Passion, Loyalty and the Kings' Slightly Nutty Professor
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Passion, loyalty and the Kings' slightly nutty professor Brian Goorjian Photo: Tim Clayton December 31, 2006 Sometimes misunderstood, Brian Goorjian only wants the best for basketball in Australia, writes David Sygall. The dust from the Watts race riots had barely settled when Brian Goorjian's father, Ed, taught the future Boomers coach the first great lesson of his life. They were en route to Disneyland but Ed made a detour and took 12-year-old Brian to the tough Los Angeles district of Watts. They parked near a court where some African-American kids were playing a fast, rough game of basketball, watched for a while and moved on. After Disneyland they drove back past Watts and the same kids were playing. Ed took Brian to a LA Lakers game that night but instead of driving directly home afterwards, he again veered past Watts. "The same kids were playing under a spotlight," Goorjian recalls. " Dad said to me: 'It starts now. If you want to play basketball, that's what you're up against'." Years later, Goorjian received another inspirational directive from his father. He'd been offered a playing spot in Australia for no payment. People advised him to stay in the US, but Ed disagreed and told Brian to go. Be passionate about basketball, he said, and it will be good to you. "Those two stories explain me," Goorjian says. "My dad believed that while you're resting, someone else is working hard - and he's going to kick your ass." No one can kick Goorjian. Twenty-odd years after Ed advised him to follow his heart, Goorjian has become Australia's greatest basketball coach. All his teams since 1990 have made the semi-finals or better. He's won five championships, three in a row with the Sydney Kings, is a three-time NBL coach of the year and has a winning rate of nearly 70per cent. He's been the Boomers coach since 2001, overseeing their rebuilding after the 2000 Olympics. Despite all this, Goorjian is rarely rated among Australia's best sporting minds. Now, he's one of just a couple of men propping up the sport in Australia. "We're lucky to have him," says Goorjian's lifelong friend, former North Melbourne Giants coach Bruce Palmer. "There's guys who've done well from basketball here but given nothing back. Brian hasn't taken up offers from overseas and he deserves proper rewards for that - but they don't exist here. Coaching here is challenging, but he's invested in Australia and he's incredibly loyal." Goorjian's loyalty lesson came, no surprise, from Ed. When, as a player, he was offered $10,000 to change clubs, Ed's advice was: "10 grand means shit. You don't break loyalty for 10 grand. Call me up on 500 grand and we'll talk. Loyalty's No. 1. "I've had better offers to coach but I came to this country with nothing and it's been good to me," Goorjian says. "Our sport is crying, it needs help. I'm not the saviour but I think I'm a fairly important piece." Goorjian's loyalty has played out in other ways. His motor-mouth drops at the mention of Jay Brehmer. Brehmer, a basketball fanatic and great character, was a college coach in the US "who fell off the planet and ended up in Perth". He came to Melbourne after coaching the Wildcats and befriended other US expats, who enjoyed a game and drink each Friday. "He had a great knowledge and love of the game and we became friends," Goorjian says. "Then, one day, I got a message saying that he was seriously ill in a hospice. He had no family, was alone and I couldn't leave him. I went in every day and he'd talk like he'd live forever. The day before he died he told me about how to defend first option. He came to a game of mine looking like death and the next morning we talked for three hours. He passed away that night." Palmer went to the funeral with Goorjian. "Brian was torn apart," Palmer says. "It said a lot about Brian. When he's passionate about something, it's genuine." Recently, Goorjian was visiting a seriously ill child. The experience was profound. "When he left hospital the parents thanked me and I said 'You've done more for me than I've done for you'," he says. "Each time I saw him I got more energy and felt better. I view things clearer now and I've told my players they should appreciate what they've got." Goorjian grew up near Glendale, California, in what he describes as a "Happy Days-style environment". "He was a troublemaker, a horrible student - not a dunce, but he'd sit next to one," says schoolmate Palmer. "He always had a great sense of humour. He was a small kid but, because of his great wit, no one kicked the shit out of him." Ed was the school's basketball coach and from age five, Goorjian would sit behind him and learn. He did that every game until he became captain. "Everyone has somebody they aspire to be and mine was my dad," he says. "Because of the way he coached, we lived and breathed basketball. It was all I knew and I wanted it to become my life." It still is his life. A typical day for the fit 54-year-old consists of coaching, watching tapes, calling contacts in the US, working with his players - and then a walk and a coffee at Coogee Beach. He is dedicated, but there is a lighter side. "He's intense and gets discipline from us," says Kings captain Jason Smith, who has played under Goorjian for 13 seasons. "If you don't do what he expects, you'll hear about it. He's got the player's best interests at heart but he knows how to get the best out of you. He can be a hard-ass on the court but also bring a lighter side to training. He knows when there's a time to loosen up." Kings assistant coach Bill Tomlinson describes Goorjian as a "nutty professor". "He is so dedicated to the game that often you'll hear from him, 'Where's my car keys? Where's my phone? Where's my bag'?" Tomlinson says. "He's into basketball 24/7. He's a bit like the nutty professor. But with basketball, he's like a real professor." Palmer says that when Goorjian focuses on something, nothing else matters. And Goorjian has a lot to focus on now. His injury-struck Kings are fourth and the Boomers are against the odds. He feels obligated to Australian basketball. "What do you get with 680 games, 450 wins? You get credibility," he says. "I know I'm important to basketball here. My profile now is different to a few years ago. I'm aware that what I say people listen to. I have to be aware of the way I carry myself, the way I talk to the media, how I dress, how I am with other coaches. There's a huge responsibility as national coach.” "The league and the sport does the Boomers a tremendous disservice. I don't think the country or the league supports the national program as it should. In the past four years we've gone nowhere. We've got two years with this tremendous talent to make something happen. I need to generate love for this team and we need to go to Beijing and medal. I'll feel good if we can do that. "The national team is hugely important. I'll never be involved in anything as important as this again. Basketball's at the crossroads." A tough task, which makes you wonder why he has stayed when he has had better offers overseas. "I've lived in Melbourne, Sydney and grew up in Los Angeles," he says. "Some people around me have become big-time and are rich. But when they come to Coogee, we have a beer and walk to Bondi, they all say 'Brian, it doesn't get any better than this.' I may not be a millionaire but I live the lifestyle. "I love Sydney. I want the league to take off and I want the national team to medal. Of course, if someone said here's a million to coach in Russia, I'd go. I'm not an idiot, but the offers I've had have not been that much better. "My dad said to me when he was last here 'Don't worry about those guys earning millions. You live the kind of life they do. You live in the most beautiful city in the world.' I really appreciate that these days." Goorjian's forthright style may not have endeared him to everyone. Palmer, however, believes his friend's value cannot be underestimated. "There's Rod Macqueen, Kevin Sheedy, Ric Charlesworth, these great coaches share one thing: there are no contradictions in them," he says. "They live exactly what they preach. It's a special thing and, in basketball, there's no one close to Brian." ■ On life 'My dad believed that while you're resting, someone else is working hard - and he's going to kick your ass' ■ On basketball 'Our sport is crying, it needs help. I'm not the saviour but I think I'm a fairly important piece' ■ On living in Sydney 'My dad said to me when he was last here 'Don't worry about those guys earning millions.