Zoc

Is this the end? Probably? Maybe? Possibly? The departure of Zeljko Obradovic from Partizan took on a life of its own. The most successful coach in European club basketball history, and one of the greatest in the history of the sport bar none, has stepped down. Emmet Ryan on a week, a life, and everything in between.

Not all break-ups make sense. Many people go through their lives and only have one relationship. Others have a few, maybe many, that end but all with rationales that are easy to explain to others. Then there are the ones that aren’t easy to make sense of.

There was the Irish wake, if wee Johnny was off to the new world a century ago he was as good as dead to his lover and his family. Soldiers in armies before modern times, think Imperial Russia, effectively had funerals when called up. They were alive but the relationship was dead.

Before Ireland had divorce, one half of the married couple emigrating ‘for work’ was the easy alternative. Even those make infinitely more sense than some. You’ve probably got to live through a weird one to truly understand how they go or why they happen.

Remember Tuesday? On Tuesday we were still joking that Ettore Messina tendered his resignation to himself. Had I told you then the story would be forgotten within hours you’d have thought the meteor was about to hit.

What about Thursday? There’s a better than even chance you forgot that Igor Kokoskov and Anadolu Efes parted ways then. That is what’s on the table.

On the one hand, a coach who was beloved by Kobe and Popovich and won 4 Euroleague titles along with 36 other major honours as a coach. On the other, the great rarity of a European who was head coach in the NBA, won EuroBasket, and was about as well-known as it gets with fans.

Messina, in any other time, would have dominated the week in basketball coverage. Kokoskov, well he’d have certainly gotten 48 hours. Combined? That’s more than enough in any basketball week. At least in any other basketball week.

The news first hit on Wednesday. It changed on Thursday. The crowd arrived on Friday. On Saturday it ended. Zeljko Obradovic has resigned as head coach of Košarkaški klub Partizan. At 65, arguably the most successful coach in the history of the sport stepped away from basketball.

So about this week

Well, that was weird. Partizan haven’t exactly been good this season. A 4-9 start to Euroleague, with three straight ugly losses, preceded the announcement. Dropping a game badly away to Asvel was bad. Losing at home by 12 to Fenerbahce was poor but acceptable. Following both of those up with a limp effort in a 22 point defeat away to Panathinaikos was something else.

That something else triggered what Zeljko Obradovic insisted was an irrevocable decision. The resignation shocked the sport and then things got really weird. As player tributes flowed, the mood shifted. An emergency meeting of Partizan’s board was called on Thursday where they refused to accept the resignation. That decision came amid fan outcry that was about to get wilder.

Hours before the flight back from Athens landed at Nikola Tesla airport, thousands of Partizan fans gathered. The love, the desperation, the need to not let go was all on show. What exactly was going to happen?

All throughout I had Partizan fans, friends who coach, and others weighing in with their two cents. For the life of me I didn’t have the certainty they almost all had that he was sure to stay. Then, of course, he was gone.

This is one of those moments. You don’t know what the future will look like but you know it’s going to be different. This wasn’t Zeljko Obradovic leaving Fenerbahce or Panathinaikos. This was Zoc leaving Partizan, the club of his blood, the only team he ever came back to. This changes something in sport.

It just happened

He was meant to be captaining Yugoslavia at EuroBasket. It was the summer of 1991 and the man from Cacak got the call, aged 31, from Partizan that they wanted him to retire as a player and become head coach immediately. By any reasonable measure, that was stupid.

These weren’t reasonable times. Yugoslavia was at the start of the process of not being Yugoslavia. Granted, he had Aleksandar Nikolic in his ear when needed but it was all on him. Obradovic had to switch from being a floor general to running things from the bench. All he did was win.

Partizan’s European home games were played in Fuenlabrada but the neutral site mattered not. By the end of that campaign, Obradovic had won a treble. The Yugoslav league and cup along with the, as it was called then, FIBA European League. Maybe it was the need to get on while surrounded by an impossible situation. Perhaps it was the blind belief that comes with trying something for the first time. Heck, maybe it’s because at 31 you reckon you are a grown-up and it takes another decade to realise you’re not. Whatever it was, for all the chaos around him, Zeljko Obradovic found clarity in controlling what he could.

