He Starts With an Exclamation Point

A funny little fear began bugging Randy Pfund on the morning of his first actual game as an NBA coach. “What if we don’t score?” a voice inside his head kept asking. Even on his way to the arena, the voice wouldn’t shut up. “God, what if we don’t score a point?”

The humiliation.

The horror.

The headlines: LAKER COACH’S DEBUT IS POINTLESS. Or: CLIPPERS STUN LAKERS, 112-0. Or maybe even: PFUND PFIRED AFTER PFIRST NIGHT.

He tried to stay cool. Pfund wondered what Pat Riley or Mike Dunleavy did to relax on their first nights. They, too, made their head-coaching debuts with the Lakers. They, too, had to start somewhere.

“You know, somebody recently asked me my goal,” Pfund said. “You know what it is? I just don’t want to be a one-or-two-year coach. I’d like to stick around for a few seasons, coach a few big games.”

He got dressed. One thing Laker coaches could always do is get dressed. Pfund picked out an elegant suit from his Santa Monica closet. OK, so maybe Riles and Dunleavy might turn out to be better suited to be NBA coaches, but darned if the Forum’s new coach was going to come to work wearing some toga. Pfund had some sideline-chic of his own. He knotted his necktie and adjusted his collar tabs over the knot, like Joe Pesci’s in “Goodfellas.” What the heck. It’s a look.

He looked at film. Made preparations. Did the same things he had done since 1985, when the Lakers spirited him away from a little college called Westmont. Did the same things he had done back when he was coaching high school ball outside Chicago, the same things his father had done while coaching Randy at a little college named Wheaton.

Wheaton. Pfund suddenly thought of his old college roommate, Dennis Hamill. Wondered what he was up to today. Thought about giving him a call in Philadelphia, christen the launch of his new coaching career together.

No, too much to do before tipoff. Maybe after the game.

He got to the Sports Arena. Looked around. “Little different picture when you’re a head coach,” he said. “On one hand, it feels very natural. I’ve been around the game and I’ve been around this team. On the other hand, well, hey--now it’s your team.

“The first time it really registered was our first exhibition game at the Forum. Walking into that place now is as normal to me as walking into my living room. But that night, walking into the Forum gave me a little chill. I kept looking around for Mike and Riles, saying: ‘Hmmm. Something’s not right.’ Same thing happened tonight. It’s not that you’re nervous. It’s just that little chill you get that reminds you of, you know, where it is you are and what it is you do.”

The Clippers were waiting. So was Larry Brown, who has been around. Brown, 52, was a dozen seasons older than Pfund, but, more to the point, had already coached the New Jersey Nets, Denver Nuggets, San Antonio Spurs, coached big-time college ball at UCLA and Kansas, had seen a lot and done a lot.

Pfund got to the Laker locker room.

“Think Larry’s setting any traps for me?” he asked.

A player or two shrugged.

“He might want to find out right away just how dumb this new coach is,” Pfund said, laughing.

The game began. Tip to the Clippers. Steal by Sedale Threatt. Pass to James Worthy. Jumper from 14 feet. Whoosh, two points. Time expired: 25 seconds. The Los Angeles Lakers, under Randy Pfund, would, by God, not go scoreless.

“That was a relief,” Pfund said. “No, really. Get that first one out of the way. I pictured us throwing the ball into the stands for four or five minutes, just so everybody in the stands could stare down at the coach say: ‘Wow, where’d they get this guy, anyway?’ Then James scores and suddenly it was business as usual. I think we had a 32-point first quarter. (Actually, 34.) If we can ring up 32 points every first quarter, I think I’ll be coaching a long time.”

The game proceeded apace. Vlade Divac looked frisky. Byron Scott’s aim was true. All five starters scored in double figures. The new kids, Anthony Peeler and Duane Cooper, made all their shots. Nobody tanked for the new coach.

But the Clippers would not make Pfund’s first night a no-brainer. They struggled and scrapped. The big Clippers, Stanley Roberts and John Williams, did their patented Spam dunks. The little Clippers, Ron Harper and Mark Jackson, played 90 hustling minutes between them. The golden-oldie Clipper, Kiki Vandeweghe, scored more baskets than every teammate but Danny Manning and Harper.

And the Lakers took it in overtime, 114-112, leaving Coach Randy Pfund, well, hey, who can deny it, unbeaten.

The necktie clung to a sweat-soaked starched white shirt. “Whew, I worked,” he said. “First night on the job, and already they’ve got me putting in overtime.”

Pfund looked up, saw a smiling face a few feet away. It was his college roommate, Hamill, come a couple thousand miles to see him coach.

“What are you doing here?” Pfund called over.

“What are you? “ his friend replied, a really nice ending to a really nice night.