The sun had just emerged over the Santa Ynez Mountains when Luke Walton lowered himself into the pool of the luxury resort nestled just north of Santa Barbara. Like every other morning, Walton’s ankles were stiff, and his back groaned with every movement. This was going to be much more than a quick dip to clear his mind before the Lakers’ second day of training camp.
On that morning in late September, the team’s first-year coach was put through a grueling workout, starting with interval laps, broken up by one-legged squats, jumps and abdominal exercises.
“That’s when you know you’re old,” Walton said wryly, “when you’re doing water aerobics.”
At 36, Walton is actually the youngest head coach in the NBA. Among his peers, he is far from alone in trying to find ways to preserve his health. The coaching lifestyle tests endurance and mental toughness, just as it does for players. Although most coaches have access to the same science, equipment and training staffs as players, they are typically left to their own devices when it comes to taking care of themselves.
While the Lakers have a robust medical staff, “their days are full with the players,” General Manager Mitch Kupchak said.
Because of that, the Lakers are taking extra steps to ensure Walton stays healthy and on the sidelines.
Supervising Walton’s pool workout that September morning was Josh Wright. Officially, his title is assistant to the head coach, a position created after Walton arrived. Wright’s duties are myriad, but first and foremost, he oversees a fitness regimen for Walton and the Lakers’ assistant coaches.
A former personal trainer with a kinesiology degree, Wright connected with Walton several years ago through Phil Jackson. Wright helped Jackson through the back and hip troubles that plagued the Hall of Fame coach throughout his tenure with the Lakers.
“Just watch Phil walk,” Kupchak said, “and you know what he’s been through.”
Few know the importance of health as well as Walton, who watched his father, Hall of Fame center Bill Walton, live through constant back and foot pain; played for the Lakers when Jackson missed road trips and sat on a special seat because of his various maladies; and whose career received a boost from a wildly successful stint as Warriors interim coach while Steve Kerr was sidelined following back surgery.
“I think that has lifted Luke’s health-concern IQ,” said Michael Goldberg, the executive director of the coaches’ association.
Coaches throughout the league tackle their fitness in different ways. Most teams continue to expand their training staffs, but the Lakers are believed to be unique in having a trainer dedicated to the coaching staff.
“That’s a very smart, aggressive, proactive way to help a guy that’s in a very important position,” said Dallas Mavericks coach Rick Carlisle, who is also the president of the NBA Coaches Association. “These guys are all warriors of the game. A lot of them played it at a very intense level and there are residual outcomes from a long playing career.”
Walton is three years removed from a 10-year playing career that was persistently interrupted by injuries. In his first season as an assistant coach in Golden State, in 2014-15, Walton packed on at least 15 pounds, and the extra weight intensified the daily aches and pains he feels in his back and every joint.
Walton’s weight became a running joke with the Warriors as he tried to keep it in check.
“Even though you know it and you’re aware of it,” Walton said, “with the schedule we have, it’s hard to do the stuff we need to do. And as much as you’re just standing and traveling and (sleeping on) hotel beds, it catches up to you quickly.”
Walton amassed a 39-4 record as Golden State’s interim coach last season, catapulting him to the top of the Lakers’ list of candidates when they had a coaching opening in April.
Kerr, Walton’s boss, was out for those 43 games after offseason back surgery created a fluid leak in his spine. The residual migraines, which still torment Kerr, made it impossible for him to coach.
“It was very eye-opening for everyone in our profession,” Carlisle said.
That underlines the heart of the issue for Walton. Kerr’s job was to coach “the most fun team in the world,” Walton said, and he couldn’t be a part of it because of his health.
“It’s scary to know that at any moment you might not have it anymore,” Walton said. “So you better do whatever you can to take care of yourself.”
“Luke is smart,” Kerr said on a recent trip through Los Angeles with the Warriors. “I think he saw what happened with me and I think he realized we’ve got to get all our coaches ahead of the game and just stay with it.”
LEAGUE-WIDE BATTLE
The 29 coaches who don’t have the luxury of a team employee monitoring their physical activity and diet are their own watchdogs – with varying degrees of success. Personal accountability can be tough in a profession that often demands 90-hour work weeks and offers not even the illusion of job security.
