Last Sunday the Philadelphia Phillies lost their 10,000th game, an infamous feat that can be only partially mitigated by the sheer longevity of the franchise. Later rather than sooner, this same milestone will be reached by several other long-established teams like the New York Yankees, Boston Red Sox, St. Louis Cardinals and both Chicago ball clubs.
But there's one negative record held by another Philadelphia entry in a major league sport that will never be matched. The puny total of nine wins mustered by the 1972-73 Philadelphia 76ers.
The one man most responsible for that abominable season was Don DeJardin, the general manager. It was DeJardin who hired Roy Rubin, an enormously successful high school coach (at Columbus HS) and moderately successful college coach (at LIU) in New York City.
According to Fred Carter, the team's best player, "DeJardin was a West Pointer and a control freak. He hired Rubin because he knew that Rubin would be easy for him to control."
It certainly didn't take long for Rubin to lose the respect of his players. Dale Schlueter, a 6-10, 235-pound center, describes what happened the first time Rubin faced the team and laid down the rules at the start of training camp: "He presented himself as a strict disciplinarian and said he'd accept no excuses for any infractions. We'd have a strict dress code for road trips. No exceptions. There'd be no beer in the locker room. No exceptions. There'd be no smoking in the locker room. No exceptions.
"Then Freddie Carter raised his hand and said, 'But Coach, I've been smoking in the locker room ever since I've been in the league. That's the only way I can calm down and get ready to play.' Rubin didn't even blink. ‘Okay,' he said. ‘You can smoke, Freddie, but you're the only one.' In a flash, the rest of us realized that Rubin didn't have a clue."
Rubin's first tactical blunder also occurred in training camp when he cut Steve Mix (who went on to become a solid NBA player) and kept Luther Green (who had played for Rubin at LIU). The players believed that Green was Rubin's spy, and when he misfired on his first (and only) 11 shots, they forced Rubin to cut him.
Carter called Rubin and his assistant, Paul Lizzo, "the Laurel and Hardy of NBA coaching. In training camp, they didn't even know the pro rules."
DeJardin compounded his own mistakes when he traded the hard-nosed Bill Bridges to the Lakers for chronically underachieving John Q. Trapp and LeRoy Ellis, perhaps the league's gentlest big man. DeJardin also refused Rubin's request to make a deal for the fiery Pat Riley.
Instead, Rubin was left with Manny Leaks, a 6-8 center; Kevin Loughery, an elderly player with a bum knee; Bob Rule, who hadn't fully recovered from a broken leg; a trio of third-string centers — Schlueter, John Block and Dennis Awtrey; a washed-up future Hall of Famer, Hal Greer; and a bunch of also-rans and never-to-be's. But when the 76ers went 4-4 during the exhibition season, Rubin was ecstatic and expected great things.
Philly opened in Chicago against a tough squad that featured Bob Love, Chet Walker, Jerry Sloan and Norm Van Lier. The game was fiercely contested with the Bulls gaining a four-point win.
Next up were the Braves at Buffalo, whose star players were Bob McAdoo and Randy Smith. Another ferocious ball game ensued, with the home-town Braves coming away with a two-point victory.
With those two difficult defeats, the Sixers seemed to have lost heart. It didn't help that during time-outs in clutch situations Rubin confined his comments to asking for suggestions. Nor that his half-time routine was limited to saying, "You're doing good. Keep up the good work." Rubin would ask the trainer how much time was left before the game was scheduled to resume, and then walk out of the locker room.
In any event, the Sixers lost their initial 16 games, and their season was kaput. If wins were rare and miraculous, one of their perpetual losses was especially painful.
In mid-season, they were beating the Celtics by 12 at the start of the final quarter and seemed to have the game in hand. But by that time, opponents already understood that the Sixers were destined to become one of the worst teams in NBA history. Fearing the humiliation of losing to them, opponents usually played harder against the Sixers than they did against run-of-the-mill ball clubs. So it was that Dave Cowens couldn't bear the possibility of being bested by such a sad-sack team and he simply went berserk in the fourth quarter — single-handedly rescuing the game for the Celts.
Before he was canned, Rubin's record was 4-47, but one of those wins was tainted: It's now part of NBA mythology that the Sonics' players so detested Tom Nissalke, their martinet of a coach, that they deliberately played less than their best in hopes that he'd be fired. The game came down to the wire, but the Sixers' cause was hindered when Rubin insisted on calling timeouts that worked to the benefit of Seattle. As Rubin signaled for each stoppage, there was Loughery, jumping off the bench, holding his head in his hands and screaming, "No, no, no!"
Somehow, the Sixers prevailed. And shortly thereafter Nissalke was indeed fired. Rubin did have some reasonable excuses for his inept performance. Billy Cunningham had jumped to the Carolina Cougars of the ABA the day before Rubin signed on. Rubin's contract was for three years, and his plan was to play the youngsters — like Freddie Boyd and Dave Sorenson — to build a new nucleus. Fred Carter was a nervous-type who was too antsy to run an offense. The media was on his case from Day One because he wasn't a local guy.
Also, before the season was underway, Eddie Gottlieb (revered as Mr. Philadelphia Basketball) told Rubin that he'd be a miracle worker if the Sixers won more than 10 games.
Rubin's replacement was Kevin Loughery, who went 5-26, making an overall mark of 9-73. For the following season, Loughery was succeeded by Gene Shue, and within three years, the Sixers were back in the playoffs.
Someday the Sixers may lose their 10,000th game, and other teams with similarly long histories will inevitably follow. But the Sixers' disastrous 9-win season will never be matched.
