ESPN - Dream Role - E-ticket
Nakase has spent the past few years coaching professional basketball overseas -- coaching men who tower over her -- and the 32-year-old California native earns a living in the offseason by training kids and college players. She doesn't have to be here today, submitting to this torture with Watson, a veteran NBA point guard, and Knight, a shooting guard who plays abroad. But all three friends are chasing something, an intangible edge that comes with pushing the limits.
In September, Nakase began a yearlong internship with the Los Angeles Clippers. She works for the team's video coordinator, in the same kind of NBA entry-level position once held by Miami Heat coach Erik Spoelstra, Los Angeles Lakers coach Mike Brown and Portland Trail Blazers assistant Kaleb Canales. (There has been only one woman in NBA history to work as a video coordinator: Trish McGhee, who was laid off by the Memphis Grizzlies because of the lockout of 2011.)
Natalie Nakase wants to be the first female coach in the NBA. And when you're trying to do something never before done, you must first understand all of the reasons you might not succeed.
The NBA possesses more of a herdlike mentality than it cares to admit. Just look at the analytics revolution that is sweeping the league. A few teams -- the Boston Celtics, Dallas Mavericks and Oklahoma City Thunder -- had success making decisions based on new statistical formulas, and the rest are now scurrying to catch up, hiring their own numbers guys.
Daryl Morey Houston Rocket GM: All NBA teams want to be ahead of the curve, but few can afford the risk. It's always easier when you have one example to point to, so when you take that idea to your owner, you can say, 'See, it worked here.' Nobody wants to be the first." This mentality is one reason women aren't being hired as NBA coaches -- because no team has done it yet. The league loves to recycle, with teams routinely installing coaches and general managers who've been hired and fired multiple times. But I find it hard to believe that all of the best and smartest thinkers in basketball just happen to share the same chromosome.