Nice Guys Finish Last

Fire Maurice Cheeks.

by E. James Beale

The 76ers, heading into Wednesday's game against the Cleveland Cavaliers, were 9-12, and at the bottom of the Atlantic division. Considering that they shelled out more than $160 million in signings this offseason, that's a considerable disappointment. The team can't decide on a style of play, doesn't properly adjust to its opposition and makes bad mistakes at important moments. All this, I'm sorry to say, is the fault of head coach Maurice Cheeks, who has lost his team's focus, confidence and attention. If the Sixers want to make noise in the playoffs, the team needs to lose him. 

This is not an over-reaction to a slump; the Sixers' problems are systemic. In a recent game against the Orlando Magic, the team fell behind twice in the last minute, both times on a short three-pointer from the left corner. Afterward, Cheeks explained that this had been the strategy: Thaddeus Young (the player covering the shooter) was supposed to help out on penetration. The corner three is "the hardest shot in the game," Cheeks explained, apparently unaware that the Magic, as a team, shoot 40 percent from that spot — a better percentage than from almost anywhere else beyond the arc.

Maybe worse, Cheeks doesn't seem to have a clear understanding of his personnel. Repeatedly this season the coach has been asked if his team needs an identity. "No," he replies, "get stops and get out and run, that's our identity." While that may have been the Sixers' identity last year, it isn't a style that fits the '09 edition — unless Cheeks wants to bench Elton Brand, his $80 million power forward. Being a running team is predicated on being faster than your opponent, something last year's Sixers, with Andre Iguodala playing small forward, almost always were. This year, with Iguodala playing shooting guard and the bigger Young at his old position, they're not.

Not that Cheeks has settled on a rotation long enough to let any style of play develop. Players need consistent minutes together to get their sea legs in game situations. Last Saturday, all 12 Sixers took the floor in the first half. This wasn't an inspired product of set shifts, or even Cheeks punishing specific mistakes; the coach was simply motivated, it seemed, by whims. Think I'm exaggerating? Through Wednesday, here is a complete list of rookie Marreese Speights' minutes per game: 0, 6, 0, 22, 17, 5, 10, 20, 1, 17, 12, 15, 12, 8, 14, 15, 19, 26, 6, 23, 16.

Maximillian Cohen could spend weeks looking at those numbers and not find a pattern. And players have noticed. Samuel Dalembert has complained that "Lou Williams last year [played] freely. We need to let him be free." The subtext was obvious: Dalembert himself is getting more than seven minutes less per game, and his numbers are down across the board. Until Cheeks trims the rotation, the 5-13 guys will look over their shoulders after every dead ball.

On top of all this, the players are tuning out the coach's advice. Next time you're at a game, watch the huddle closely during a time-out: More often than not, the Sixers are glancing at the Jumbotron and leaning back in their chairs instead of focusing on their coach and his clipboard. It's not that the guys don't like Cheeks — they do — it's that he's become a fun uncle to them, someone they like but don't see as a source of wisdom. The team continues to play hard, but effort only means so much when your opponent knows their plays and you don't. 

So, why aren't more people asking about Cheeks' job security? No less an authority than Sixers' GM Ed Stefanski warned that the Sixers "have to start putting it all together," yet the media hasn't called for Cheeks' head. Part of this is indifference — the Wachovia Center has been the second-emptiest stadium in the NBA this season, and Philadelphia's dailies have shifted their focus almost entirely to football. But a bigger part is the coach's personality: Cheeks is really personable. Unlike, say, Andy Reid, whose next good quote will be his first, Cheeks pals around with the press. He's not being political, either — he's just as friendly with the attendants outside the locker room. And let's not forget that time when Cheeks (then the coach of the Portland Trailblazers) helped a struggling young singer through the national anthem. He's a good guy.

Unfortunately, "good guy" isn't a qualification for an NBA head coach. Competence is. The Sixers need to decide if they want the face of their team to be charismatic, intelligent and gracious — or if they want to win.

(e.james.beale@citypaper.net)

Disagree? Fire back in the comments or on Beale's blog: citypaper.net/sports.