The 1990s were a hell of a drug

Granted, we all think our teenage years were fascinating but it’s what I didn’t get to see that has me in a loop. I’m 44 now and was almost 30 when I began to truly get what Zeljko Obradovic did then.

Partizan, and pretty much every other sports team from what is now Serbia, was excluded from European competition because of the war. Obradovic hit the road. So in the summer of 1993 he rocked up in Catalunya and led Joventut Badalona to the FIBA European League title the following spring.

He’d lift that title again the following year but with a new employer, this time it was Real Madrid. Los Blancos ended a wait dating back to 1980 for that crown. He’d pick up a Copa del Rey and Saporta Cup (think Europa League in football) while there too before eventually hitting the road in the summer of 1997.

That brought him to Treviso, where he brought them to the FIBA Euroleague (names change a lot) Final Four in his first season and a Saporta Cup title in his second and last.

By now the template was clear. He was a gun for hire. You bring in Zeljko Obradovic, you have a memorable season, maybe two or three, and he moves on. Man was in his 30s and was speed running European basketball coaching. We’ll get back to the meat of the 1990s later but the important bit comes next.

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The dynasty

The numbers sound almost fake. In 13 seasons with Panathinaikos, Zeljko Obradovic won 23 trophies (excluding super cups) and was champion of Europe on five different occasions. They don’t begin to do his legacy justice.

Make no mistake, the Greens were very clear about what they wanted. They’d spent big in the middle of the 1990s, most notably acquiring Dominique Wilkins, to be crowned champions of Europe. They were bringing in Obradovic to get them a second title.

This was a club that was hiring the 39 year old to bring them to that next level. He did so immediately, winning both the Greek and FIBA Euroleague titles. Only AEK denied him a treble, beating his Panathinaikos side in the Greek Cup Final.

Then came the split and PAO chose the FIBA side. Obradovic brought them to the FIBA Suproleague final, losing that. It was his first loss in a European final. He wouldn’t experience another for 15 years.

The following year was his nadir in Greece, Panathinaikos didn’t make the finals. So Obradovic made up for it by winning Euroleague. His fourth crown under a third title and, of course, it was already with three different clubs. The script said it was time for a refresh.

This time he was staying put. The relationship Obradovic built with the Giannakopoulos family changed the very culture of Panathinaikos. The OAKA became the cauldron we all know today. Despite having the most dominant force in European basketball, he was able to develop a siege mentality within Panathinaikos.

He would pivot through focusing on Dejan Bodiroga, through Vassilis Spanoulius, Dimitris Diamantidis, making Mike Batiste look under or oversized depending on what the moment required. Everything with the absolute fire of a madman when it went wrong but cool discipline somehow seeping through all the time.

The dude just won. Even in his last season with the Greens, as the old guard finally began to crack, he almost did it again. He brought a loaded CSKA Moscow team to the final possession in Istanbul. That Olympiacos would lift the crown a couple of days later didn’t matter. He’d built something that would echo for the ages.

The thing is

Michael Aspel could have appeared with the red book for Obradovic before he even got to Athens but it was there that he understood the cost of winning. Being the boss involves sacrifice, not just of yourself but of what you need to ask of those around you.

Players largely loved Zeljko Obradovic. How could they not, for all the rage on the sideline they won with him and knew he had won before they met him. Someone had to be the bad guy and that usually fell upon an assistant. It was a brutal form of delegation that was necessary to success. Zoc had to focus on winning and he couldn’t be both friend and antagonist to players.

That may sound like he took the easy route but far from it. Being the one to do the front facing bad stuff is easier than being the one who has to ask it of another, there’s an emotional cost to that. He had to take that on because he needed to spend his energy elsewhere.

When a NCAA coach gets angry on the sidelines, aside from looking like a man-baby, they are clearly focused on a youthful cohort. Obradovic was dealing with grown men. When he got angry, even from the safety of a computer screen a few thousand kilometres away I feared for my ancestors. How could I find Bo Ryan intimidating on screen when I’d seen Zoc look ready to go back in time and make sure my grandparents had never been born.

