Sports

NBA turns back on some of its own

The NBA advertises it cares and, in many ways concerning many outsiders, it does. Still, it cares as much or more about the league’s image, I submit, which is weird because so often it cares little about its own.

Over the last few years, but progressively more of late, loyalty to former employees both familiar and unrecognizable, some important to their team’s growth, others pivotal in their success, has vaporized in far too many cases.

Mournfully, in today’s unappreciative, money-grubbing, power consumed NBA, the (final) episode is always discourteous and sometimes categorically ghastly.

On Aug. 21, Matt Dobek, a strict Catholic and devout family man with a legion of faithful friends, hung himself in his family garage. It was a day before his mother’s birthday. He was deeply depressed at no longer being the Pistons’ vice president of publicity.

In May, Pistons’ officials had abruptly fired him–fraudulently accusing him of leaking another employees’ pending firing–as well as three other staff members who had pledged allegiance to the franchise for a combined century-plus.

Dobek, 51, spent his whole adult life, 29 years, doing the impossible by performing his job to the satisfaction of supervisors and the media alike. He protected “my boys” no matter what, kept front page secrets to himself, catered to Chuck Daly during his last weeks on earth, and helped anyone who asked.

He literally gave his life to the Pistons because they were his life.

Nothing compares, of course, to Dobek’s tragedy, provoked by the unjust treatment by one unfeeling superior, Marilyn Hauser. Not that a horde of hollow hooples haven’t been similarly trying to be definitively disrespectful and cold.

Two weeks before the season began, Celtics head coach Doc Rivers, who kept assistant Clifford Ray on hold the whole summer, informed him his services would no longer be needed.

An agreement eventually was signed by Ray, who was pressured by team president Danny Ainge to sign by a certain date (without getting lawyers involved) or forget it. Ray, the 1974-75 champion Warriors’ starting center, received $100,000 to go away quietly, enough to keep him and his family (including a 13-year-old son) going for a year or so.

Additionally, the Celtics approved medical attention for Ray, specifically for an MRSA infection he contracted in his foot several years ago while working (hence, the boot he wore so long) in Boston’s contaminated practice facility; Paul Pierce and Delonte West also got sick.

Had Ray not been in Minnesota last summer and gone, at the urging of his girlfriend, to the Mayo Clinic, doctors told him he was within days of having his foot amputated.

Rivers told Boston reporters he had no room in back of the bench for Ray because newly hired first assistant Lawrence Frank’s deal allowed him to enlist a friend.

True enough. But the real reason Ray wasn’t invited back is because Rivers didn’t think he was healthy enough to get out on the floor and coach. Like the infection was Ray’s fault. Like Rivers didn’t know Ray was ailing for years. Like he couldn’t have reached that conclusion last June so that Ray would’ve had ample time to find work elsewhere.

Connie Hawkins also got a pink slip this summer. The Hall of Fame forward, stricken with cancer several years ago and rehabilitating at home since, was taken off the Suns’ books. Naturally, they’d love to use him occasionally for team appearances and would pay him.

Prior to becoming ill, The Almighty Hawk had been doing community work for the Suns and showed up at the office on an irregular basis. For that, I’m guessing, he might’ve pocketed 50 or 60 large.

This is what happens, I suppose, when disenchanted season ticket holders stop writing checks. As Cotton Fitzsimmons would’ve said to owner Robert Saver, “Rather than cut the pay of secretaries, or get rid of a security guard that’s been with the team forever (another Phoenix casualty), or fire a former franchise player, next time don’t offer free agent — Hakim Warrick, for instance — millions more than anyone else is prepared to give him.”

Speaking of season tickets, you’d think Wizards owner Ted Leonsis would want as many hostages as he could take to fill the Verizon Center’s crater of empty seats.

Instead, Wes Unseld was stripped of his season tickets. Apparently, the Hall of Fame center who played (MVP for the 1977-78 champions), coached and managed the team’s front office for 40 years, didn’t leave much of a lasting impression.

Far be it from me to carry such pessimism to extremes. I’ve always been an adversary of the condescending, bullying Gregg Popovich, but, evidently, I need to rethink my perspective.

Unlike the above, Popovich, whose league-leading 29-4 Spurs play the Knicks tonight at the Garden, respects the team’s history and those who were intimately involved in making it.

Not only does Stan Albeck have two passes for each home game, but the former Spurs coach has full courtside and locker room access. What’s more, Pop invited Albeck into the draft room last June and made him feel like he belonged.

Think Albeck has good things to say about Pop and the Spurs?

peter.vecsey@nypost.com