Dawson never expected such a fierce reaction from Van Gundy. With a forced smile, he waved his hand and said, "Jeff, you know I didn't mean it that way. We've worked together for over three years with the Rockets. You should know that I just want you to consider Andrew's advice."
But Van Gundy wasn't having it. He couldn't wrap his head around the idea of a head coach with no offensive control or say in rotations. At this point, was he even still the head coach? He might as well have been an assistant. Andrew, after all, was the assistant coach, and now it seemed like more authority was being shifted his way.
Van Gundy had coached in the NBA for 17 years, 11 of those as a head coach, and never had he encountered a situation like this.
"I'll resign tomorrow," Van Gundy continued, resolute.
Dawson's smile vanished. The old man was really sticking to his guns.
"Jeff, there's no need to escalate this. It's just a minor thing," Dawson tried to reason.
But Van Gundy stayed silent. His face was set in stone, anger simmering beneath the surface.
"Jeff?" Dawson's tone shifted, irritation creeping in as he realized Van Gundy wasn't backing down.
This was too much. Dawson, a seasoned Rockets veteran himself, had lowered his stance, but Van Gundy refused to budge.
"Well, if you insist," Dawson finally conceded.
Van Gundy froze, not expecting Dawson to give up so easily. He had hoped for a retreat, for Dawson to reconsider. But this was it. Dawson wasn't budging either.
Without another word, Van Gundy rose from his seat and left the office.
"Damn!" Dawson swore, slamming his fist on the table as soon as Van Gundy was out of earshot.
The old man was more stubborn than a mule.
Meanwhile, the Rockets were preparing for their next game against the New Jersey Nets. Andrew and the other assistants were busy in the conference room, strategizing.
Halfway through the meeting, Andrew noticed Van Gundy was still absent. He leaned toward Thibodeau and asked, "Have you seen Jeff?"
Thibodeau shook his head.
At that moment, the door creaked open, and a staff member walked in. "Andrew, Mr. Dawson wants to see you."
Andrew stood up, confused. He followed the staff member to Dawson's office. As he stepped inside, he noticed the dark expression on Dawson's face.
"Mr. Dawson? You needed me?" Andrew asked, still puzzled.
"Yes, have a seat," Dawson said, his voice heavy with frustration.
"Listen, Jeff can't make it to New Jersey for the next game due to some personal matters. You'll be stepping in as the interim head coach." Dawson rubbed his temples, looking more exhausted than Andrew had ever seen him.
"Interim head coach?" Andrew blinked in surprise. What on earth was going on with Van Gundy?
"It's nothing serious," Dawson added quickly, sensing Andrew's unease. "Just some personal stuff."
Andrew nodded, but something didn't sit right. The tension in the room was palpable, and Dawson's demeanor told a different story. Nevertheless, there was no time to pry.
"Prepare well," Dawson called after Andrew as he headed toward the door.
That extra word of encouragement left Andrew feeling even more suspicious, but Dawson wasn't offering any more information. So Andrew nodded, took a deep breath, and left the office.
On his way back to the conference room, his mind raced. Whatever was happening with Van Gundy, this was an opportunity for Andrew.
The Nets were a solid team, but if Andrew could implement a new rotation and snag a win, it would force Van Gundy to reconsider his stubborn stance. Maybe when he returned, he would finally acknowledge Andrew's suggestions.
A sly grin crossed Andrew's face as the plan formed in his head.
Back in the conference room, Andrew briefed the team on Van Gundy's absence and took the reins. With a confident energy, he scrapped the previous tactical plans and laid out an entirely new rotation.
Thibodeau and the rest of the coaching staff didn't argue. The recent losses had left everyone tense, and a shake-up was needed.
After finalizing the new game plan, Andrew called in Novak and Spanoulis separately. The two players looked apprehensive as they entered his office, particularly Spanoulis, who was convinced he was about to be traded.
Andrew wasted no time, cutting to the chase: "You'll both be getting significant minutes in the next game."
Their eyes widened in shock. Spanoulis, who had been languishing on the bench all season, looked like a man who had just won the lottery. Novak's usual calm demeanor cracked into one of barely-contained excitement.
Seeing their reactions, Andrew couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction. These guys were hungry, and they would be eager to prove themselves. It was exactly the fire he needed to ignite the team.
After talking to the two, Andrew sought out Juwan Howard. Despite being a veteran All-Star, Howard had recently struggled, and Andrew knew a conversation was necessary.
To his surprise, when Andrew informed him he'd be coming off the bench in the next game, Howard didn't argue. He nodded quietly, showing a rare humility that spoke volumes. The veteran was tired of losing just as much as the younger guys were.
Everything was falling into place better than Andrew had expected.
With training wrapped up, Andrew led the team onto the plane to New Jersey.
In the summer of 2004, the NBA had been shaken by two blockbuster trades. One sent Tracy McGrady from Orlando to Houston, and the other had Vince Carter moving from Toronto to the New Jersey Nets. Now, Carter, along with Jason Kidd and Richard Jefferson, formed one of the most feared trios in the league—the "New Jersey Trident."
Facing such a powerhouse wasn't the ideal moment to experiment with a new rotation, but Andrew had no choice. This was his shot, and if he pulled it off, it would make a statement.
The team landed at Newark Airport, and Andrew wasted no time, organizing an early morning practice. The training focused on the fresh rotations Andrew had introduced, and while he didn't spell it out, the players began to realize changes were in the works.
The mood shifted. Excitement buzzed through the air. The possibility of new roles, the idea that even the bench players had a shot at more minutes—it lit a fire under the team.
By the end of practice, the team morale had improved drastically. Players who had seemed sluggish and disheartened were now brimming with energy.
That night, as the Rockets stepped onto the court at Continental Airlines Arena to face the Nets, Andrew felt a quiet confidence wash over him.
This was his moment.