The coaches’ association, with Carlisle leading the charge, offers its members guidelines for their health and well-being. It commissioned a sleep study. A monthly newsletter is distributed and a nutritionist is kept on retainer.
“We put an extremely high emphasis on the importance of the health of our coaches,” Carlisle said. “And the resources are available to them.”
For all those efforts, most coaches said they revert to bad habits as the season drags on. They don’t get enough sleep and eat poorly. Who has time for exercise?
“All those things you’re trying to do get put on the back burner to just getting your team ready to play and dealing with whatever crisis,” said Kevin McHale, the former Rockets and Timberwolves head coach who is now an analyst for Turner Sports. “And believe me, when you’re coaching, there’s a daily crisis.”
It’s a message that resonated among the coaches interviewed. Their personal well-being often comes secondary to the success of the team.
“That’s something we don’t do a good enough job of,” Clippers coach Doc Rivers said.
Rivers said he lost 27 pounds before the start of last season only to gain 19 back by the end of it.
It can be a vicious cycle. After the Clippers were blown out in a much-anticipated matchup with the Warriors earlier this month, Rivers required some comfort.
“I went and bought fried chicken and ate the whole thing,” he said. “That’s not what you should do at one in the morning, but that’s what we’re doing.”
With the lack of sleep, late nights and early-morning flights and food always on hand, it’s easy to understand how coaches could lose themselves.
“Most coaches aren’t kids anymore,” McHale said. “You’re an old man and you’re on the same schedule as these 25-year-old kids. It never bothered me when I was 28. It bothers you when you’re 58.”
Phoenix coach Earl Watson, like Walton, was playing until three years ago. He is 37 and still likes to get on the court with his players. His suits are intentionally tailored tight to his frame, a gentle reminder that he can’t afford to gain weight.
Terry Stotts used to take long solitary walks when his Trail Blazers were on the road, but that was before he suffered a stress reaction in his foot, requiring him to coach four games this season wearing a walking boot, and two more in black Ugg slippers.
For some like Walton, the challenge is taking care of lingering injuries from a long career. Others simply try to make healthy choices.
Carlisle tries to get in a 45-minute workout each morning, a daily effort to mitigate the back and shoulder injuries he suffered as a player.
“It’s really a matter of maintaining strength, balance and just doing the maintenance work,” Carlisle said, huffing into the phone as he rode a stationary bike last week at the Mavericks’ team hotel in Salt Lake City. “If I do it, I feel really good.”
Others are less particular.
“I don’t do much exercise,” Knicks coach Jeff Hornacek said. “I need to. A little Advil here and there never hurts.”
BETTER HABITS
With the help of Wright, who was not made available for this story, Walton tries to squeeze in a physical activity every day. In the summer, he’s a mainstay in the Manhattan Beach volleyball scene. In the hours before preseason games at Staples Center he tried to add a weightlifting routine to his schedule, but, no surprise, it conflicted with his other duties.
With the Warriors, Walton joined Kerr in the ritual of game-day yoga.
“It was kind of our routine,” Kerr said, “we’d go and talk about the game and get our workout in and it was good.”
Walton brought that with him to L.A. Once shootaround wraps, he’ll find a yoga studio near his Manhattan Beach home. Throughout his first season, he has been trying different places. So far, none of his assistants has joined him.
A first-year head coach of one of the word’s best-known sports teams, Walton’s days are already packed. Without someone else to hold him accountable for his fitness and diet, he knew he would put on weight, his old injuries would flare up, and his job performance would suffer. Maybe one day he would be in too much pain to coach.
“If you’re starting out as a coach,” Kupchak said, “the number one thing that you should probably do is take care of yourself as best as possible – knowing what Phil went through, knowing what his dad went through.”
That’s where Wright comes in.
“I have so many other decisions to make,” Walton said, “he just tells me to do it and I can just do it.”
The Lakers are often accused of living in the past, but the organization’s efforts to protect Walton are well ahead of the curve.
“An NBA coach doesn’t grow on trees,” said Goldberg, the coaches’ association director. “The Lakers recognize this guy’s a precious commodity, we’ve got to take care of him. They set the stage with that kind of program.”
Contact the writer: boram@scng.com
