Taking Wing

It was just like old times. Larry Bird's team needed him to make a clutch shot. The Indiana Pacers have a tradition of holding a shooting contest from half-court before practice every season when they visit San Antonio, so when the Pacers arrived to play the Spurs last month, each of the Indiana players, coaches and trainers dropped the customary $20 into the pot and began taking turns heaving shots. When forward Derrick McKey became the first to sink one, the pressure kicked in. If no one else made a basket, McKey would walk away with the cash, but if someone canned a shot, the game would begin again.

After everyone else had missed, Bird, the Pacers' rookie coach, was the final shooter. You may recall that he was asked to take an important shot or two during his playing days with the Boston Celtics and that he had more than middling success. The money he made in competitions such as this one probably paid for the house in Naples, Fla., where he spent much of his time after he retired as a player in 1992 and before he signed on with Indiana last spring. "You don't want me to get in," he had told the Pacers players. "Because if I do, I'll win, and it'll tick you guys off so much you won't practice hard." But he relented, and now, with several hundred dollars on the line and everyone but McKey cheering him on, Bird took a couple of dribbles, released the shot and....

"Missed everything," says center Rik Smits, laughing. "I mean, he missed bad. It was terrible, not even close."

It would be natural to guess that Bird was trying to impart some kind of message to his players with that miss. Maybe he was attempting to erase the image of Larry Legend from their minds and make sure they saw him as Coach Bird. Or perhaps it was his way of telling them that he was no miracle worker, that his mere presence would not transform them back into title contenders after their lifeless 39-43 performance last season under Larry Brown. Reasonable conclusions, but just as off-target as the shot. If Bird wanted to say those things, he would have said them, because one thing that's already evident about Bird the coach is that symbolism isn't his style. "He keeps things simple and direct," says point guard Mark Jackson. "You never have to wonder if there's some hidden meaning. People like playing for him, and that's one of the reasons this team is playing the way it's playing."

Which happens to be about as well as any team in the NBA. If the Pacers continue at this, well, pace, Bird will have to clear a space in his crowded trophy case for a Coach of the Year award. After a 2-5 start, Indiana won 19 of its next 24 games, and with a 21-10 record at week's end the Pacers were just a half game behind the first-place Chicago Bulls in the Central Division. With the New York Knicks' Patrick Ewing gone for the season with a lunate dislocation and torn ligaments of the right wrist, and the Bulls appearing to hold psychological mastery over the Miami Heat, the Pacers could emerge as the strongest challenger to Chicago in the East, but do them a favor and keep that to yourself. They would like to continue to improve just as they have so far—unobtrusively. "We don't want any headlines," says Jackson. "We want to sneak up on people, hit 'em over the back of the head and stuff 'em in the trunk."

It's hard to keep a low profile with Bird as the coach, but he's not the only reason Indiana has played well. The Pacers have been relatively injury-free: They had the same starting lineup for their first 29 games this season, a streak that was broken when forward Dale Davis missed their 99-81 win over the Washington Wizards (the first time the Wizards had been beaten in their nine games at the new MCI Center) last Friday with a sprained left ankle. Furthermore, the Indiana bench, particularly point guard Travis Best, forward Antonio Davis and swingman Jalen Rose, has been far more effective than it was a year ago. "That's a solid team they've got over there," Washington coach Bernie Bickerstaff said after watching the Pacers dismantle his Wizards with the kind of crisp, rapid ball movement that Bird's Celtics used to feature. "They're experienced, and they're well-coached. What they're doing is no fluke."

Bird has a team that must remind him of himself: The Pacers are more likely to dazzle you with a pass than a dunk; they have minds that are quicker than their feet; they are tough; and at least in the cases of Smits, guard Reggie Miller and forward Chris Mullin, they're outstanding shooters. Bird inherited a team that was experienced and intelligent but one that after four seasons under Brown had gone stale. "I thought it would be a good situation for me, and it's turned out to be exactly that," Bird says. "I think I brought some leadership and maybe got them in a little better condition, but other than that, the players have been the ones responsible for what we've done."

One of the reasons Indiana has risen so quietly is also one of the signs that the Pacers might be able to sustain their early success: None of their players are having career years. Miller, Indiana's best player, is putting together another All-Star-caliber season, averaging 19.9 points at week's end, but because Bird has doled out a lot of playing time to reserves, Miller has only played about 34 minutes per game. Jackson, with his 8.5 assists per game (sixth in the NBA), is the lone Pacers player in the top 10 in scoring, rebounding, assists, blocked shots or steals. At week's end, Miller, Mullin and Smits were the only Indiana players averaging more than 10 points per game, but 10 Pacers had averaged more than 15 minutes per game. "I figure we've got 12 players getting a paycheck," says Bird. "We might as well get our money's worth."

That's typical Bird, the commonsense coach. He hired only two assistants, former Celtics teammate Rick Carlisle, who has "future head coach" written all over him, and 67-year-old Dick Harter, who has had five head coaching jobs in college and the NBA. "There's not enough work for four or five guys," Bird says. "I don't know what other coaches do with all those assistants. I think the communication is clearer if you have only two or three voices."

He seems intent on becoming the kind of coach he would have wanted to play for. For instance, he hated long sessions of tape-watching when he was a player, so Indiana's sessions rarely last more than 10 minutes. "He'll have the tape edited so that everything is right on point," says Pacers president Donnie Walsh. "He doesn't waste his players' time. That seems to be one of his guiding principles." That principle extends to the way Bird runs practices. "Everything moves," says Smits. "We don't spend a lot of time standing around listening to lectures. Coach Brown was a good teacher, but there were times when you'd work up a sweat and then stand around listening to him talk for so long, you would cool off and get stiff. Coach Bird doesn't let that happen."