Everybody Hates Mike

Gilbert introduced Brown as the Cavaliers' new coach on June 2, 2005. The second-guessing had already begun.

"Excuse me, but as Peggy Lee sang: 'Is that all there is?'" wrote Plain Dealer columnist Bill Livingston. "No Zen Master, Phil Jackson? No local guy with superstars, Flip Saunders? . . . Maybe Mike Brown will be fine. He better be. Otherwise, kiss LeBron goodbye."

It was a quintessentially Cleveland sentiment: The coming of something new was sure to portend tragedy. So as Brown shaped a mismatched roster into a perennial playoff team, the chorus of Is that all there is? barely softened. As one blogger wrote on cleveland.com: "Mike Brown is the most successful coach in Cavaliers history. So I say we pat him on the back, tell him nice job, and send him on his way."

On sports radio, the calls center on two themes: LeBron James as Messiah, and Mike Brown as That Moron in the Suit. "I hear people constantly criticize him for his offense, and they seem to overlook his defense," says Rizzo. "The Cavs might have overachieved last year. But if they did, it was because of their defense . . . And that comes from Mike Brown."

The national press happily piles on. During last year's Eastern Conference Finals, Bill Simmons, ESPN.com's couch-bound NBA junkie, wrote that Brown was "so overmatched, it's almost not funny. When Flip Saunders is working you like a speed-bag, it's time to pick another profession."

Though Brown dispatched Saunders in the next four games, Simmons was at it again a week later, pegging Brown at an 11.8 on the "Deer in the Headlights" scale at the start of the NBA Finals. By Game 3, he was calling Brown one of the worst coaches in Finals history.

Though neither Gilbert nor Ferry ever breathed a word of doubt about their coach's future, there was talk by this season that Brown's seat, if not boiling hot, was at least heated by a warming plate. In January, another ESPN columnist, Chris Sheridan, ranked Brown third among coaches most likely to be fired. The odds on getting canned: 12 to 1.

He signed an extension 10 days later.

More patient fans seem to understand that Brown's been hamstrung from the start. To create a winner fast, in hopes of re-signing James in 2006, Ferry belly-flopped into free agency in 2005. But his splashy acquisitions — Larry Hughes, Donyell Marshall, and Damon Jones — have left the Cavs doubly handcuffed. Not only did all three fail to live up to their billing, but lengthy contracts have left them untradable. So while stars like Jason Kidd and Pau Gasol go flying around the league, the Cavs are left without a dance partner and with a roster severely flawed.

Yet somehow, the world has come to the conclusion that Brown has been little more than Witness to the Cavs' success. In most fans' eyes, there's really only one man of import at The Q: LeBron. Everyone else is a burden the star must carry.

It's a notion that makes guard Eric Snow burst into angry laughter: "Do you sense anyone in this organization gets respect? I mean, be real about it. I think that has a lot to do with an extraordinary, tremendous, talented young fellow on your team. And it's easy for people to say it's all because of him. So for all the good things that we do . . . to a certain extent it hurts other people, because you may not get the credit that you deserve."

Brown knows the criticism. All that stuff about his offense, the things you scream at your flat-screen as James pounds the ball, waiting for a screen while the rest of his teammates stand watching — he's heard it.

Not just from you.

From his boss.

Danny Ferry didn't hire Mike Brown; Gilbert did. But the two were close to a package deal. Brown took the job knowing Ferry would likely be the GM. Before he was hired, Ferry gave Gilbert his blessing. As Ferry puts it, "We've got our skins in this game together."

The result is a relationship that's as close as any GM-coach tandem in the NBA. Ferry lurks at nearly every practice. After games, they meet to debrief. Then, when the assistant coaches leave, "Danny and I will sit and we'll talk," says Brown. "It's good for me to hear Danny's perspective . . . Depending on how I'm feeling, Danny could be there with me until one in the morning."

After the Finals last summer, the two met to review the season. But this time, Brown didn't quite appreciate Ferry's perspective. While Ferry is cut from the same defense-first cloth, he saw the Finals the same way fans did: The Cavs' offense just didn't work.

"He's watching the practices, he's watching the games, he's watching us struggle," Brown says. "And that was one of the things he told me. At first, you get offended. You just won 50 games. Screw you!"

Ferry urged Brown to spend time during the off season with Ettore Messina, an Italian coach known for offensive creativity.