Ding Dong, the Smitch is Dead!

Words cannot describe the elation I felt when a friend (who, I assume, received advanced notice through his employment at a sports broadcaster) texted me THIS FANTASTIC NEWS!

For YEARS (since almost the moment he was hired… I tried as best as I could to give him some lenience to learn the occupation early on) I have been shitting on Smitchell’s coaching decisions (substitutions, play calls, time outs, end of game situations, defensive match ups, player growth, and general style of play) and was aghast and disgusted by the league when he managed to, despite having a mediocre underperforming team in a weak conference and having shown no actual evidence coaching ability, win the NBA’s Coach of the Year award at the end of the 2006-2007 season (more deserving recipients such as Jeff Van Gundy and the always considered but never rewarded Jerry Sloan should be slightly more outraged than I).  Key quote from that CBC article:

“The award is especially sweet for Mitchell, as he was voted the worst coach in the NBA last year in an unofficial poll of players by Sports Illustrated.”

Well, then.  What’s most frustrating about the award, perhaps, is that Mitchell’s contract was ending and there was a decent chance, in my mind, that Brian Colangelo would have the good sense to not renew his contract or replace him after another year.  Sadly, even an apparently bright GM such as Colangelo cannot discard a COTY.

As a Toronto native and longtime basketball aficianado/Raptors viewer (though not exactly a Raptors fan), I have endured Sam Mitchell like an untrainable mutt.  Every other day, he poops the rug and out of love for dogs, I convince myself that it’s the last time.  Within 48 hours, I’m donning my rubber gloves and carpet sanitizer.

But enough about me.  Let’s properly eulogize the Toronto Raptor’s dearly departed head coach.

I remember one game in particular that I’m sure others may remember for different reasons (the number ‘81′ conjure up any memories?).  A certain Electric Mamba was running roughshod over the overmatched Toronto Raptors as he is one to do.  Mamba had accumulated something like 37 pts in the 3rd quarter and had bricked two or three straight shots, looking suddenly very un-Mamba and rather cold.  In what I assume must be Smitchell’s doing, Jose Calderon is suddenly tasked with guarding dwindling Mamba.  I assume it is Smitch’s doing as this occurs over 3 straight possessions or so, and Jose meets Mamba somewhere near halfcourt (unlikely to be the result of a switch).

Being one of the league’s most notoriously poor defenders, and not that strong of a ball handler, Spanish, and not even the right position or size for the job, Jose promptly allows Mamba to score three buckets (two dunks off steals and a trey, as I recall) and suddenly Mamba is electric again.

A timeout quickly follows, which much commotion and histrionics, and Mamba goes the rest of the 20 game minutes to score another 35 pts or so.

That is the Smitchell that I will always remember.  And though we may now have a chance (it’d be better if we replaced Jay Triano with a stronger coach, but there’s no downgrading from Smitch) to make it to the second round of the playoffs (we only have the 4th or 5th most talented roster in the East…), I believe the city of Toronto is better off for having known our dear friend, and beloved coach, Sam “Smitch” Mitchell.  He may not be missed, but he will never be forgotten.

We have now had our big baby superstar (Vince Carter) who started faking injury and quit playing defence (can you quit if you never started?) and then whined his way out of the city.  And we now have had the coach who did nothing, failed in every facet of game day coaching (I cannot judge his between-game impact), and who rid the crest of a #1 overall pick, a GM overhaul and spending spree, and the development of a legitimate star (Chris Bosh) to a COTY and suffocated the team with his incompetence for another year and some.  Let us never forget and let us hope the City of Toronto is never fooled again into supporting those who deserve nothing but our ire (VC) or disdain (SM).

For a more appropriate commemoration of this event, please see the official site for this event.

And please share your own Smitchocities in the comments.  I think I might actually be able to laugh at them now that it’s all over.

… and the cow goes moo