FOR some strange reason, Elgin Baylor’s unforeseen exodus from the Clippers after 22 years of service in their executive branch has provoked a bombardment of wonderful, inspiring and melancholy written stories about his radiant accomplishments during a 14-season NBA odyssey.
For a minute there I almost thought I’d heard wrong and that Baylor actually had died at age 74 rather than “resigned” from a frequently reviled franchise he never played for.
Spray what you want about Donald Sterling, but it was the Paper Clips’ oddball owner who brought Baylor back into the league after he had retired, not Lakers landlord Dr. Jerry Buss.
I’m not saying the only organization Baylor ever suited up for was under any obligation to give him a job/handout.
Unlike today when a team’s front office comprises a president, capologist, GM, assistant GM, personnel director, head scout and a horde of underlings, management included a layer or two at most.
In 1971, when a hurting Baylor, having played a mere two games the previous season due to injury, called it a career nine games into what turned out to be an immortal championship season, there was room for Fred Schaus, who was LA’s lone decision-maker aside from owner Jack Kent Cooke. Bill Sharman followed and next was Jerry West.
What I am saying is, Sterling understood the importance of recruiting a recognizable face with immaculate character to magnetize fans who couldn’t afford good Lakers tickets. Nobody’s suggesting Sterling’s motive for hiring Baylor was humanitarian. First and foremost he’s a businessman.
The fact remains, Sterling put Baylor back in the limelight when every other owner in the league, especially Buss, gave no thought to finding room at the top for him. That relationship has endured over two decades. Without a doubt, Baylor has been the league’s lowest paid VP of basketball operations each and every year. At the same time, the salary hasn’t been all that shabby (400G per for quite some time) and deposits were steady.
What executive wouldn’t like to be in that position? How many last anywhere near that long with the same team? In the NBA there’s Red Auerbach, Jerry Colangelo (before buying the Suns), Stan Kasten, Donnie Walsh. Who, if anybody else, am I missing? How many executives get blamed and fired after one losing season? Baylor owned a customized lottery seat in Secaucus.
Should Baylor have been held accountable for the Clippers’ raggedy regular-season routine? How could Sterling do that with a straight face and a clean conscience when he meddled more than every owner in the Pacific Division combined, and often with the “help” of Raiders’ Al Davis or just some ordinary citizen (or sportswriter) he’d just met?
I’m unsure if this is true, but I’m told the Clippers never signed a free agent and rarely made an in-season trade (Danny Manning for Dominique Wilkins) before Mike Dunleavy arrived in 2003. Think it might be a bit complicated to build a winner if you’re prohibited from following through on anything?
Only when Dunleavy was hired as coach did Sterling begin to dig deep and back off . . . though he’s certainly had some public (see last season’s squabble with M.D.) and private relapses that squashed a consequential deal or three.
Yet, for the most part, within financial reason, Sterling (and president Andy Roeser) have trusted Dunleavy to construct the Clippers the way he sees fit. That includes trades, signings, extensions and the draft.
In other words, since ’03, Baylor, who had very little say before that, essentially has been powerless. While his voice continued to be heard in management meetings regarding all of the above and Dunleavy always valued his basketball opinion, he never traveled to see players and seldom spoke to rival executives or agents by phone.
Despite Baylor’s overt (within the league) lack of responsibility and the fact Dunleavy was calling all the shots, Elgin’s peers voted him Executive of the Year in 2006 after the Clips posted their best record (47-35) since moving to California in 1978 and reached the second round (beating the Nuggets 4-1 and losing to the Suns 4-3) of the playoffs.
If that’s not weird enough, Sterling had given serious thought to letting Baylor go before that season. I’m uncertain why he changed his mind. Two years later, a few weeks ago, to be almost exact, Baylor was asked to surrender his title, vacate his brand new office at the team’s beautiful new practice facility and become a consultant, at a pay cut, of course. Baylor angrily refused.
A week or so later, said a source, Sterling relented, telling Baylor he could remain on the job, if you will. His answer was not to attend training camp. After a week of being a no-show, Baylor was told he had to resign within a day or the club would file the necessary separation papers and make the subsequent announcement that included Dunleavy’s official promotion to GM.
Now there’s talk by Johnnie Cochran’s former law partner regarding a possible age-discrimination law suit . . . and worse. After 22 years of accepting paychecks and his plight, Baylor is standing up to Sterling. There had to be far more righteous fights to pick in the past, it says here. As great a player as he was (whatever that’s worth in this circumstance), I can’t say I’m rooting for him to win.