"Shark cartilage."
Doc Rivers, the coach of the Boston Celtics, had no idea what Jack Nicholson was talking about.
"Shark cartilage," Nicholson repeated as the Celtics prepared to huddle at the visitor's bench inside Staples Center and Rivers screamed himself hoarse.
Rivers still didn't understand. Only after the game did Nicholson, famed actor and Lakers fan extraordinaire, approach from his seat: Shark cartilage is good for the voice. It might help the raspy chords.
"I thought, The fans are helping now," Rivers said, recalling the moment. "That was great."
The fans are helping, the fans are listening closer now, and the fans are in the middle of the game more than ever in the growing league-wide trend of selling the courtside seats once deeded to the media. The customers get them now and then coaches and customers get each other, potential emotional combatants sharing elbow room.
"I just stand in front of 'em, so I don't care," Pistons coach Flip Saunders said with a laugh.
The latest move by teams to tap into new streams of income is estimated to be worth approximately $1 million per season, depending on how many revenue seats were added and at what price. No club was willing to disclose financial specifics, but the business operation of one said its relatively minor reconfiguration will deliver about $750,000 in tickets alone, not counting whatever additional take comes from pricey courtside delivery of food and drink and other luxury appeals. For the arenas that relocated a larger block of press row, sacrificing less-expensive seating areas, the windfall would be greater.
"The issue that happens is that a lot of times in some arenas is that you have your bench and then you have those (fans sitting between the benches and the scorer's table), so you're pushed farther down from your bench a lot," Saunders said. "That's why a lot of times I'm walking away (from the team), which some other coaches don't like. But part of it is where they put your bench in comparison to where the floor is."
League officials estimate that 80 percent of franchises have courtside seating that bumps up to the coaching staff, not counting the usual location of customers on the baseline with the chance to interact with players at the distant end of the bench. Of those two dozen or so organizations, most have reconfigured the front row in the past three to five years.
The "Nicholson Seats," some call the choice chairs in arenas – any arena. Jack has the digs in Staples Center and he had them when the Lakers played at the Forum through the 1998-99 season, so most associate him with the coveted spots. To others, they are "Hollywood Row," even far outside Hollywood, a nod to the level of clientele that could be in the place any given night.
The Kings are one of the few holdouts, keeping both benches against the traditional buffer of the scorer's table and allowing coaches to work without potential conflict. President John Thomas said the team has no plans to change.
Elsewhere, there have been no reported significant incidents among the arenas where fans and teams – including visiting teams – coexist in proximity. Of course, that all changes the first time some coach's Armani gets a beer bath.
"It might be a problem if you've got some arguments (between players/coaches) in your huddle that you don't want people to hear," Phoenix's Mike D'Antoni said. "But it doesn't really matter because that's the business. It's a business of entertainment and selling tickets and doing the best we can do. Those are the parameters, and they can make a lot of money on those tickets, so it's like, Work with it, deal with it and go on. I just don't think it's a problem."
Said Rivers: "You notice it at times. It depends on who's there and how many liquids they've had. It really does come down to that. When I first saw it, I didn't like it. My first thought was, Potential problem. Honestly, that hasn't happened. We have them sit right next to us. For me to get to the scorer's table, I have to walk by four fans sitting right next to our bench. In New Jersey, they look like they're in your huddle at times. The bottom line is, it's a fan's game. That's the way I look at it. That's what they're there for. I've been surprised. They've been very respectful so far."
Helpful even.
Shark cartilage, anyone?
"Maybe they'll draw up some plays for me sometimes if I ask them to," D'Antoni said. "They haven't done it yet, but maybe I'll get somebody that can give me a good play. I'll tell them, Right there's the board. Just give me something I can use."
Call The Bee's Scott Howard-Cooper at (916) 321-1210.
