Re: A hard drive powers Mavs' system I found this article off of dallas-mavs.com. It shows how intense Avery is. I love the way he thinks though it is not realistic. <div class='quotetop'>QUOTE </div><div class='quotemain'>A hard drive powers Mavs' system --------------------------------------------------------------------------------Mavericks coach keeps 82-0 as his mind-set, so he's a tough critic08:14 PM CST on Sunday, December 24, 2006By EDDIE SEFKO / The Dallas Morning News If you've ever wondered what happens inside a coach's head, Dirk Nowitzki can lift up Avery Johnson's scalp and give you a glimpse of what goes on between the ears. "He says to me all the time that we should not lose one game," Nowitzki says. "We've got the structure and got all the areas covered. He just says if we play our style, to our abilities, there's no way we lose games. He believes that much in us. "He's one of the most intense guys we've ever been around. And he's got a lot more wires than anybody else." This is how the General's mind works. From a poor upbringing in the projects of New Orleans to trying to make it as a vertically challenged point guard in a big man's game, life lessons have augmented what the Good Lord gave him and Johnson has emerged as a competitive, driven voice on the local sports scene. A recent vignette captured the way he really thinks. While the Mavericks were losing the first four games of the season, somebody mentioned to Johnson that, sometimes, you just get beat. Johnson tilted his head from side to side, paused a few moments, then said: "I guess." In his world, and in his mind, losing shouldn't happen. And when it does, there's always something he could have done to prevent it. "He is very, very slow to accept losing," assistant coach Del Harris says. Actually, he never accepts it. Learns from it? Yes. Abhors it? Absolutely. But never really accepts it. And, as Nowitzki and his teammates have learned, Johnson honestly thinks the Mavericks should win every game. And that's the message he imparts. "And I mean really think it," Johnson says. "Don't just let it be a sound bite." Normal ... for a coach Don Kalkstein is the Mavericks' performance-enhancement coach. He is around the team on a regular basis and talks to players and coaches during practices, games and downtime. He is there to analyze their moods and discuss their problems. He has known Johnson since his playing days. "Remember a few years back when Avery was on the team that started out 14-0?" Kalkstein says. "After a while, you'd hear guys say, geez, 14-0, this is great, but you know we're not going to win all 82. "Avery was the guy going, 'Why not?' " Coaches around the NBA and other leagues would say they are no different. And in general, coaching is a business that requires one to be an eternal optimist while also being the harshest of critics. No matter what faults you think Mavericks players have, Johnson knows them better than you do. The difference is he has the wherewithal to correct or minimize them. It is that drive to improve that Johnson displays 24/7. And it happens win or lose. "That's the responsibility I have," Johnson says. "I said that when I signed on for this job. "The other night, for example, Sacramento attacked our zone defense in a way that I didn't emphasize enough. But we won the game. So we're sitting on the plane and I'm saying I should have emphasized that more. I knew they were going to do it." Johnson thinks he's normal for a coach. "All the good ones I've played for pretty much came from the same cloth," he says. "I'm a product of the way I played the game. Always having to climb hurdles and underdog roles. Stuff like that, going back to my childhood, is always a frame of reference." Obsessing is ... key Johnson's players have seen him transform from an intense, never-back-down player to an intense, never-back-down coach. "The coaches that have played, they think a little differently than normal guys," Devin Harris says. "They always think they can do something better, tweak a little something and it'll work." And when Johnson latches onto a detail that he wants to drive home to his team, he can be relentless. "I think to be a really good coach, you got to have some sort of obsessive trait in your personality," Harris says. "He obsesses over the smallest details ? the smallest." In that respect, Johnson subscribes to the theory that there's a reason Rome wasn't built in a day. It's because there weren't enough workers. It's his job to make sure there are enough workers, himself included, to build the Mavericks day by day. So if you could peer into Johnson's brain, what would you find? First, the competitive juices would spew out like they'd had the shrink-wrap punctured. But after that, Kalkstein says, you'd be overwhelmed with something else. "Fire and brimstone," he says, half-joking. "In all seriousness, you'd see a refusal to accept things that don't succeed. When things don't work, he scratches and claws to find out why. And he's right back at the table strategizing. "The ones that have that sixth gear always seem to be successful." Ego ... check Harris has his own idea of what you'd find if you opened up the General's head. "Tick-tocking, clocks working at all hours," Harris says. "He's probably thinking about stuff in his sleep. He coaches like he played ? very competitive, tough-minded." There are concerns with Johnson being as high-strung at his work as he is. Burnout has crippled coaches who couldn't balance the pressure of the job with the other needed elements of life, like family, faith and philanthropy, all of which are prominent on Johnson's plate. He relies on all those things, and a strong support crew within the Mavericks, to stay grounded. He has a substantial ego, true. Most people at the top of the NBA business do. That's part of how they got there. But it's not the most important part. "What's in my brain?" Johnson says, repeating the question. "I would hope passion and competitive juices and confidence and competence. I would hope all of those things would be there. And that I really care about people. And in particular, since we're talking about basketball, I really care about my players." Passion and compassion. That's why he can scream Jason Terry's head off at practice one afternoon, then talk about the family the next morning at breakfast. It's the balance he needs. And the Mavericks need, too. http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcont...e.26dc893.htmlBTW, NBA.com Best of 2006 has some best and worst moments about the Mavs: http://www.nba.com/broadband/best_of_2006.html</div>
