Doc Rivers was 171-168 as head coach of the Magic. Tom Pidgeon/Getty Images

I got to know Doc Rivers well in 1988, when I covered the Atlanta Hawks on a memorable summer trip to the Soviet Union. The excursion, during which the Hawks played three games against various versions of Soviet national teams, was a classic Ted Turner brainchild -- part goodwill, part pragmatic move (help the Hawks sign the best Soviet players; make the Hawks America's Team, etc.). Doc was then in the prime of a 13-year career, having come off a season in which he averaged 14.2 points, 9.3 assists, 4.6 rebounds and 1.8 steals. It may be hard for young readers to believe, but the Hawks were actually a basketball team back then. They had extended the Boston Celtics (see, boys and girls, they were really good then, too) to seven games in the Eastern Conference semis -- Larry Bird's Boston Garden shootout with the Hawks' Dominique Wilkins is one of the most memorable games in NBA playoff history -- and Rivers was right in the middle of it.

The Soviet Union trip was one of those so-bad-it-was-good experiences with bad food, bad accommodations and bad travel arrangements, and one of the major reasons everyone came out of it with a good feeling was Rivers. Instead of moping, he (and his wife, Kris, to whom he's still married) kept everybody upbeat. Instead of looking at the dark side, Rivers always found the humor in a situation. I remember thinking then what an outstanding coach he would make one day. He was smart, tough and resilient, and, sure enough, three years after his retirement in 1996 he was named head coach of the Orlando Magic. The move, as you recall, sent George Karl (among others) into a tizzy. Their thought was that Rivers had not paid substantial dues to earn an X's and O's job -- as if donating your body and your blood for 15 NBA seasons the way defensive specialist Rivers did was not dues enough.

Anyway, four seasons later -- well, four and one-tenth of a season of a season later -- Rivers is gone, the victim of a team on a 10-game losing streak with a disenchanted superstar. Indeed, at the moment, Tracy McGrady is a basket case (not in a good basketball way) and his team is among the worst in the league, starting Tyronn Lue at point guard and Juwan Howard at center. Neither is a bad guy or a bad player, but neither is a full-time answer, either.

It is beyond obvious to observe that the coach is always the first to go in these situations ... but the coach is always the first to go in these situations. That's just the way it is and there's no need for breast-beating. My own rule of thumb is that if a team has not won a championship or does not appear to be close to winning a championship within four or five years of a certain coach's tenure, then that coach will be fired. The exceptions are the bulletproof, marquee guys such as Pat Riley at Miami (he had eight non-title years before hanging it up himself just prior to the start of this season) or maybe a long-termer or two, such as Jerry Sloan in Utah. Rivers had his share of bad breaks (Grant Hill's recurring ankle injury being the main one) and mediocre draft picks (Ryan Humphrey, Steven Hunter, Jeryl Sasser -- it's too early to rate '03 pick Reece Gaines, a non-contributor so far), but it was clearly time for change in Orlando. What, you think the Magic were going to trade T-Mac?

It is simplistic to postulate that McGrady got Rivers fired. But their disharmony was a major factor in the coach's departure. They didn't hate each other, but they clashed. Rivers is old school, a guy who played the game with the ferocity of a blocking back -- not always elegant, but always intense. McGrady is wonderfully talented, able to take over any game at any point, but sometimes he looks as if he's coasting. Rivers constantly challenged the three-time All Star to extend himself, particularly on defense, and McGrady sometimes took umbrage at the suggestion. You could make a case for either of their head-knocking positions.

Rivers: Look at your talents. Look at your body, 6-foot-8, sleek as a limo. Look at what you could be doing. You should be dominating the league, offensively and defensively, like Jordan used to do.

McGrady: Night after night, the load is on me. I'm sorry about Grant, but you haven't given me a good supporting cast. I averaged more than 30 points per game in each of our last three playoff series. What more do you want?

Rivers will coach again. As I've said in the past, I hate to play the coaching-carousel game because it's not fair to the guys who have jobs. But he will be back. In fact, right now McGrady and the Magic are in a lot worse straits than Rivers. Ever since his unfortunate comment that he was discombobulated by zone defenses, opponents have zeroed in on McGrady, and, as a result, last year's scoring champ is shooting a career low .430 percent from the floor. As for his own defense, McGrady had (through Tuesday) only 11 steals, just one more than Lue and the same number as small forward Drew Gooden. By comparison, New Orleans' Baron Davis and Philadelphia's Allen Iverson have 37, New Jersey's Kerry Kittles has 30 and Detroit's Ben Wallace (a center) has 25. This is not to suggest that steals are the best measure of a player's defensive abilities, but someone with McGrady's quickness, wing span and instincts should have more, especially if he's expending maximum effort.

Losing streak aside, these are not good times for the Magic. One of the most overlooked, and saddest, transactions of the past season was the disappearance of Julius Erving from the Orlando masthead. Beset by personal problems (the revelation that he fathered a second child out of wedlock and a divorce, among others), Erving is no longer the Magic's senior vice president. Rivers, the feisty face of the Orlando organization, is gone. He'll be back, but good luck to Rivers' replacement, Johnny Davis. He'll need it.

Sports Illustrated senior writer Jack McCallum covers the NBA for the magazine and is a regular contributor to SI.com.