From the archives: The return of Pat Riley

This story was originally published in Newsday on Dec. 19, 1995

No matter what the reception accorded Pat Riley when he returns to Madison Square Garden tonight as the coach of the opposition, the very presence of so many fans will be an indirect tribute to the man. He can't claim personal responsibility for the full house because there hasn't been an unsold ticket to a Knicks' home game, regular or postseason, in almost three years. Then again, it was during his tenure that the team became the attraction it is today.

Riley left without the NBA championship he held up as the only reason for competition and he did so in a manner that inflamed segments of the media and the general public. But the Knicks won with greater frequency under Riley than at any other time in their history and, at least as important to his corporate employers, they produced more revenue than ever before. He restored their prestige in New York and throughout the nation.

Whether he departed for additional money or power is irrelevant now. He got both in Miami, where he runs the tightest ship in the Carnival Cruise Lines fleet. His arrangement with the Heat, which has added the title of president to that of head coach, is proof positive that his motivational speeches to business groups were not without substance. Riley cut himself quite a deal.

That the Knicks have flourished under his successor, Don Nelson, should not be used as ammunition against him. Truth is, both players and fans should be pleased he left enough talent in place to contend for an Eastern Conference title. Perhaps Riley believed the Knicks were too old to mount another challenge. And perhaps they will falter badly in the spring once the playoffs commence.

Regardless, only the Bulls have lost fewer games than the Knicks through the first seven weeks of the new season. They are in much better shape than Riley found them when he signed his now infamous five-year contract on the last day of May, 1991. The Knicks, you may recall, had punctuated a sub-.500 regular season with a three-game swoon against the Bulls in the first round of the playoffs, including an unprecedented 41-point defeat at Chicago Stadium. In the course of that particular campaign, the organization said goodbye to two coaches, Stu Jackson and John MacLeod, and one general manager, Al Bianchi.

The turnaround that followed wasn't all Riley's doing. He received outstanding support from Dave Checketts, the young club president who hired him, restructured the franchise and smoothly negotiated the salary cap that so befuddled predecessors in the front office.

Checketts and the man he appointed as GM, Ernie Grunfeld, have added the likes of Anthony Mason, Xavier McDaniel, Doc Rivers, Charles Smith and Derek Harper to the nucleus of Patrick Ewing, Charles Oakley and John Starks. But it was Riley who forged them into a team, one that electrified New York in the coach's initial year when, in the aftermath of a 51-31 regular season, they outlasted the Pistons in the first round of the playoffs and then forced the defending champion Bulls to a seventh game of the conference semifinals.

Not only did that make a suitable impression on the NBA but also on the city's knowledgeable basketball fans. In their previous season, the Knicks had accounted for only eight sellouts. The figure doubled under Riley and in his second year, 1992-93, the Knicks filled the Garden for all but two of their 41 regular-season contests. Their last non-sellout at home, regular or postseason, occurred on Feb. 2, 1993, against the Bullets.

This rise in popularity was accomplished despite a reconfiguration of the Garden to accomodate thousands of high-priced club seats, offering waiter and waitress service in the vicinity of courtside for a sizable premium. The Knicks did more than just win games under Riley. They became trendy.
Although the team didn't play with the skill or style of the franchise's admired and even beloved champions from the 1970s, they had Riley. He was the show. With his intensity, his Armani suits and his slicked-back hair so reminiscent of the rapacious Gordon Gekko in the motion picture "Wall Street," he appeared carefully tailored for the role.

It was only coincidence that he arrived on the scene just as the Knicks were implementing the new seating plan. He couldn't take credit for the pricing or the menu. But Riley's appearance and his control of everything energized the surroundings.

He appeared to demand sacrifices not only of his players but of the public, which was only too happy to buy into the notion of oneness no matter how inflated the cost. Through his salesmanship on and off the court, he made greed respectable. For some true believers, those who occupy the VIP seats directly across from the team benches, the price has risen to $ 1,000 per ticket even as the star of the production has moved on.

Riley returns tonight as a man able to purchase a pair of tickets alongside Spike Lee's without having to check with his banker. In fact, he probably could pick up the tab for the entire row. Just the other day he was hailed as a shining example of Miami Chic in a special advertising supplement enclosed with the New York Times.

Imagine that. The man may stand at the far end of the court tonight and he may knot his tie in the visitors' locker room, but his presence deserves to be acknowledged by the Knicks' 141st consecutive sellout crowd at the Garden. For those tempted to propose a toast, consider champagne.