Welp… Why not dive right in. Here are just some of my thoughts regarding a certain former NBA head coach…

Things that I know about Pat Riley:

1. He is perhaps the greatest quitter of our time
2. He is probably one of the smartest men in Professional sports
3. He looks like a cross between Emilio Estevez as Coach Gordon Bombay trying to impress Iceland in D-2 and Willem Dafoe’s portrayal of a gay detective in Boondock Saints
4. He is an exceptional douche

Lets start from the top. Now perhaps I’m biased here, but I believe Riles’ history of quitting on people, organizations and that awesome fu manchu he used to sport (clearly his only redeeming quality) is well documented. We all know how big Pat came to fame and glory… riding the long and glorious coattails of none other than Kurt “ Rambo” “Superman” Rambis. I mean, honestly, who couldn’t win 4 championships with Rambo running the show and laying people out on a regular basis? And for that matter, how did he only win 4?? Seriously, though, I do give him props where they are due, and like many fine coaches who have been in the right place at the right time (AHEMPHILJACKSONCOUGHBLARGRRRAHEM), Riles took the greatness he was given and brought us what we have come to know only as Showtime. Not to say I don’t think any number of coaches couldn’t (triple negative… sweeet!) have taken Magic, Worthy, Kareem and the gang to equally as many, if not more championships, but it is what it is, and I suppose he deserves some credit (such is my view of NBA coaching… and MLB managing for that matter). Anyway… back to Riley being a big fat quitter…

Now here’s the thing about Riley: he brought me some of the most loved and cherished basketball memories of my life. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to be able to watch John Starks brick 3 after 3, Charles Oakley dive after 8-10 balls a game and good ole Mase just move everyone out of the way with his massive truck of a derriere (but alas, that is a story for another day). And as I write this, I’m once again reminded, it was the players I loved, not the man who would eventually bolt as if he just impregnated Charles Dolan’s wife and needed to get out of town before Chucky realized he was too old to even get it up anymore. As quickly as Riles came to New York and became loved, he quit on the team and became exponentially more hated even quicker. Not only did he bolt after a season during which he continually preached about committing and not being greedy, but his negotiations with the Heat were illegal under NBA rules and were largely agreed upon during his tenure with the Knicks. I guess he figured that he had taken the Knicks as far as they could be taken, and he might as well get out before the building started burning down (as he doused the place with gasoline… only to be saved by JEFF VAN GUNDY: FIRE FIGHTER EXTRAORDINARE!). Could he not have stuck around for at least one more run at a title?! Try to finish what he started? They came so close. Boo. Quitter.

So he went on to Miami where he would coach to varying degrees of success for many years. This was nice for him… until!!…. GASP!!! …. The Heat started to!!!!!!…… OH NO!!!!!….. LOSE!!!!! That’s right!! They became a bunch of fuckin losers! The Heat won just 36 games in 2001-’02 and only 25 on 2002-’03. So, what do you suppose Pat did in times of trouble? I’m not quite sure, but if memory serves correctly, he… now what’s another word for quit? Fuck, let me get out the thesaurus… Resign? Naa. Relinquish? Eh. Surcease? Too fancy. Ooo I like this one: Abandon… nice. So he abandoned his post as Miami’s head coach because, why else? They didn’t win. He moved to the front office and bided his time. Unfortunately the karma gods missed this one (although as I will explain later, they generally did a good job of fucking up Riley’s shit) and allowed him to somehow stumble across Dwayne Wade. Oops.

After sliding out of the way of the bullet, he fed Stan Van Gundy to the wolves, only to watch him do a stupendiforously, unexpectedly splendid job (improving to 42 wins in ‘03-’04, winning 59 games in ‘04-’05 and bringing the Heat painfully close to their first NBA finals birth)! This undoubtedly angered the great Riles, for he is the only man fit to sit on a bench and watch extraordinarily good basketball players make him undeservedly famed and beloved! (Plus, like, what’s up with Stan’s hair, man?? Does anyone else think he could stand to use some more product in there? After all, any self-respecting coach knows, more product = more awesomeness!) Long story short, Shaq comes in, he fucks over Stan Van (by taking over coaching duties in the middle of the 2005-06 season) and… bam! Tough Actin’ Tinactin!… errr, I mean… he won another fuckin championship. Now, I will acknowledge that among many things, Pat is no idiot. Despite rolling over a number of people and organizations in his path, Pat made sure that he was only on the bench when he had a legitimate shot to win. I suppose there’s something to be said for that (douche).

But luckily for the Stan Van Gundys and the Charles Dolans of the world (and the me’s of the world)… karma is a bitch. The Knicks went on to happily eviscerate the Heat in every playoff matchup they had (yes, I am choosing to ignore the PJ Brown- thug mansion -Charlie Ward flip series, it never happened). Stan Van is currently lucky enough to be the proud papa of the 22-year-old beast who’s more God than man, D-wight Howard. And, now, as the Heat are once again not good at winning basketball games, poor Riles shockingly decided to hang it up (after embarrassingly taking much of the end of this season off to “scout”) . He vomited some bullshit about his heart not being in it and not being able to give it his all. I would, however, be willing to bet that with a healthy Wade and an effective Shaq, his heart would be juuuuust fine. And so… he is forced to watch from the sidelines as his superstar makes it look more like- fall down 7 times, make that 8, shit…9- and his Diesel is getting oiled up in the desert. Now all that’s left for him to do is cheer away from his luxury box. That is of course, until the Heat get good again, and he can fuck someone else over on his way to proving what a “great coach” he truly is. Pat Riley: 1^st class coach? I suppose. 1^st class douche? Most certainly.

John Edward: Look, what I do doesn’t hurt anybody. I give people closure and help them cope with life.

Stan: No, you give them false hope and a belief in something that isn’t real.

John Edward: But I’m a psychic.

Stan: No dude, you’re a douche.

John Edward: I’m not a douche! What if I really believe that dead people talk to me?

Stan: Then you’re a stupid douche.

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