It's 5:45 p.m. on April 6, an off day for the Knicks, but New
York trainer Mike Saunders has his hands full in room 1618 of
the Ritz Carlton hotel in Buckhead, Ga., near Atlanta. "O.K.,
Anthony, now press hard!" Saunders tells New York guard Anthony
Bowie, who is squeezing a plierslike device called a hand
dynamometer to ease the tendinitis in his right wrist. "That's
it. Now again, only harder."
This is an article from the April 20, 1998 issue
As Saunders treats Bowie, guard Brooks Thompson lies facedown on
a sofa in the room watching TV, his aching lower back wired to
an electrical stimulator on the coffee table, and forward Ben
Davis sits reading a magazine as his sore left ankle soaks in a
tub of ice. Soon, center Patrick Ewing will drop in to continue
rehab on his dislocated right wrist. "I like to keep my door
open so guys can stop by when they want," says Saunders, 45. "I
haven't found a room yet with a revolving door."
For Saunders, who's in his 20th season with New York, it's a
fairly typical day on the road. After arriving in Atlanta at 2
a.m. on the team charter from Boston--where the Knicks had
suffered a 102-92 loss to the Celtics earlier that night--he
rose at nine to return phone messages, arranged a 1 p.m.
practice at the Georgia Dome (like most NBA trainers, Saunders
is also his team's traveling secretary), booked a conference
room in the hotel for a 3 p.m. team meeting and prepared for the
sore and weary bodies that would visit him until dinnertime.
During his informal office hours Saunders will tape ankles,
massage back muscles and oversee rehab sessions. Arrayed about
his room are plastic tubs, huge rolls of adhesive tape and extra
hotel towels. As usual, Saunders has ordered two 10-pound bags
of ice from room service. "We've got thousands of dollars' worth
of equipment," he says, "but ice is still the best tool."
Which isn't to say that Saunders doesn't appreciate technology.
Among his gadgets are an electrical stimulator the size of a
cigarette pack and a hand-wrist exerciser hooked to a laptop
computer programmed with video games. Thus Bowie can play video
soccer--maneuvering the goalkeeper with his sore wrist--to speed
his rehab. "We take a lot of equipment [on the road], because
anything can happen," says Saunders, who rents a minivan to haul
his gear. "The bellhops love to see us coming."
Saunders tries hard to maintain an upbeat atmosphere in his
room. He keeps magazines and computer games handy, orders lots
of in-room movies and gladly cedes control of the TV remote.
"Twenty years ago, guys watched cartoons," he says. "When I was
treating Charles Oakley for his knee pain earlier this year, we
watched the financial channel every day."
The players appreciate Saunders' attention to detail. "Mike's
the best trainer in the NBA," says Bowie, holding out his wrist
and twisting it freely. "Now if he could only get me some more