In, of all things, a made-for-Euroleague documentary about basketball in Istanbul I recall the face of Obradovic. At dinner with some other greats, the fatigue of the effort involved. He was comfortable but didn’t yap, as one does for these types of productions. Saying basketball is who he is would be too generic.

Being the best, the smartest, the most dynamic, the canniest, coach is what Zeljko Obradovic needs to be. It must be everything for him. Give him the players and he’d make do. That was all it took and that was all-consuming.

About the 1990s

It was 30 June 1997. Croatia led Yugoslavia, a very different Yugoslavia to the one Obradovic was meant to captain in 1991, 61-59 with seconds to play and Aleksandar Đorđević put up a three.

Yugoslavia won and my love affair with European basketball was cemented. I had absolutely no idea who Zeljko Obradovic was and wouldn’t for quite a few years. A few minutes prior I didn’t know who Aleksandar Đorđević was, but I was hooked.

That Yugoslavia team under Obradovic would win EuroBasket a week later. A year prior he’d won silver in the Olympics as head coach. In 1998, he’d win gold in the FIBA World Championship. There’d be bronze at EuroBasket the following year. Four years as head coach, four medals, all colours collected. Then poof. The 1990s man, they were just different.

Granted he came back briefly in the mid 2000s but, unlike his club phase, that stint with Serbia & Montenegro is more like most of the noughties and best forgotten.

The hire

Partizan were in crisis. Badalona was a matter of circumstance. Real, Treviso, and Panathinaikos all wanted to step up a level. Fenerbahce needed something else. They needed to break a mental barrier.

Simone Piangiani’s arrival in 2012 was meant to be it. During the one season that Obradovic stepped away from the sport, the Italian was in Istanbul and expected to bring Fener into the conversation amongst Europe’s elite. It’s ludicrous to think now, but we’re barely a decade removed from ‘knowing’ that Turkish clubs couldn’t make it to the very top table.

They were too chaotic. The first season certainly didn’t dispel those thoughts. Fenerbahce went out in the Top 16 stage, their regular ceiling, and won the Turkish championship after Galatasaray forfeited what was meant to be a decisive Game 7. There was a mental barrier that needed to be overcome.

The obvious thing to point to is the series win in 2015. A 3-0 sweep of defending Euroleague champions Maccabi Tel Aviv. For me it was a free throw. Oguz Savas getting on the scoreboard in a Euroleague Final Four game felt like Fenerbahce had arrived.

Obradovic clearly disagreed as, after a disappointing first trip to the showpiece weekend, there was a substantial roster overhaul. Just give him the players had limits, they had to be the right players.

This was a project and he was progressing. A year later, they’d make the Euroleague championship game and were an absolute joke in the first half. The third quarter wasn’t much of an improvement. Somehow, someway, Fenerbahce rallied under Zoc’s fury and forced overtime before eventually succumbing to CSKA Moscow.

Brick by brick, step by step. A year later, in Istanbul, the confetti rained and Pero Antic gave Gigi Datome a haircut as Fenerbahce finally celebrated a maiden Euroleague crown. A ninth for Obradovic. Luka Doncic and Real Madrid would deny him a 10th a year later but, by now, another pattern was emerging. After a fifth straight Final Four with Fener a year later, he stepped down again.

With Covid cancelling the next season, Obradovic felt it was time to move again. Even when he was loved and stayed a long time, Zoc always found a way to make sure he didn’t overstay his welcome.

The return

Taking on a new challenge at 61 is bold. Everything about Zeljko Obradovic coming back to Partizan in the summer of 2021 felt like the last ride. No matter what happened, this would be his final run. None of us could have predicted quite the level of drama that it entailed.

It also involved an adjustment. Obradovic wasn’t back in Euroleague, at least not yet. Despite rampaging through the regular season of Eurocup, his Partizan fell to Bursaspor in the round of 16. No matter, they’d still be in Euroleague the following campaign, despite falling to Crvena Zvezda in the ABA League finals.

With his side about to claim a 2-0 lead in a best-of-5 series against Real Madrid, the defining moment of the era would come. An all out brawl, featuring a Guerschon Yabusele suplex of Partisan’s Dante Exum, clouded the win. Despite his side getting the W on the night and bringing the series back home, something was lost. Real would take the series and later the championship.

