Gregg Popovich Craig Sager Sideline Interview Screengrab via NBA YouTube
By Michael Grant on

We can reasonably debate who the greatest NBA coach of all time is. Mount Rushmore includes Phil Jackson, Pat Riley, Red Auerbach, and Gregg Popovich.

However, when it comes to awkward sideline interviews, Popovich is the undisputed heavyweight champion.

Popovich, who stepped away as coach from the San Antonio Spurs on Friday after 29 years, wasn’t the first coach to express overt disdain for being required to speak to a reporter in the middle of a game, but no one did it better. He was a master of his craft, often leaving journalists uncomfortable while creating uneasy and frequently amusing television.

Gregg Popovich was committed to the bit. Like a basketball version of Andy Kaufman, he often left the viewer wondering what was real and what was an act. This was performance art of the highest level in sports.

“My understanding has always been there was no acting,” Fox San Antonio’s Chuck Miketinac told Awful Announcing in a text message. “He simply did not like doing them.”

Many coaches see these in-game interviews as a tedious obligation—something they would gladly avoid if not for the insistence of the league’s broadcasting partners. The median salary for an NBA head coach is approximately $7 million, and television contracts contribute to that lofty pay. We’ve grown to expect these interviews, even though they are rarely revelatory. What we usually get are curt answers and clichés. Coaches often do the required bare minimum before returning to the sidelines.

Popovich took the sideline interview to a level that resulted in maximum cringe. What’s fascinating is that by trying to show the absurdity of it all, he (unintentionally?) turned it into must-see TV. You wanted to see how Popovich would make the poor reporter squirm or look silly.

Popovich delighted in making a mess of the medium. It didn’t matter who you were. David Aldridge is a well-respected journalist who has covered the NBA for decades. Even he couldn’t avoid Popovich’s acerbity. In a 2012 sideline interview, Aldridge asked a fundamental but fair question, and Popovich mocked him for using the word “happy.”

Aldridge, now a senior columnist for The Athletic, mentioned that encounter on Saturday in a larger piece about Popovich’s career, writing: “A fair and valuable lesson for me: Don’t improvise. I was trying to think for him. Mistake. He called me on it. Lesson learned. The walk back to my spot on press row felt like I was wearing a suit full of wet charcoal.”

Was it a teachable moment, or was Popovich raging against the establishment? Former NBA coach George Karl maintains it was the latter: “I think what Pop does is still his form of protest that this is not right.”

The most famous Popovich foil was Craig Sager. These awkward encounters became legendary. From an outsider’s point of view, Popovich’s treatment of the late Turner Sports sideline reporter seemed hostile. He poked fun at Sager’s questions and his colorful attire. Sometimes, Popovich responded without a word but with a piercing glare of contempt. It got to the point where it almost seemed like a dark comedy routine.

What was real, and what was just for show? We got more insights after Sager passed away in 2016. While Sager battled cancer, Popovich called and sent letters to the Sager family. If you judge a person by what those associated with his profession say about him, it’s clear there was much more to the Popovich-Sager relationship than these snippets.

Gregg Popovich accomplished more than he could have possibly imagined. He won five championships, coached Hall of Fame players, and won more games than anyone in league history. You also must acknowledge his curmudgeonly behavior with the media. If he had to do these sideline interviews on somebody else’s terms, they would have to listen to him on his terms. 

Popovich’s legacy includes perfecting amazingly awkward TV. 

About Michael Grant

Born in Jamaica. Grew up in New York City. Lives in Louisville, Ky. Sports writer. Not related to Ulysses S. Grant.

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