Follow this advice to letter
Donald T. Sterling
Sterling World Plaza
Beverly Hills, Calif., 90210
Dear Donald,
I came as soon as I could!
I know times are tough. Of course, when weren’t they?
Of course, I mean you as owner of the Clippers. Aside from that, I can only wish I did as well as you.
However the current economic crisis affects commercial real estate, I know exactly what you’ll do -- the same thing you’ve always done when prices fell and people started selling everything:
Nothing.
Aside from knowing what to buy -- I once saw you select among prospective properties like a connoisseur poring over the menu in a five-star restaurant -- you knew that whatever went down in California real estate would go back up and you were strong enough to be there on that day.
It’s your first principle: You never sold a property, not even your butt-of-late-night-comedians basketball team, on which you could have turned a tidy $300-million profit.
I know how concerned you are about your team. You told me the other day, throwing out old lines like, “I’ve been a success at everything else,” and “I love our coach.”
My favorite was another golden oldie: “What do you think the problem is?”
“Well,” I noted, “I have some thoughts about that. I’ve been publishing them several times a season for almost 20 years.”
I love our talks. It’s like being in a play you’ve done so many times, you not only know your lines but everyone else’s.
Of course, the real problem about your lament is that it was before your opener, when you hadn’t lost a game!
After your team opened the season 0-6, I just hope you aren’t curled up in a ball or making out a hit list.
I know you’ve gotten invaluable advice from friends, valets parking your car, waiters, butchers, bakers, candlestick makers, Joe the Plumber, et al.
By now, you must be confused, or what else is new?
This is why you have professionals to handle things, at least in theory.
You have professionals, all right. It just took a little time -- 20 years actually -- to grasp that principle that they were supposed to handle things.
When you finally did it, it was in your inimitable style, handing the basketball operation to your coach, Mike Dunleavy -- unofficially.
Elgin Baylor remained titular GM, leading to the usual front office strains -- but making it possible for Elg to be executive of the year in 2005, which he deserved after all those years of the Mushroom Treatment (kept in the cellar with fertilizer thrown on him).
Of course, when things got bad last season, you put Dunleavy in the cellar too.
Now, this is an important point:
Mike still has three years left on his contract, at $5.4 million each.
You should remember, you signed him to it. It may have slipped your mind last season when you confided your doubts to our T.J. Simers, who shared them with a million or so readers (“I don’t think you’re ever in love with your coach. Do you think anybody loves their coach? They’re just a necessity.”)
Unless you’re any more prepared now to fire Dunleavy than you were then, there’s only one thing to do:
Nothing.
You can’t even mew to me or T.J. Last season’s episode cost “the necessity” enough cachet, and players are like grade-school kids with a substitute teacher when they sense vulnerability.
In case your friends and neighbors can’t agree on what’s wrong, here’s how I see it.
Your projected starters have actually been OK. Unfortunately, they have been sighted together about as often as Bigfoot.
In the first five games, Baron Davis and Marcus Camby were on the floor together for a total of 25:48, in which your opponents outscored you by 10 points.
The opponents were the unbeaten Lakers and Jazz and a lot of those minutes were late in the games when Davis and Camby were running on empty.
When Baron and Marcus weren’t out there together, your team was outscored by 114.
Now that we know your best lineup, you’ll have to wait to see what happens if it can stay together and get in shape.
There is something you can do in the meantime: Figure out a happy ending for Elgin (that’s spelled s-e-v-e-r-a-n-c-e p-a-c-k-a-g-e) and hold a night for him.
After all these years, it would be nice if one Clipper’s days ended gracefully. Your general manager of 22 years whose jersey is on the Staples Center wall would be a good candidate.
To date I know of only one person who has been in position to see the spectacle at close hand without getting sucked into the black hole.
That would be . . .
Yours forever,
Mark Heisler
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