During Game 1, the arena was loud. The music in the stadium was, I swear, several decibels louder than your normal stadium music, and the fans weren't silent either.
Yet through the cacophony, all the way across a massive arena, even up in the rafters, one noise was clear as a bell.
Phil Jackson's whistle.
When he inserts his pinkies in the corner of his mouth and blows, I have to believe you can hear that thing a mile away.
Before I arrived at the Finals, I had already received the following e-mail from coach Mark Dunning in England:
Here is a challenge for you: Having observed Phil Jackson for many years now, it has always puzzled me why, several times during a game, he sticks his fingers in his mouth and produces that shrill whistle of his.
Now, I've tried to analyze this, he does it on defense and on offense, but it appears that it has no response reflex from the players at all!
What's going on here?
It is obviously some kind of "in house" signal to trigger ... what?
One cannot tell from watching the play on court nor any player's reaction. (Unlike say a play call visual signal, where it is plain to see what the players are doing on recognition of said signal).
So, your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to give me an explanation for this.
Today I set out on a mission to figure that out.
First of all, some confirmation from people who sit next to Coach Jackson that that is one hell of a whistle.
"It is," says Lamar Odom, "super loud."
"He's got a very strong whistle, of course. I think the players, they respond to it pretty well. He does use a regular whistle in practice," explains assistant Tex Winter. "But in a game, I doubt if that regular whistle is loud enough. It has got to be piercing. His whistle is a very piercing whistle."
"My dad used to be able to whistle that loud," adds assistant Kurt Rambis. "You could be all over the neighborhood, and you'd know it was time for dinner. We were usually pretty quick, too. He didn't have to whistle twice."
No one else on the team can whistle like that, but Ronny Turiaf is close. He put on a mean demonstration with two fingers in his mouth, and I suggested that he might be qualified to be a coach. "Me and Phil," says Turiaf, "we have that special bond. Does that mean I can be a coach? Why not?"
Assistant Jim Cleamons admits: "I wish I could do it."
So, what does it mean? "It means," says Turiaf, "something is coming."
But it means ... what is coming?
"It can mean a lot of different things," says Rambis. "But it's more just pay attention, be alert ... something's coming. It could be a certain play, a defensive adjustment that we talked about. The players know when they hear it that their antennae should go up. They know what it means. Maybe not in every instance do young players -- who haven't had enough time on the court listening to him -- know. But the veterans, who have been here, they know. They may not know specifically, exactly, but they know something different is coming up, something is about to happen, and they know to heighten their senses."
"It generally means," says Winter, "he wants them to double. To two-time the ball. Or he's alerting them to certain things. Either they're being screened, or he wants them to double a screen, or jump out on a screen, or whatever. He points out in advance that they'll get the signal from him in certain situations."
"It could mean four or five different things," says Odom. "Usually it's whatever we went over. Whatever we focused on. Usually we are trained to know. If he whistled right now, I'd know it meant to wrap it up and head to the bus. We know from practice, practice, practice. It means be alert, pay attention, get up."
Jim Cleamons says it's a good sign when Jackson isn't whistling too much. "It means be alert. Be on the alert. It's a key. Maybe something we have talked about. He sees it coming before they see it, it gives them a chance to react. Little cheat sheet. But hopefully, they see it coming, and he doesn't have to whistle."
(Photo: Andrew D. Bernstein/NBAE/Getty Images)
