has frequently challenged USA Hockey, the national governing body of the sport, on gender equity issues, said if her sport’s fledgling professional leagues ever embraced these hotlines, there could be potential benefits — if done right.“It’s a right step in the right direction, but there are too many people in positions of influence and power that don’t do the right thing,” said Lamoureux-Davidson, who, with her twin and fellow three-time Olympian, Monique Lamoureux-Morando, now has a foundation to support disadvantaged children. “Each pro league, all the N.G.B.s, they all have policies and procedures, but what’s the execution? How well does it protect the athlete? Sometimes it’s not policies but the personnel.” More