MIAMI — Eight years ago, on an ordinary off day, Erik Spoelstra changed the career of Josh Richardson. A rookie guard on the Miami Heat, Richardson was hardly playing, so on off days he would regularly head to the gym to get up shots. Only on this day, midway through his routine, he noticed Spoelstra — the coach with two NBA titles — approaching. Up until then, the most extensive interaction between the two was Spoelstra rebuffing Richardson’s frequent pleas to be sent to the G League so he could play meaningful minutes. "He would always say, ‘I want to see you work, and I want you to see how we work every day,’ " Richardson remembers. "And I respected that. I had hard-nosed coaches in college, so I was prepared for that, but Spo … Spo was harder." He didn’t know how hard, though, until this off day. As Spoelstra approached while Richardson conducted his shooting routine, he barked out an order: Shoot 100 3-pointers, 10 at a spot. You must make 70. "So I go around, I’m off a little, get hot a little … and I made 57," Richardson said. With the goal of 70 not reached, Spoelstra told Richardson to run the length of the court, up and back, five times. As Richardson ran, he laughed at his predicament: running lines while his teammates were probably at the beach. "I was like, ‘Damn! This is an off day, what does he think he’s doing?’ " Richardson said. A sweat building after the sprints, Richardson returned to the shooting drill. He was better, he thinks he got 63 or 64. "Do it again … up and back," Spoelstra said. Now Richardson is irked: "In my head, I’m like, 'Come on! I chose to be here.' " After finishing the sprints, he takes a ball, throws it and yells the F-word. To Richardson’s surprise, Spoelstra seems to enjoy the outburst. "He’s like, ‘There you go! Compete with yourself!’ " Richardson said. "And I’m like, ‘What is with this guy? What are you talking about, bro?’ " Seething, sweating and spitting more curse words under his breath, Richardson went through his third attempt. "We go around and I remember, I made 69 out of 100. Sixty-nine," Richardson said. "And I was like, ‘Yo … I’m right there.’ " Spoelstra raised his right hand and with his index finger motioned up and back. "At this point," Richardson said, "I’m pissed." His chest heaving and eyes seeing red, Richardson started the fourth circuit. He was irritated, but he also was eager to impress. As a kid, he was often wary of others and didn’t easily trust. But halfway through his first season, he had already admired Spoelstra, just through observation. "I don’t openly respect people for no reason; you gotta show me," Richardson said. "And Spo, man, he was super hands-on, super hard worker. Everyone talks about Heat Culture and all that, but he really kind of lives it. And from the first day I got there, everyone told me how he was always trying to get better. And I found out that he was almost a maniac about it." As Richardson went through his fourth circuit, it was different than his first three. It had purpose, a furious focus. He eclipsed 70 and then some. He did not celebrate or show any emotion. Instead, he braced himself for an approaching Spo. When the coach reached him, he began slapping Richardson’s chest. "He was like, ‘You got it! You got it!’ " Richardson said. "He was like, ‘You can’t just come in here and shoot. You can’t just come in here and do it. You have to compete. You have to push yourself. And you have to do it every day.’ " From that day on, as he has gone on to play for five teams and make more than $56 million, Richardson said he has never done a shooting drill that falls short of that standard. "Every day when I shoot now, I do it like that. It’s just one of those things. It’s the competition, the pressure," Richardson said. Most who come in contact with Spoelstra have their own Spo story. After all, to be coached by Spoelstra is to be moved emotionally. He inspires, angers, challenges and touches. And it works. He has led Miami to five NBA Finals, winning two, and last year was chosen as one of the top 15 coaches of all time by the NBA. Last month, he moved into 20th all-time in head coaching wins. They tell their Spo stories because he won’t, adding to the mystique of what makes him so successful. He hasn’t given an interview about himself since 2014 when Lee Jenkins of Sports Illustrated profiled him. He says his refusal to do interviews is because he wants to return to the shadows after four years of being under the daily spotlight attracted by the Heat’s pairing of LeBron James, Dwyane Wade and Chris Bosh. Also, self-promotion goes against one of his core principles: With the Miami Heat, there is no me, only we. So it is through the stories of others that the Tao of Spo is revealed. The stories show how his compassion, competitiveness and willingness to embrace confrontation are the pathways to his success, often while forming the coaching version of yin and yang. "You liked him," Kelly Olynyk said. "But at the same time, you hated him, too." But before the Tao of Spo had formed, and before he could reach his players and move his teams, he needed to find himself. That discovery happened through tears at perhaps his lowest moment as a coach.
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Spoelstra found the closing moments of Game 6 of the 2011 NBA Finals tough to watch. (Ronald Martinez / Getty Images)[/caption]
The morning when everything changed for Erik Spoelstra, he was in his office, eyes bloodshot and swollen from crying. Beyond his office doors, confetti still littered Miami’s court, where the night before the Dallas Mavericks had finished off a 4-2 series win for the 2011 NBA title.
