You sorta know when a guy nicknamed “Stinky” does you a favor … well, to wind up with roses, you might have to start with manure.

Johnny “Red” Kerr wanted to be coach basketball. And he had pretty good credentials for the job. During three years at the University of Illinois, he’d scored 1,299 points to help the Fighting Illini win a Big 10 Championship. As a pro rookie, he’d helped the Syracuse Nationals win an NBA Championship. And as vice president of the ABA’s Virginia Squires, he’d demonstrated an eye for judging talent by taking a chance on then-unknown Julius Erving.

But as writer Marty Farmer recounted on the Chicago Bulls Web site, what Red really needed to make his career grow was a lot of support—and a little manure—from his old pal Stinky Fryer.

After Chicago’s three previous attempts to launch basketball franchises failed, Stinky decided Red Kerr was the missing ingredient for success. So in 1966, when he learned of efforts to find a basketball coach for the NBA’s new Chicago Bulls, Stinky began circulating a petition. He drummed up 1,600 signatures from basketball fans promising they’d buy season tickets if and only if the Bulls hired Red as their first head coach. Okay, so a lot of the signatures were really Stinky’s, but he knew Red would set the town on fire, figuratively speaking. And the Bulls’ owners knew the value of an occupied seat. Red got the job, convinced he could turn the expansion team into a winner. All he had to do was convince his players. Like his buddy, Stinky, he figured a little confidence would go a long way.

Positive thinking

“Pretend you’re the greatest defensive rebounder in the NBA,” Red told Jimmy Washington. “You’re the best point guard ever,” he counseled Guy Rodgers. “You’re the NBA’s top center,” he promised rookie Erwin Mueller. The strategy was repeated with every player. Believe you’re the best. Know you’re the best. And you will be the best.

But the Bulls were playing the Bill Russell–led Boston Celtics. And the Celtics didn’t have to pretend. They beat the Bulls by 17.

“Hey, coach,” Mueller called as a dejected Kerr left the court. “Just pretend we won.”

But Red Kerr didn’t give up so easily. He continued to believe, despite that crushing defeat. And by season’s end, the rose had found its way through the manure. The expansion-team Bulls made the playoffs, Red was named Coach of the Year, and Chicago had a basketball franchise that would last.