NO TO-MORROW IN JERSEY: AnthonyMorrow walks off the court in the Prudential Center for the final time. The team honored its 35 year history in New Jersey with a halftime celebration that included Nets greats, like Derrick Coleman (above, talking with Nets assistant Mario Elie) before the team moves to Brooklyn next year. (Reuters)
NO TO-MORROW IN JERSEY: Anthony Morrow walks off the court in the Prudential Center for the final time. The team honored its 35 year history in New Jersey with a halftime celebration that included Nets greats, like Derrick Coleman (inset, talking with Nets assistant Mario Elie) before the team moves to Brooklyn next year. (
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Jersey Joe Taub (Walcott will have to stand down) and his brother, Henry, whose brainstorm Automatic Data Processing, at 21, rocket-boosted their family from privation to privileged, returned the Nets’ franchise to the Garden State in 1978 when Roy Boe’s financial discredit forced him to sell.
Eleven years earlier, the Arthur Brown-owned team had coupled with ten other ABA new-borns and played its first season in Teaneck Armory as The Americans and, no, Jay was not its lead singer.
That distinction belonged to Levern (Jelly) Tart, backed up by Tony Jackson, owner of the most picturesque jumper I’ve ever eyeballed, and Artie Heyman, whom I first saw play at Oceanside High School against Larry Brown’s Long Beach.
So, it was late 1967, or early ’68, and here I am again, a spectator, watching Heyman and Brown, who had developed quite an aversion for each other while representing Duke and UNC, exchange hard fouls and harsh words.
Bruce Spraggins must have felt it was open season on Brown, which it was; only Rick Barry was used more for target practice throughout his NBA-ABA-NBA career … by teammates, too. No sooner had my old Rucker friend nailed Brown on general principals than New Orleans Buccaneers’ teammate Doug Moe retaliated … a replay of how it worked while they were together at Carolina.
Right then and there I knew I had found a new home and a unique team to follow, first as a fan and two years later as the Nets’ irregular beat writer, because nobody else wanted the job.
For whatever reason, coach Max Zaslofsky (53-103) got the heave from that game. Since there were no assistants in pro ball until Bill Sharman hired K.C. Jones to help him guide the Utah Stars to the ’71 ABA championship over the Kentucky Colonels, guard Mel Nowell took over.
The Americans came from far behind for the victory. Asked what turned things around, Heyman told the assembled journalist or two, “Max’s ejection.” A few days later, he was traded to Pittsburgh.
Although the Nets had some fascinating flashes in Commack, Island Garden and the Nassau Coliseum, they won entirely too much (two titles) and showcased way too many classy chassis for a budding misanthropist. They became infinitely more appealing as an NBA entry once relocated in Piscataway, where falling asleep at the wheel on return trips to Manhattan was inconceivable in the wake of the nightly enjoyment.
The wildest spectacle, pre-Ron Artest, took place moments after the Rockets had beaten the Nets. A teenage kid screamed something indecent at Barry and he chased him futilely up the steep stairs from courtside to the second level, knocking over a lady in her 70s in the process. Lucky for Barry, lawsuits and suspensions weren’t the rage back then. Nevertheless, he spent a great deal of time afterward on bended knee with the woman and her husband.
Once Jersey Joe Taub got the Nets re-situated in ’80, there was no stopping him. If you had a name, he wanted it plastered on the Meadowlands’ marquee. He vigorously pursued Hubie Brown, then the coach of the Hawks, and fleetingly had the permission of managing partner Mike Gearon to interview him on an off day during the ’80-81 season.
They met in New York. Hubie had a list of about 20 things he wanted, including a 200G-per-year salary. Stuff like the tax difference between Georgia and New York, a horse for his daughter and like that. Without a blink, Taub said yes to everything, one request at a time.
“OK, that’s great.” Hubie said when the non-negotiation was all over. “I’ll think about it.”
When Hubie hesitated to pledge allegiance, it was essentially the end of the beginning. Gearon quickly withdrew permission and waited until Taub had committed to Larry Brown, whom he had shoplifted in-season from UCLA, before firing Hubie with three games left.
At the outset of ’82-83, when Hubie was all but locked up by the Knicks, Taub offered to trade Larry for him even up. MSG president Sonny Werblin declined, and tacked on an extra 50G to his new coach’s contract.
That you didn’t know until now. What you do know is that Larry was fired six games before the first-round playoff series with the Knicks was to commence when it was discovered he had agreed to coach Kansas the following season.
Clearly, there was no untamed path Jersey Joe Taub wouldn’t explore to secure a winning edge unless it meant losing money. He bristles to this day that writers ridiculed his partnership, dubbed the Secaucus Seven.
“We were ridiculed for supposedly not knowing what we were doing and spending unwisely,” he told me recently. “As long as I owned the team we never showed a deficit.”
Those even mildly acquainted with Taub, or anyone who has ever worked for him, knows, of course, his money is your money, if you need it. Like his deceased (March 31, 2011) brother, Henry, his benevolence is legendary. Born in Paterson and still devoted to its citizenship, especially its children, his first passionate love remains New Jersey.
That’s why Taub was not in the Prudential Center last night for the Nets’ Jersey finale. While outsiders are caught up celebrating next season’s shift to Brooklyn, Taub, still a minor owner and multi-ticket season holder, is in mourning.
“I feel terrible,” he told me yesterday. “My mission was to bring back the team to Jersey, and for 35 years it has been my life. I’ve got great memories, but what makes me most happy is so many of our players [too many to name] called. They know how much I care about the team.”
More important, many of them know firsthand how much Taub cares about them. A couple of weeks ago, Albert King needed two heart stents. Taub made sure he had it done in the best hospital by the finest doctor and got the greatest care.
Micheal Ray Richardson was probably Jersey Joe’s favorite. Before he would sell his majority share in ’84, he demanded Sugar be given a new contract worth 700G per.
Taub did everything possible to help Richardson recover from his drug addiction and ease his suffering, and continues to father him in good times.
“This is really tough on me,” Taub said. “I told them I’d be out of town Monday. But I will be in the stands when they open in Brooklyn.”