Jerry Sloan has been the coach of the Jazz since 1988. I was six years old. He has been patrolling the sideline for nearly every game I can remember. And while he is a one of the best coaches ever (that has unjustly never been awarded the Coach of the Year award), I think most people don't recognize how awesome of a player he was back in the day. Playing for ten seasons for the Chicago Bulls, Sloan averaged 14 points, 7.4 boards, 2.5 assists and 2.2 steals a game. But, in stark contrast to the rest of this site, his stats do not tell the whole story. Jerry Sloan was one tough son-of-a-bitch. Sloan was 6'5" and 185 lbs of hustle, tenacity and grit. This is a guy called Mr. Chicago Bull even after the ascendancy of Jordan.
As a player, Bulls coach Dick Motta would say kids who came to the Bulls would quickly learn the discipline required because the team’s star, Sloan, would be the first one there and the one working hardest at every practice. Walt “Clyde” Frazier, the Knicks superstar guard, always complained about Sloan getting in the way of his fancy drives. Always the Southern Illinois son of a farmer, Sloan humbly stated “I don’t have the ability of the men I guard . So I have to work twice as hard to stay on the floor with them.” As you can see I have a deep respect for the man. To give a little more insight into his toughness I have posted a few stories I found online about him that truly show why he is a certified bad-ass.
- As told by Jerry’s former teammate, Bob Love:
[W]e were playing New York in Chicago Stadium. The Knicks had Willis Reed and Earl Monroe and Walt Frazier and those guys. Willis Reed got a rebound and threw it out and was gonna beat Tom Boerwinkle down the floor. He was hauling it down the floor. He had his head down, and when he looked up, Jerry Sloan was right there, man. He ran over Sloan. Charge! Willis fell on the floor and hurt his knee. He already had a bad knee. He looked at Jerry and said, ‘Motherf—-r, don’t get in front of me again. You made me hurt my knee.’ You know how guys talk. Sloan said, ‘I ain’t afraid of you.’
“Later in the game, Willis Reed got another rebound. He hauled off down the sideline again. This time he saw Jerry. Willis didn’t go right, and he didn’t go left. He ran over Jerry. When he hit Jerry, he walked all the way up to his head and scraped him and left Converse marks, from his forehead all the way down to his ear, man. All you saw was a red mark. And there was Willis saying, ‘I told you not to get in front of me!’ Sloan said, ‘Motherf—–, I still ain’t scared of you.’
“And the rest of the game, every time Willis got a rebound, he looked. He looked for Jerry. Jerry would have guys zigzagging down the floor, because you couldn’t touch him. He was the greatest charge-taker that I have ever seen in my life. … Right now he would be considered the all-time greatest defensive player the game has ever known if he was playing on TV. He would have every kid in America copying that style.” ["Stockton to Malone The Rise of the Utah Jazz" by Roland Lazenby*]
- As recounted by Chris Webber:
I said, 'You want some?' He was like, 'Damn right I want some.'
He started walking toward me. So, you know, it's a good thing there was a ref there because, hey, he's one of the toughest guys in the league. I don't want to fight that guy. So, I'll tell you, when your team is led by one of the toughest guys in the league, your team is going to be tough."
- During Jerry’s fourth year in Chicago, the Bulls were fighting to keep their season alive and had to win four out of five games in five nights to make the Playoffs. They won their first three games, but Jerry broke two ribs and separated his sternum when Lew Alcindor [i.e. Kareem Abdul-Jabbar] knocked him down with just seconds to go in the third game.
“[The doctor that met the team at the airport that night] told us that Sloan shouldn’t go, that he should stay home. But Jerry insisted on going just to be with the team. We just needed one more win. The next day I went to the arena, and Sloan was there. He said, ‘I couldn’t sleep. I’ve been walking around. I’ve found this little corset thing. Let me warm up.’
“I said, ‘No, I’m not gonna let you,’” Motta recalled. “He said, ‘Coach, you gotta let me warm up.’ So he warmed up … Later…he came up to me and said, ‘You know I’ve never asked you to do one thing. I’ve never told you to do one thing. I’m gonna ask one favor now.’
“I said, ‘What’s that, Jerry?’
“He said, ‘If I were you, I’d start me.’
“I started him,” Motta
“I looked up at the clock and said, ‘Jerry, what’s wrong?’
“He said, ‘Oh, I thought we were down 33.’
“The pain was so excruciating that he was incoherent,” Motta said. “He was going on an empty tank. We won the game in overtime, and made the playoffs. I was able to rest Jerry the last game, and he played in the playoffs.”
(“Stockton to Malone: The Rise of the Utah Jazz” by Roland Lazenby)
Damn.
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