None of these accumulated disasters, however, will provide any solace to rabid Philly sports fans. But that's what they get for booing Santa Claus.
But there's one negative record held by another Philadelphia entry in a major league sport that will never be matched. The puny total of nine wins mustered by the 1972-73 Philadelphia 76ers.
The one man most responsible for that abominable season was Don DeJardin, the general manager. It was DeJardin who hired Roy Rubin, an enormously successful high school coach (at Columbus HS) and moderately successful college coach (at LIU) in New York City.
According to Fred Carter, the team's best player, "DeJardin was a West Pointer and a control freak. He hired Rubin because he knew that Rubin would be easy for him to control."
It certainly didn't take long for Rubin to lose the respect of his players. Dale Schlueter, a 6-10, 235-pound center, describes what happened the first time Rubin faced the team and laid down the rules at the start of training camp: "He presented himself as a strict disciplinarian and said he'd accept no excuses for any infractions. We'd have a strict dress code for road trips. No exceptions. There'd be no beer in the locker room. No exceptions. There'd be no smoking in the locker room. No exceptions.
"Then Freddie Carter raised his hand and said, 'But Coach, I've been smoking in the locker room ever since I've been in the league. That's the only way I can calm down and get ready to play.' Rubin didn't even blink. ‘Okay,' he said. ‘You can smoke, Freddie, but you're the only one.' In a flash, the rest of us realized that Rubin didn't have a clue."
Rubin's first tactical blunder also occurred in training camp when he cut Steve Mix (who went on to become a solid NBA player) and kept Luther Green (who had played for Rubin at LIU). The players believed that Green was Rubin's spy, and when he misfired on his first (and only) 11 shots, they forced Rubin to cut him.
Carter called Rubin and his assistant, Paul Lizzo, "the Laurel and Hardy of NBA coaching. In training camp, they didn't even know the pro rules."
DeJardin compounded his own mistakes when he traded the hard-nosed Bill Bridges to the Lakers for chronically underachieving John Q. Trapp and LeRoy Ellis, perhaps the league's gentlest big man. DeJardin also refused Rubin's request to make a deal for the fiery Pat Riley.
Instead, Rubin was left with Manny Leaks, a 6-8 center; Kevin Loughery, an elderly player with a bum knee; Bob Rule, who hadn't fully recovered from a broken leg; a trio of third-string centers — Schlueter, John Block and Dennis Awtrey; a washed-up future Hall of Famer, Hal Greer; and a bunch of also-rans and never-to-be's. But when the 76ers went 4-4 during the exhibition season, Rubin was ecstatic and expected great things.
Philly opened in Chicago against a tough squad that featured Bob Love, Chet Walker, Jerry Sloan and Norm Van Lier. The game was fiercely contested with the Bulls gaining a four-point win.
Next up were the Braves at Buffalo, whose star players were Bob McAdoo and Randy Smith. Another ferocious ball game ensued, with the home-town Braves coming away with a two-point victory.
With those two difficult defeats, the Sixers seemed to have lost heart. It didn't help that during time-outs in clutch situations Rubin confined his comments to asking for suggestions. Nor that his half-time routine was limited to saying, "You're doing good. Keep up the good work." Rubin would ask the trainer how much time was left before the game was scheduled to resume, and then walk out of the locker room.
In any event, the Sixers lost their initial 16 games, and their season was kaput. If wins were rare and miraculous, one of their perpetual losses was especially painful.
In mid-season, they were beating the Celtics by 12 at the start of the final quarter and seemed to have the game in hand. But by that time, opponents already understood that the Sixers were destined to become one of the worst teams in NBA history. Fearing the humiliation of losing to them, opponents usually played harder against the Sixers than they did against run-of-the-mill ball clubs. So it was that Dave Cowens couldn't bear the possibility of being bested by such a sad-sack team and he simply went berserk in the fourth quarter — single-handedly rescuing the game for the Celts.
Before he was canned, Rubin's record was 4-47, but one of those wins was tainted: It's now part of NBA mythology that the Sonics' players so detested Tom Nissalke, their martinet of a coach, that they deliberately played less than their best in hopes that he'd be fired. The game came down to the wire, but the Sixers' cause was hindered when Rubin insisted on calling timeouts that worked to the benefit of Seattle. As Rubin signaled for each stoppage, there was Loughery, jumping off the bench, holding his head in his hands and screaming, "No, no, no!"
Somehow, the Sixers prevailed. And shortly thereafter Nissalke was indeed fired. Rubin did have some reasonable excuses for his inept performance. Billy Cunningham had jumped to the Carolina Cougars of the ABA the day before Rubin signed on. Rubin's contract was for three years, and his plan was to play the youngsters — like Freddie Boyd and Dave Sorenson — to build a new nucleus. Fred Carter was a nervous-type who was too antsy to run an offense. The media was on his case from Day One because he wasn't a local guy.
Also, before the season was underway, Eddie Gottlieb (revered as Mr. Philadelphia Basketball) told Rubin that he'd be a miracle worker if the Sixers won more than 10 games.
Rubin's replacement was Kevin Loughery, who went 5-26, making an overall mark of 9-73. For the following season, Loughery was succeeded by Gene Shue, and within three years, the Sixers were back in the playoffs.
Someday the Sixers may lose their 10,000th game, and other teams with similarly long histories will inevitably follow. But the Sixers' disastrous 9-win season will never be matched.
None of these accumulated disasters, however, will provide any solace to rabid Philly sports fans. But that's what they get for booing Santa Claus.
