The wonder of this exercise–which will, in one form or another, drag on until late spring–is that the players take Wilkens’s Socratic method seriously. This is, after all, a sport where bench-warmers earn telephone-number salaries, where egos are as gargantuan as shoe sizes. But not around Wilkens. A Hall of Fame player himself, a tough, soft-spoken kid up from the courts of Bed-Stuy, Wilkens has earned the respect of two decades’ worth of NBA players by being patient, by being demanding and by asking no more of his players than he asked of himself. As a result, this season Wilkens will earn a remarkable record: he will become the league’s all-time winning coach, surpassing Red Auerbach, the Boston Celtics’ legendary leader, “There’s no doubt Lenny is a great coach,” says Dream Team coach Chuck Daly. “He knows the game, he knows how to teach–he can coach in any era.”
That basketball-crazy America may not yet recognize him has a lot to do with geography, personnel, personal style, Michael Jordan and, inevitably, race. Wilkens has done most of his coaching in Seattle and Cleveland, not America’s premier media axis, and his teams never boasted a true superstar in his prime. His three best Cleveland teams were overshadowed–and ultimately ousted in the playoffs–by Jordan’s Chicago Bulls. Wilkens has never been one to showboat or self-pro-mote. He has, for too long, been the league’s invisible man. “I used to kid that I was the NBA’s best-kept secret,” Wilkens says. His most familiar sideline stance is arms folded across the chest–a posture, he says, that shouldn’t be confused with laid-back. “I’m in control,” Wilkens says. “I know what the hell I want to do.”
Though black athletes dominate the NBA game, they still lag far behind in coaching opportunities. Wilkens was the second black coach in NBA history (Bill Russell was first) and one of four to have won NBA crowns, Still, black coaches are more likely to be credited as motivators than as teachers or tacticians–and sometimes not credited at all. “When K. C. Jones coached the Celtics, people would say, ‘All he’s got to do is roll the ball out’,” says Wilkens. “It amazes me why that perception exists.” No less a coaching authority than Auerbach deems Wilkens a worthy successor as record-holder. “You have to be one hell of a coach just to last that long in the NBA,” says Red.
In a league that too often values flash over substance, Wilkens, 57, is a genuine role model. He commanded such respect during his 15-year playing career that two different teams assigned him rare double duty as player-coach. More remarkable is that he maintains that respect among today’s breed of player, imposing his will with a quiet word or, if needed, a steely glance. “It’s the person who he is, the standards he sets–the values, the morals, the way you conduct yourself,” says Atlanta guard Craig Ehlo, describing the former altar boy who still attends mass. “That’s what he teaches more than basketball.”
Indeed, Wilkens’s coaching philosophy is as simple as any Sunday church homily: mutual respect begets togetherness begets strength. And in basketball parlance, that translates into the hallmarks of winning ball clubs–discipline, selflessness and, above all, defense. “You’re not going to shoot 50 percent every night. Defense keeps you, in ball games,” Wilkens says. “Downtown” Fred Brown, whose long-range bombing helped propel Wilkens’s SuperSonics to the 1979 NBA title, says, “If the players do the hard work, they will win ball games. Lenny can make it happen.”
That Wilkens has embraced a work ethic is hardly surprising. He was one of four children raised in Brooklyn by their white, Irish Catholic mother after their father died–when Lenny was 5 years old. He took his first job, delivering groceries, at the age of 7 and in his spare time learned basketball. Wilkens played less than one season of high-school ball, and at Providence College, uncertain of his NBA prospects, planned a teaching career. He wound up in the Hall of Fame: (His NBA longevity has almost been matched by a 32-year marriage to his college sweetheart; they have three children.)
During games, he calls out a steady refrain–“Rotate!” “Watch the back door!” “Help out!”–of instructions. A missed shot won’t bring Wilkens leaping off the bench the way a missed assignment will. And the sin of “standing around” can earn a player an uneasy seat beside the coach. “Young people need direction, so I set parameters that everybody has to adhere to,” he says. “Everybody–I don’t care who you are.”
Wilkens has amply demonstrated that he will brook little deviance from his team concept, helping orchestrate the departure of players whom he deems one-dimensional or excessively egocentric. Last season Atlanta dealt its captain and all-time scoring leader, Dominique Wilkins, for a player with better-rounded skills. And last week the Hawks traded Kevin Willis, who, while slated to be the team’s leading scorer and rebounder, proved immune to the concept of the pass. “People think because Lenny is low-key that you can step on him,” says Auerbach. “Nobody pushes him around.”
The irony can’t be lost on Wilkens that he may finally gain the spotlight in a year in which the Hawks figure to struggle. The team is young and inexperienced, with seven new players on its roster. Off its 1-4 opening week, Wilkens, who hoped to have the record wrapped up for Christmas, could still be pursuing it well into 1995. But nothing can detract from Wilkens’s historic accomplishment. He has proved himself a man for all seasons, not just any one.
Wilkens has coached for 21 years with four franchises. Only Red Auerbach has more wins–938.
Seattle 1969-72 1977-85 478 Wins 402 Loses Portland 1974-76 75 Wins 89 Losses Cleveland 1986-93 316 Wins 258 Losses Atlanta 1993-94 57 Wins 25 Losses
