Monty Williams’ rise to become the head coach of the New Orleans Hornets fits. He’s a smooth, smart man who knows the game, and he came from a locker room that all but handed out clipboards as parting gifts.

Three of his former Spurs teammates (Doc Rivers, Avery Johnson and Vinny Del Negro) became NBA head coaches before he did.

But Williams is the only one of them who began his coaching career with the Spurs, and this doesn’t fit.

Williams knows why better than anyone.



This goes back a few years, shortly after Gregg Popovich replaced Bob Hill as the Spurs coach. With David Robinson and others injured, Popovich turned to a 6-foot-7 talent who had arrived the year before in a trade with the Knicks. Williams scored 30 points in one game, 28 in another, and Popovich wondered then if he’d found something even while he lost a lot of games.

The losing produced the Tim Duncan lottery. And while Duncan and Williams became good friends that next season, the two were a poor mix on the floor. Williams had been at his best on the low block, and now he was in Duncan’s way.

Williams still hoped to sign another contract and stay. His wife loved San Antonio, and he had started working with a youth ministry.

His faith influences him today. Williams may be the only NBA coach who doesn’t curse; the word he uses when he comes closest is “snap.”

Popovich’s vocabulary has always been spicier, and his plan in 1999 didn’t line up with Williams, either. Popovich wanted spacing for Duncan and Robinson, and so he offered Williams a guaranteed contract only if he agreed to go to Chicago in a sign-and-trade deal for Steve Kerr.

Williams balked, eventually signing with Denver for the league minimum. He played one game before the Nuggets cut him.

None of that made him happy – the move, the loss of income, the rejection. Williams said a few things aimed at Popovich, and this didn’t help Popovich at the time. He was already under enough fire.

What followed played to Williams’ anger. Rivers signed him in Orlando, partly because of his relationship with Duncan. When the Magic came after Duncan in free agency in July 1, 2000, who did the franchise assign to escort Duncan to Orlando?

Williams.

Popovich, that day, likely said something more harsh than “snap.” He had reason then to see his former player as the enemy.

But the years passed, and Williams saw the league differently. When a knee injury forced an early retirement, Williams and his wife returned to San Antonio to be closer to their church, and he called Popovich.

He wasn’t sure exactly what to expect. But then Williams said he wanted to coach someday, and Popovich acted as if nothing had happened in the past between them.

“You need to be around here,” Popovich told him.

Williams happily accepted a position as an unpaid intern. But before he began work, he felt the need to tell Popovich a few things.

Such as: “It was just one of those things where I felt like I was kicked out of the house. But I was kicked out because I wasn’t the player I should have been.”

And: “If I could buy a spread in the paper, I would apologize over and over again for the way I acted back then.”

And: “That was a very immature time of my life, maybe because I was young or maybe because I was just stupid.”

Popovich never thought Williams was stupid. When Williams returned as an intern, Popovich saw a hardworking, humble guy who wanted to learn. After a year Popovich planned to create a position on the staff for him, and that’s when Portland offered Williams a job as a bench assistant.

Five years later Williams has his own team. And while that’s a remarkable rise for a former intern, just as remarkable is how he reacted when he got the offer and he wanted to share the good news.

First on his list to call?

Not long ago, he would have been last.