Here we go again

So here we go again. Off into the annual rite of the spring and summer where the Philadelphia 76ers attempt to find a new coach. By this point we’re all used to how it works since the team has had seven coaches — seven! — in the past eight years.

Larry Brown turned in six seasons, which, excluding Billy Cunningham’s seven-year run, is the longest tenure since the team moved to Philadelphia from Syracuse. Since then the Sixers have averaged a coach a year, had two seasons in which they had two coaches and two other one-and-done tenures after Eddie Jordan’s quick departure.

In fact, hang around the Wachovia Center on game day and you can see a whole bunch of former head coaches for the Sixers working for the team in one capacity or another. Hell, two of them (Jim Lynam and Randy Ayers) served as assistant coaches, while Tony DiLeo (senior vice president and assistant general manager) and Chris Ford (scout) aren’t too tough to find at a ballgame.

Regardless, if a team has eight coaches in eight years, chances are those guys aren’t the real problem. Maybe the guys selecting the players and the coaches have been victims of bad luck, advice or basketball theories. Either way, Philadelphia is a good place for a coach to start and end a career in a relatively short time.

Aside from that, it’s strange that anyone would want the job after what has occurred since Brown left. Certainly there will be a bunch of guys climbing over each other to get the gig simply because there aren’t too many NBA head coaching jobs out there, but really… what a mess. Baring some sort of miraculous infusion of talent/injection into the current players on the roster, or maybe the free-agent signing (for cheap) of the guy from the movie, Flubber, the Sixers aren’t going to be very good next year, either.

But if there is an interesting caveat, it’s this: Samuel Dalembert will play for his eighth coach. If Dalembert plays for the 76ers next season, it will be nine seasons in the NBA with eight different coaches all for just one team.

How does that happen?

“I tell my friends around the league about it and they laugh at me,” Dalembert told reporters on Thursday.

Then again it could come full circle for Dalembert. Though the Sixers deny all the chatter and rumors, there is a report out there that Brown has been given permission by his boss in Charlotte, Michael Jordan, to talk to the Sixers about running things. Really though, is Larry Brown the answer?

Sure, the Sixers have had just one season above .500 since Brown left, but unless he has cap room and/or a trade partner to take some big contracts off his hands, the team is in a perfect spot to get young and grow. And as we know, youthful, inexperienced ballplayers suffer through a lot of growing pains. Knowing Brown’s track record with young players and for not sticking around in one place for too long, there are better choices.

In other words, a young, up-and-coming coach who is given enough time and patience to push the team in the proverbial right direction is the way to go. Forget about recycling a familiar name, or getting into the cronyism that helped Jordan land the job in the first place—the Sixers really need to think unconventionally.

And then they need to step back and give the guy a chance.

Why not call up Brad Stevens, the 33-year-old coach who took Butler to the NCAA Championship a couple of weeks ago? He probably won’t take the gig, but at least it shows original thought for a change.

Yeah, we could go on and on with names of young and promising coaches in basketball, but it won’t do anything to change the fact that the NBA may as well be a European soccer league the way Philadelphians care about it. Just think about all the kids growing up following every team but the one in their home town.

Seven coaches in eight years makes it tough for anyone to climb on board.

Haiti and Sam Dalembert, Part II

An hour before tip-off, Sam Dalembert did not look like he was ready to play a basketball game. Understandably drained and confused by what had occurred in his birth country a little more than 24-hours before, Dalembert eyes gave answers to questions that his mind could not.

Was his aunt OK, despite the news that her house had been “cracked” by the earthquake that registered 7.0 on the Richter Scale a little before 5 p.m. in Port-au-Prince, Haiti on Tuesday? Or, when would the next message from Dalembert’s father arrive? Just before the tiny Carribean island lost power, the elder Dalembert sent an e-mail signifying they were, “OK.”

“OK” is a relative term, of course. Even in the most technologically advanced country, an earthquake the magnitude of the one that devastated Haiti on Tuesday would leave its mark. Put that earthquake in the poorest country on this side of the globe that was still reeling from being battered by four hurricanes since September of 2008, and it sounds so cruel.

It isn’t enough that the average Haitian lives on less than $2 a day and had been governed by infamous dictatorships for decades, now the people on the poor island are waiting for the aid to arrive while gathering the dead amidst total destruction.

They are poor, Dalembert says, but proud.

"A huge part of me will always love the country, love the people in it. We're strong people, we deal with stuff. No matter what's going on, we always find a way to stay happy. We joke about situations when most people wouldn't make a joke," he said. "That's why people say, 'Why is Sam always smiling?' When you come from where I come from and where you are right now, every day is a blessing. I don't have to deal with finding food. I don't have to deal with looking in my freezer and not finding food."

Dalembert’s birth city Port-au-Prince, so close to the epicenter of the quake, is a city larger than Philadelphia yet currently has no operational hospital. Actually, it had nothing before the earthquake hit, but now it has death and destruction without hyperbole. Haiti, as it was, is gone.

Moreover, Dalembert’s father was in Port-au-Prince with members of his family on a business trip when the earthquake hit. Before Wednesday’s game against the Knicks, Dalembert said his dad sent a message via an e-mail from his aunt with the news of his whereabouts. 

But that was more than a day ago and no word has trickled out since.

“Yesterday I turned the TV on and just kept on watching and watching and just waiting for an answer in front of the phone. I contacted everybody I know there, but no answer,” Dalembert said before Wednesday’s game. “I wasn’t able to get as much information as I wanted to. It’s really frustrating. All I’ve got is watching the screen. I’m here and there’s nothing I can do. It’s really killing me right now.”

How does anyone attempt to understand the unfathomable? Better yet, how does a guy show up for work with so much uncertainty in his life? If Dalembert decided to check out and coast through the New York Knicks, who would have blamed him?

“Hopefully, for two hours he can escape,” Sixers’ coach Eddie Jordan said before the 93-92 defeat.

“I could tell that today was a different day for him because he wasn’t the same old Sam,” Allen Iverson said. “When I saw it on the news last night the first thing I did was call him, and you could tell in his voice he was struggling with the situation.”

There were two ways Dalembert could have gone against the Knicks… he could have disappeared, or he could have lit it up.

Dalembert lit it up with a season-high 21 rebounds to go with 12 points on 6-for-8 shooting.

“He showed what type of a professional he is—he came out here and did everything he had to do for us on the basketball court to give us a chance to win, and that shows a lot of character on his part,” Iverson said.

It turned out that playing basketball was the easy part. It became a type of therapy since there was no one for Dalmebert to call and the only way he can do to help is send money. In fact, the Sixers revealed after the game that in addition to pulling down all those rebounds, Dalembert was organizing a benefit to raise funds for more aid for Haiti.

For now though, all he can do is wait and hope that maybe he’ll hear something soon.

“It’s tough, frustrating,” Dalembert said. “It’s crazy, out of your mind. It’s like you’re locked in a cage. You cannot move. You cannot do anything. I tried to go over there, but they said there’s no plane going there. Nobody can go there.

“There’s really nothing I can do except play, then send money and help out.”

Imagine not being able to talk to your family. Or imagine not knowing whether your closest friend, father, aunt, brother or sister are alive or dead.

Imagine having all of that weighing you down into an emotional abyss as if it where an anchor on the Titanic...

All before you go and pull down 21 rebounds.

To help Sam Dalembert send relief aid to Haiti, go to the UNICEF site.