Skip to content
Chicago Tribune
PUBLISHED: | UPDATED:
Getting your Trinity Audio player ready...

Four years ago there was a picture of an elevator on the cover of the Golden State Warriors’ media guide. Head coach Don Nelson, the sixth-winningest coach in NBA history, was looking out the elevator door, pressing the “up” button. Pictured inside with Nelson were: Chris Webber, the hottest young big man in the game; Tim Hardaway, the tough, quick point guard; Chris Mullin, the steady, savvy veteran; and a promising third-year guard named Latrell Sprewell. The needle above the elevator was in motion, headed for a level labeled “NBA Finals.”

And that was when the elevator cable snapped.

Nelson feuded with Webber, who was traded before the season began. Under fire, Nelson didn’t survive the year. The next season Sprewell and Hardaway got into it and Hardaway was shipped out. Mullin left a year later.

By the start of this season there was almost nothing left. The franchise has changed owners, coaches (three times), general managers (twice), uniforms, mascots and virtually the entire roster. When the team moved into its renovated arena this year, almost the only people left from the 1994-95 season were Sprewell and trainer Tom Abdenour.

So last week, when the Warriors “terminated” Sprewell after he choked, threatened and punched coach P.J. Carlesimo, it wasn’t just the end of the All-Star guard’s career with the team, it was the end of an era. It has been fascinating, in a sick way, to watch the franchise implode, with Sprewell–moody, gifted, unreadable–in the middle of the whole messy crash.

Looking back on it, it was probably a poor idea to hand the keys to the franchise over to Sprewell. Virtually unknown coming out of Alabama–he wasn’t even a full-time starter until his senior year–Sprewell had two career-altering experiences in his second year. First, he came under the spell of Webber, the NBA Rookie of the Year. Second, he had a sudden, breakout year on the floor, hitting 141 three-pointers.

Sprewell wouldn’t hit that many threes for three seasons, but it didn’t matter. With Michael Jordan taking a year off to play baseball, Sprewell was an established All-Star. And when Nelson shipped out Webber, it established something else: Sprewell didn’t like Nelson, and he didn’t like any of Nelson’s guys.

No one knew it at the time, but a polar front was sweeping over the franchise. The Oakland Coliseum Arena was about to become the Siberia of the NBA.

The pattern was set early. Sprewell didn’t pass the ball to Tom Gugliotta because he was the player the Warriors picked up for Webber. Unhappy, Gugliotta wanted out. In time, so did others, from center Rony Seikaly to Mullin to Mark Price to B.J. Armstrong.

The civil war was with Hardaway. A cranky, opinionated winner, Hardaway was not about to stand around and let Sprewell dominate the ball. He got in Sprewell’s face, and Sprewell responded by calling him a “Nellie brown-noser.”

The new administration, General Manager Dave Twardzik and head coach Rick Adelman, had to make a choice. Sprewell’s contract was up and Hardaway, coming back from a knee problem, was chunky and out of shape.

They picked Sprewell, trading Hardaway and handing “Spree” a four-year, $32 million contract before last season. It was easy to conclude that the team was his, which Adelman did nothing to discourage.

Although the Warriors were just 30-52 last year, Sprewell had a wonderful time. He attempted 1,444 field goals and scored a career-best 24.2 points a game. But to do it he took 151 more shots than anyone else and turned the ball over 322 times. Adelman only stood on the sideline and grimaced.

That’s why, when Adelman was fired and Carlesimo took over the team, it was a bit of a setup. A documented screamer, Carlesimo was taking on a player who had the run of the floor. Carlesimo and Sprewell clashed immediately, and the new ownership, which has been slow to act, began ponderously looking at trade options.

The explosion came Monday at practice. According to players, Sprewell ran hard during the scrimmage, but was lackadaisical during shooting drills. Carlesimo told him to pick up the pace. Sprewell told him he didn’t want to hear it. Carlesimo advanced, Sprewell warned him to stay back, and Carlesimo kept coming.

Sprewell erupted, putting his hands around Carlesimo’s throat. He was pulled off–although some reports say some players took their time–left practice, then returned some 20 minutes later to take a wild swing at Carlesimo. He missed, of course, since he is only hitting about 42 percent of the shots he takes, but the result has been Sprewell’s termination, the one-year suspension from the NBA and a weeklong national furor.

Longtime Warriors fans, hearing that some of the players are sympathetic to Sprewell, can only groan. After all, this is where they came in. And last time the team not only lost its best player and the coach, but the franchise went straight to the cellar. At least they don’t have far to fall.