Stunned and hurt, Spoelstra didn’t leave the arena after the loss. He was tortured because he felt his coaching played a role in the upset. Despite having James, Wade and Bosh, Miami was stymied by Dallas. On defense, the Mavericks clogged the paint, making it difficult for James and Wade to penetrate. On offense, Dallas neutralized Miami’s quickness and athleticism by limiting dribbling and stressing passing to stay one click ahead of rotations.
Spoelstra had no counterattack, and it ate at him.
At daybreak, assistant coach David Fizdale arrived at the arena. He found the coach sitting behind his desk, both stewing and devastated.
"As soon as I opened the door, I could tell it had been one of those nights," Fizdale said. "Probably the longest night of his life. It wasn’t his best look."
They had long been friends, dating to 1997 when they worked in the Heat video room, and they talked openly about their hurt and frustration with the series.
"It was crushing for him, and he blamed himself a lot for it," Fizdale said. "So we sat there, two old friends, teary-eyed and hugging it out, feeling as small as you could feel."
Then, amid the sniffles and clearing of throats, Spoelstra snapped into form. He locked eyes with Fizdale.
"This is typical Spo: he looked at me with bloodshot eyes and said, ‘Never again! Lay it on me … how do we fix it?’ " Fizdale said.
They brainstormed late into the afternoon. The Heat offense was revamped, scrapping non-scoring bigs from posting on the strong side to open more space for James and Wade to attack. And on defense, they accentuated their trapping schemes by adding more switching coverages, designed to hinder teams like Dallas from beating them with crisp passing. In a matter of hours, they had performed a clean sweep of the Heat playbook.
"It was a pretty important moment in time, where failure actually galvanized us to victory," Fizdale said. "But a big part was Spo saying, ‘You know what? I’m flawed. We are flawed. We are not going to let them blame LeBron for this, and we are going to do what is necessary to never feel this way again.’ "
Ron Rothstein, who spent 26 years on NBA benches, including six as Spoelstra’s assistant, said by the time the Heat staff reconvened the next season, he noticed a different Spoelstra.
"He was bound, driven by that experience," Rothstein said. "I never really talked to him about it, but I saw it in his eyes. We would all be in the office talking, and with him there would be this silence. I know he was hurting; we were all hurting. But to his credit, the things that didn’t go well, he was smart enough to own up to it. He learned from his mistakes."
The playbook wasn’t the only thing that changed. So too did Spoelstra. He had tried so hard in his first four seasons to sound like a head coach, carry himself like a head coach, that he never got around to being a head coach. But at some point during the longest night of his life, he found himself and found his voice.
"The pain of losing put a steeliness in him. His overall presence in the gym became bigger and stronger. His willingness to go at people and really challenge them grew," Fizdale said. "It was a dramatic shift … because when he came back the next year, man … he really had an oomph to him. He really held our team to a high standard. He did not waver."
With Spoelstra’s new voice and a new resolve, the Heat went on a dynastic run — four consecutive NBA Finals, back-to-back titles in 2012 and 2013, and 27 consecutive wins during a 66-win season in 2012-13. Along the way, a distinctive trait emerged with Spoelstra’s teams. Drama and conflicts were met head-on and dealt with in the open. It was in contrast to the new NBA, where coaches and teams worked so hard to placate players or look the other way when toxic, me-first players threatened to poison team chemistry.
"A lot of teams avoid confrontation; he runs toward it," Olynyk said. "He likes confrontation … loves it. He thinks it makes you stronger, makes you better."
Bam Adebayo clinches his fists and bangs them together. Once. Twice. Three times. One fist represents Spoelstra; the other, himself.
"We have those moments where me and him clash … clash … clash," the Heat center said, pounding his knuckles. "There’s been a couple times where we’ve pissed each other off and we’ve got to arguing on the sideline."
The debate, almost always, is about winning, and how to achieve that. It doesn’t matter if the disagreements are about strategy, effort or selfishness, Spoelstra demands three things: eye-to-eye communication, nothing is made personal and the debate involves a solution.
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When his daughter was born, Victor Oladipo received a gift from Spoelstra. (Stephen Lew / USA Today)[/caption]
It was March 9, and Caleb Martin was just finishing dinner on an off day when his phone pinged. It was a text message from Spoelstra.
Martin had been a starter all season for the Heat, but on Feb. 24 as the Heat were coming out of the All-Star break, Spoelstra moved him to the second unit to start Kevin Love, who had signed four days earlier. Seven games later, Spoelstra wanted his 27-year-old forward to know his value, starter or reserve.
It wasn’t a three-word text, and it wasn’t a two-line message. Martin said Spoelstra’s text nearly took up the entire screen on his phone.
"It was obvious he put some thought into it," Martin said.
The gist of the text was acknowledging Martin’s impact on the team, and the grace in which he had handled what many players would view as a demotion.
