Coach Watson always focusing on his goals

The morning after Devin Booker scored a franchise-record 70 points in Boston, Earl Watson awoke early and went to the airport to catch a 6 a.m. flight home. An uncle had died from cancer and the Suns coach wanted to be in Kansas City to comfort his dad at the funeral.

It wasn’t until Watson boarded the flight back to Charlotte that Booker’s performance started to register. “That really happened?” Watson thought. “Did Book really just score 70?’’

Watson, 37, doesn’t offer predictions on how good Booker can be. Whenever asked about the second-year guard, the coach constantly points out Booker’s age. He’s only 20. He’s just beginning. Truth is, Watson believes it’s up to Booker and how hard he works. That’s how good players become great.

During his playing days, mostly as a backup point guard, Watson

never had Booker’s talent. In 878 games covering 13 NBA seasons, he never scored more than 28 points in a game. Still, he found a way to survive. Every player has his process, and during a recent Suns’ road trip, in a series of conversations, the second-year Suns coach explained his to azcentral sports.

It started on his first day as a professional. A second-round draft pick of the Seattle SuperSonics, Watson arrived to training camp about 45 minutes early. Gary Payton, a future Hall of Famer, let Watson know that wasn’t acceptable.

“Gary was sitting in the weight room, talking, and I walked in,” Watson says. “I don’t even think he knew my name, but he cussed me out and told me basically that that s—t could never happen again. He said, ‘You need to be in here before I’m here.’ From that point on, I got to practice an hour-anda-half early, just to beat him.”

Watson applied the same approach to games. Instead of taking the team bus to the arena, he took a taxi. If the team was scheduled to leave at 4:30 p.m., he left at 4.

“Just to be the first one on the court,” says Watson, adding that the first time he took a team bus to the arena was as a coach, not a player. “I needed the court to myself because I knew the only way for me to stay in the league was to outwork people with more talent.”

Watson wanted to operate at 95 to 100 percent all game because he knew at some point, even those with more talent would tire and their performance would dip. They wouldn’t be as sharp with their decisions. That’s when Watson knew he had an edge.

“I think that’s how I got 13 years,” he says during a pregame shooting session in Atlanta. “It became so much a part of me, it just became my identity. Over time, I realized the greatest players I’ve played with, the superstars, the Hall of Famers, they had the same work ethic, but they also had talent. Those were the ones I couldn’t touch. I was like, ‘Damn, it’s going to be a rough night for me.’’’

Over the years, Watson became more like Payton, a mentor to younger players. During his final season in Portland, he would gather up C.J. McCollum, Thomas Robinson, Meyers Leonard, Will Barton and Allen Crabbe and head to the arena early. There, along with assistants David Vanterpool and Nate Tibbetts, they would play 4on-4 on the main court hours before tipoff.

Afterward, Watson brought them together. “I’d tell them, ‘Hey, the game doesn’t start when the game starts. The other team saw this and we’re already kicking their ass mentally. One day, as young players your time is going to come and you’re going to be so ready you’re going to be like a buzz saw.’”

Watson admits: Those experiences prepared him for where he is today, coaching a team that recently sent out the youngest starting five in NBA history.

The first part is grinding; the second is vision.

Even as a coach, Watson writes down goals. He separates them into categories of personal, fatherhood and professional and puts a box next to each so he can check it off once he accomplishes it. Watson then signs the list, dates it and tapes it to his bathroom mirror, so he can see it every morning and night when he brushes his teeth.

» Hike Camelback Mountain. (“When I first moved to Phoenix, I had never been hiking in my life,” Watson says.) Check.

» Start a school. (“I wrote that down when I was 25 and it didn’t happen until I was 33, but it happened,” he says.) Check.

» Build a church in his hometown. Not yet, Watson says, “but it’s going to happen.”

“Win championships, win divisions, win a certain amount of games,” he continues. “You have to be exact, so it says ‘Phoenix Suns championships.’ I have a number up there. It just always reminds you that no matter what happens, you have a destination. I wrote it, I signed it so it’s ownership. It’s real to me. You’re not just going to stumble into something.”

This is how Watson survived as a player. It’s how he plans to excel as a coach. He can’t make his players work like he did, but he can share the vision and hope that over time that same hunger becomes a part of their process.

“We will get there,” Watson says.