Brown's Tummy Troubles Pre-Dated By Pistons' Vitale

FSN's "Best Damn Sports Show Period" recently aired an episode that featured the Top 50 Biggest Blowups in sports -- the ones caught on videotape, of course. After all, had there been TV cameras rolling in the early 20th century, I suspect #1 would have been Ty Cobb's bludgeoning of a paraplegic in the stands in Philadelphia. Or his alleged killing of a fan beneath the bleachers in Detroit. As it was, FSN chose Hal McRae's meltdown as Royals manager in 1993 -- when he went ballistic and yanked telephones out of the wall, cursed, and acted as a whirling dervish possessed by the devil -- in the midst of a horrible start in April.

In fact, as I watched all 50 blowups -- a guilty pleasure -- and I saw one coach after another become apoplectic -- veins bulging in their necks and having to be restrained, it reminded me that I am amazed that one of them hasn't dropped dead -- right then and there -- considering their ages and the pressure they exert on themselves.

Larry Brown has missed two and a half games as coach of the New York Knicks because of something the matter with his stomach. It popped -- perhaps a month or two behind schedule, but not surprising nonetheless. I could have told you last summer that something in Brown's body would go haywire before this season coaching the misfit Knicks was over and done with. It took nearly 80 games, but it happened.

Yet the nuts like Lou Piniella -- who I saw yank first base out of its hole and fling it a couple of times during the "Best Damn" show, while managing the Mariners -- sail through with nary a day in the hospital. They must be made out of stronger stock.

Dick Vitale, when he coached the Pistons, himself had some much-expected tummy trouble. It started when he resigned as coach of the U-D Titans, tearfully announcing that he couldn't continue due to stomach problems.

About 18 months later (summer 1978), he was back -- as coach of the Pistons. It was a job he shamelessly campaigned for. And everyone -- sports columnists, fans, and the team owner himself -- fell for Dickie V's malarkey. It was much the same ruse he used to get the good fathers at U-D to hire him as coach in the '70's, even though there were better qualified men than him who also wanted the job.

But Vitale's stomach was not healed. Or, at the very least, it wasn't healed enough to withstand the nonsense that coaching the undertalented Pistons could regurgitate onto a man.

One night, the Pistons were on their way to another loss. Vitale started screaming at the officials. They gave him a technical foul. He screamed some more. They gave him another. Two T's -- so long, Dickie V. But Vitale kept screaming. He waved his arms. He took off his suit jacket. He screamed some more. Security came. Eventually, Vitale was dragged off the Silverdome court -- literally kicking and screaming -- as the probably-sparse crowd roared.

Not long afterward, Vitale reported something wrong with his stomach. It popped -- and anyone who was surprised should have had their Maalox taken away.

He made it back, but the Pistons finished 30-52. The next season, the team off to a 4-8 start and no hope in sight, the Pistons fired Vitale.

So now Brown is, like Vitale, another New Jersey boy gone bad. Or, at least, he shares the weak stomach gene from the Jersey swamps with Dickie V.

Whether Brown returns to coach the Knicks next season is circumspect. But the Knicks apparently have an insurance clause that says they owe him nothing -- and he signed a five-year, $50 million contract -- if Brown has to resign due to health reasons.

Too bad the Pistons didn't write such a caveat into Vitale's contract. Of course, he would have had to resign for it to matter. And the only way you could have gotten Dickie V. to sign off on such a resignation would be if you had dragged him into Bill Davidson's office -- kicking and screaming.