Failing to make the postseason in 2024 led to an enormous refresh. Partizan overhauled the roster enormously for Zoc’s fourth season back. He’d won Euroleague, well the FIBA European League, amidst far greater turmoil and here was the brand spanking new roster.

Things, once again, didn’t go to plan and now he was 65. Yet, if anything, the love for him grew. A packed Stark Arena for every home game in Euroleague, Obradovic greeting a child on the way out and unbridled love and devotion from the Grobari.

Whereas the first two seasons back had seen Obradovic’s side punch above its budget, now it was spending big and not getting it done. This campaign was meant to right that yet, as it came to a dramatic head in late November, it merely accelerated the end.

That he, at least on the face of it, got to finish where he started is sweet. While it didn’t end in victory, it ended on his terms. Yet everything about this still feels so weird.

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Trust in fear

One of the reasons Zeljko Obradovic’s assistants often had to be the bad guys, so to speak, was because of the sheer volume of detail. It was on them to ensure the often brutal and focused training sessions channeled players into being the best versions of themselves.

That’s why when Mathias Lessort or Ioannias Papapetrou spoke with love of how Zoc changed them, it felt sincere. They could find out more about themselves as players in one season under Obradovic and his staff than they might in the rest of their careers combined.

The rants in timeouts went viral but that was just a glimpse of the impact. Throughout his career, Obradovic adapted. The ‘just give him the players’ approach wasn’t arrogance, it was accepting that he knew he’d need to find what worked and that there was more than one way to do that tactically.

His creators were often extensions of himself but Kostas Sloukas and Dimitris Diamantidis, while both of similar mental resolve, were wildly different players. Obradovic didn’t try to fit square pegs into round holes, and for all his fire he’d regularly be protective of his players in public and blame himself even when it was hard for the external observer to find issue with his decisions.

A presence

Considering his near ever-presence at the top of the sport on the continent for 35 years, Zeljko Obradovic is surprisingly easy to cover as a journalist. What he did right and wrong in a game at least seemed clear to the naked eye. When he surprised you mid-game with an adjustment, you could quickly see how he’d waited to strike.

In essence, his approach to basketball was easy to understand as his decisions explained themselves to the viewer over 40 minutes. That did a great deal to make him feel less like a myth, as is so easy with leaders in sport, and more what he is: an exceptionally capable man.

That humanity also made him relatable to the Grobari. He was one of theirs, always, and they never want to let him go even when he insists. Whenever he returned to Athens or Istanbul, and he’s done both a lot, as head coach he’d be warmly received by PAO and Fener fans.

Yet, for all the love he gets far and wide and all the trophies, there’s one place that needs to wake up and welcome him.

Seriously Springfield?

The sheer volume of achievements is ludicrous. Be it with Yugoslavia, Partizan, Real Madrid, Joventut Badalona, or Fenerbahce he found a way to win and win big. His sin seems to have been not being American. Which would be fine except it’s not the NBA or US Basketball Hall of Fame, it’s the Basketball Hall of Fame.

Zeljko Obradovic is far from the only case here, Dusan Ivkovic should have been inducted a long time ago. Somehow this achievement at the top of the sport gets diminished below college coaches. It’s ludicrous. Even without diminishing those who have been elected ahead of Obradovic, the purpose of a Hall of Fame is to tell the story of a sport.

Basketball is a global sport and has become increasingly so in recent decades. You can’t tell that story without multiple chapters dedicated to Zeljko Obradovic. He shouldn’t have to rely on the international slot, he should just walk in the front door.

So is it the final chapter?

Given how much we were surprised by the twists and turns of the past few days, never say never. The right offer could well pique his interest and Zeljko Obradovic doesn’t seem like one to stand on ceremony. Just because the narrative of him ending back where he started is easy to write it doesn’t mean he has to pay a blind bit of notice.

He’s taken a sabbatical before and could well do so again. Yet, he is 65. It’s got to be something truly special to get him to even consider biting. That being said, he has clearly never lost his sense of the moment.

For all the efforts to make him backtrack this week, Zoc stuck to his instincts. If he comes across something that he could really get his teeth into, he could well surprise us all yet. I doubt it but I just write about basketball, I’ll never know it like Zeljko Obradovic.

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