ACC

Tony Bennett's NBA career is forgotten, except by those who saw a future coach

Bennett
Bennett Getty Images

Muggsy Bogues was filling out his NCAA tournament bracket almost two weeks ago, an upset here and a bit of chalk there, and before long it was time to crown a champion.

The winner of this year's tournament would be detail-oriented, the popular and undersize former NBA player determined, and calm under pressure. The team would be impossible to rattle and - preferably to the former Wake Forest star - a member of the Atlantic Coast Conference.

Bogues thought about it, and then made his selection: Virginia, as he saw it, was perfect.

Its defense is smothering, its pace methodical. But perhaps just as important, Bogues said, was that the top-seeded Cavaliers are a reflection of their coach, Tony Bennett, who for three seasons was Bogues's teammate with the Charlotte Hornets.

"All the way," the 5-foot-3 former point guard declared. "I see the defense, the discipline that his players always continue to show. I see the imprint that Tony Bennett is having on the program and how these guys are responding to him."

More than two decades ago, Bennett played like he now coaches.

He was no-nonsense, or at least most of the time, and he liked entering a game with a plan - and, most times, sticking to it. His career was brief and mostly unmemorable: seven starts in three NBA seasons, interrupted often by recurring foot problems, and left off the Hornets' playoff roster in 1993. But those who knew him then believe that without those experiences, Bennett wouldn't be leading U-Va. into the Sweet 16 on Friday at the United Center, the Chicago arena where Bennett made his final NBA basket in 1995.

Entering the 1992 NBA draft, Hornets Coach Allan Bristow wanted to make a splash with the No. 2 pick. Bennett, a 6-foot point guard from Wisconsin-Green Bay projected briefly as a lottery pick, wasn't it. The kid was determined and smart, fixated like his father and college coach, Dick Bennett, on solving a complex game like a puzzle. But anyway, when Alonzo Mourning is available, that's an easy choice.

Bennett's size and history of back problems caused his draft stock to plummet. Charlotte considered trading up from No. 35 overall, its second pick, but it took a chance and, when the Hornets' turn came early in the second round, there waited Bennett.

"In every situation we put Tony in, you knew he was going to do his best," Bristow would recall much later. "You could tell that if he made mistakes, he was going to work on it and he was going to correct those mistakes."

Bennett was so eager to begin his NBA career, he reported to Hornets training camp before signing his rookie contract. After he did, paying him a cool $140,000 in his first year, he tried to adjust to his new surroundings.

The young player spent most of his time watching Bogues from the bench, and after games when Mourning, Larry Johnson or Dell Curry hit the town, the conservative Bennett turned in early. A big night for the quiet Wisconsin kid consisted of flexing his muscles to the delight of teammates who swore he looked like Jean-Claude Van Damme or, one time, shyly swiveling his hips as he sang an Elvis Presley hit during a team-building exercise.

More often, former teammate Kevin Lynch recalled, Bennett would shake his head on buses or planes when teammates recounted lurid tales from the night before, sometimes reading the Bible or covering his ears with headphones so, Lynch speculated, Bennett wouldn't "hear it out loud."

Bennett called his father often, Dick Bennett still a few years from leading Wisconsin to the Final Four, and tried to understand Bristow's offense. He gravitated toward assistant coach Bill Hanzlik, absorbing what he could about how and why certain things worked; how to motivate young men from different backgrounds and experiences; and the way a team approaches discipline is an indicator of its success.

Bennett did what he was told, keeping quiet when Bristow screamed at his young point guard rather than his more famous and better-paid stars. He appeared, often briefly, in 149 games over his first two seasons, finishing that span in double-digit scoring 12 times.

He tried to shake off plantar fasciitis in his left foot, delaying surgery through those first two seasons because, in the NBA, an extended absence reveals a fringe player's replaceability. "To be his size," Bristow said, "something has to be exceptional: a great dribbler, a great shooter. Tony was just, he probably was not exceptional in any of those departments."

Then, in January 1995, Bennett still only 25, he opted to undergo foot surgery. He told the Charlotte Observer back then that he - and the Hornets - believed the most important thing was for him to heal. "If I'm not healthy," he said then, "it doesn't do anybody any good."

On April 22, 1995, Bennett traveled with his teammates to Chicago and, coming off the bench during a 16-point loss to Michael Jordan's Bulls, scored 12 points. He would play 17 minutes the following night back in Charlotte, but afterward, that was it. The Hornets didn't offer him a new contract, and the Cavaliers waived Bennett after a brief audition.

Bennett, now 46, played overseas for a while, and many of his teammates eventually lost touch with him. Bristow, who labeled Bennett one of his favorite players, said he hasn't spoken with Bennett in years, and Lynch follows ACC basketball only casually.

Bogues, though, wondered sometimes what happened to the quiet kid who shook his head on the team bus and wanted to know why certain things worked on a basketball floor. He thought about a player who occasionally seemed more interested in understanding the action rather than participating in it.

Anyway, Bogues said, he always thought the kid would make a good coach.

This story was originally published March 24, 2016 at 4:34 PM with the headline "Tony Bennett's NBA career is forgotten, except by those who saw a future coach."

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