"It was just very personal," Martin said. "And even though it sounds like a little thing, the fact that he’s thinking about stuff like that, what my mind might be going through … it’s just an example of how he doesn’t just think about the game. He cares about us as players, but also as people. Everybody, I’m sure, has their own form of experiencing that with him, but for me, I just appreciated the fact that he was thinking about me, even on an off day."
Victor Oladipo said when his daughter, Naomi, was born in 2022, he discovered a gift at his home. It was a collection of baby clothes sent by Spoelstra.
"And she still be wearing those outfits today," Oladipo said. "But I didn’t have any idea it was coming, no idea he would even consider it. But that just shows you how much he views us not as players, but as people. That’s a gift that not a lot of people are good at — being able to relate, to communicate. But it’s a credit to him because his gift isn’t just in coaching, it’s also in inspiring and touching people’s lives."
Max Strus said if his family visits from the Chicago area, Spoelstra always makes time to talk to them and is up to date on every big event in the Strus family.
"It’s personal stuff like that … like, he knew my sister (Maggie) just had a kid, and he will ask about that, ask about her. You don’t see that all the time from a head coach," Strus said. "One of the things I’ve noticed most about him is that nothing is above him. He has this ability to be a regular, caring person even though he is a high-profile coach."
When Justise Winslow spiraled into a depression while injured with the Heat, it was Spoelstra who first alerted his family, calling Winslow’s brother, Josh, to say he didn’t look or sound healthy. Spoelstra went a step further and met Winslow in Los Angeles for an offseason meeting with professional surfer Laird Hamilton.
Even though Winslow and Spoelstra clashed throughout his four-and-a-half seasons in Miami, Spoelstra never gave up trying to find a common ground. They did trust-building exercises with Hamilton, such as sinking to the bottom of a pool holding 20-pound weights, each looking at the other for support.
Eventually, Winslow started coming out of his darkness and asked Spoelstra to accompany him on his daily treks to watch the sun rise. It was during a sunrise that Winslow finally connected with Spoelstra.
"We talked, like, just as men," Winslow said. "Not as coach and player."
When asked how he views Spoelstra three years after he left Miami, Winslow said, "Now, there is a lot better understanding. Now. I wish I had that back then. But I have it now. ... I learned so much in Miami and a lot of it didn’t kick in until I left, but I have a lot of respect for the way he goes about his business over there."
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Wade played 750 combined regular-season and playoff games for Spoelstra. (Sam Navarro / USA Today)[/caption]
It is March 6, and the Heat are hosting what should be a high-stakes game against Atlanta, the team directly under them in the standings. But the Hawks score on their first eight possessions, sending Spoelstra into a tizzy. He calls timeout four minutes into the game and storms the court, waving his arms like a baseball umpire ruling safe, and then pointing down to the court while saying, "This stops now!”
In the huddle, he pounds his blue felt-tip pen against his clipboard and lays into his team. The message?
"Get your s--- together," Adebayo said. "Pure and simple and to the point."
The Heat came back to win but they are still among the more disappointing teams in the Eastern Conference. After an NBA Finals appearance in 2020 and a Game 7 loss at home to Boston in last season’s Eastern Conference finals, Miami has been scuffling around seventh place for much of the season.
Spoelstra says this season has been unique in that he has had to rip up game plans and discard rotations more frequently than ever. The Heat have the most games missed to injury and are the lowest-scoring team in the NBA, and they almost always play close games, gritting and grinding just enough to stay relevant. It hasn’t been easy, and it hasn’t been what he expected, but he loves it. He calls it "the grind."
"He says when it’s hard like this, and you can overcome it, it is when you feel most alive," Haslem said.
So Spoelstra calls the close games the "beauty of the grind" and he constantly praises his team for showing grit, and "playing in the mud."
"That’s what I love most about him," Love said. "His competitiveness. He enjoys the hunt, the chase. And this, what we are going through is hard, but anything worth doing is hard. He and I were talking the other day about how winning at the highest level is the hardest thing you will ever do, and I love that he understands that, and grasps that."
To be coached by Spoelstra is to feel. It might be anger, it might be elation and it might be frustration. But they feel. And as the playoffs near, and the standings say the Heat are not contenders, the players in Spoelstra’s locker room feel differently.
"From the outside looking in, I’m sure it looks like we don’t have anything figured out," Martin said. "But we really, genuinely feel we can still do something great. Everybody says that, but we know, and we feel it. In our minds, we are still working toward a championship."
The reason for much of that belief, much of that feeling? Spoelstra, who has 96 playoff wins, the most of any NBA coach since he took over in 2008.
Said Martin: "With him, you are always going to feel like you have a chance. That’s what makes us different from everybody else. We might not do it in the prettiest or sexiest way, but it’s sexy to us."
(Photo illustration: Sean Reilly / The Athletic; photo: Tim Nwachukwu / Getty Images)
