Gregg Popovich built one of the greatest dynasties in NBA history, but his coaching style wasn’t for everyone. Over 27+ years with the Spurs, he created a culture where discipline and structure ruled supreme. Players like Tim Duncan and Tony Parker thrived in this system. Even Manu Ginóbili, whose creative flair became legendary, had to earn his freedom. This no-nonsense approach of the military-minded man delivered five championships and 22 straight playoff appearances. But this rigidity also frustrated some players and ended up in disagreements.

Time may smooth over most disagreements, but maybe not the one between Robert Horry and Gregg Popovich. Years after their Spurs championship runs together, Horry kept it real: “I don’t think Pop would ever speak to me again. I don’t think Pop likes me.” He pinned it on his unfiltered honesty, admitting, “I think Pop doesn’t like me because I speak my mind. A lot of people get rubbed the wrong way about that.” It’s a raw statement from a guy who hit clutch shots for Pop’s teams. But let’s be clear, this isn’t some dramatic falling-out. However, it doesn’t change the fact that Pop isn’t Horry’s coaching favorite. Who is it then? The interviewer on Ringer NBA asked Robert Horry, “Who’s the greater of the two?” 

You might wonder who the coach is whose genius ties with that of Popovich. Horry said, without any hesitation, “I would go with Phil.” To this answer, the interviewer gave a big smiling nod, as if he already knew Horry would pick Phil Jackson because of his severed ties with coach Pop. Horry, however, went on to clarify things a bit. He said, “And it’s so weird when you do this and say you take one over the other. It’s like you’re slapping the other one in the face, but I’m not.” Robert Horry reinforced that he wasn’t in the mood to disrespect Pop at all.

He said, “Pop is a great coach.” His position to have a stance was also well justified. “The only reason I would pick Phil is because I played seven years under Phil, well, five years under Phil, and I played five years under Pop. So I got a good gauge.” What was the actual reason, though? Not anything bitter. He had only the most respectful answers. He said, “What I knew about Phil at the time I played for him was he would let you bend the rules. And as a player, you have to have the ability to bend the rules. Because everything isn’t going to be A, B, C, and D.” So that is what he preferred about coach Phil. A bit of delegated authority, to tweak the rules and do it the Horry way. This is what led to Coach Pop tumbling down to second place. “Pop was not a guy who would let you bend the rules.”

Robert Horry’s quick to highlight Popovich’s genuine side makes it clear. “Pop would come and talk to you. Take you to dinner, buy you a glass of wine,” he recalled, almost fondly. “Pop would really try to get to know you.” What are you seeing here? Two stubborn minds who respect each other but just never quite meshed. The titles they won together still matter, even if the small talk doesn’t happen anymore.

Any which way, both the coaches had their own styles, which led to Horry becoming a rare player who thrived under both control and chaos. Phil gave him freedom, Pop gave him structure. Horry could carve out championships in both.

Beyond Gregg Popovich, Horry’s clash with another coach

The tension between Robert Horry and Danny Ainge wasn’t just another player-coach spat. It was a slow-burning grudge that exploded in a heated moment. It all started years earlier, when Ainge, then a player for the Suns, intentionally drilled Mario Elie in the face with a ball during a heated game. Horry, then with Houston, never forgot it. But the real drama began when Ainge became an assistant coach in Phoenix and reportedly admitted to Horry, “I know I hit Mario in the face on purpose.”

That confession lit the fuse. Horry clashed with Ainge’s abrasive style, especially after a brutal 40-point loss to Chicago. When Horry questioned the team’s defensive effort, Ainge shot back, “Defense? You’re the worst defensive player on the team.” For a 7-time champ who prided himself on versatility, a player ever to notch 100 steals, blocks, and threes in a season, the insult cut deep. Horry’s response? “F you.”

The feud reached its boiling point during a Suns-Celtics game. After Horry strung together three stellar plays. A steal, a dunk, and another highlight. But unexpectedly, Ainge yanked him for Danny Manning. Horry, baffled, protested, “Dude, I’m playing good.” Ainge’s reply? “Go sit your ass down at the end of the bench.” That was the last straw. Horry snapped, he threw a towel in Ainge’s face, and stormed off. “I threw the towel in his face and walked down early to the bench,” Horry recalled, still simmering decades later.

Later, for Horry, the trade to the Lakers was a liberation. He didn’t even ask for details, just packed his car and drove to L.A., relieved to escape Ainge’s shadow. The irony? Both men became legends in their own right: Horry as the ultimate clutch role player, Ainge as a ruthless executive. But their fallout underscores a recurring theme in Ainge’s career. His willingness to burn bridges in pursuit of control. Whether as a player, coach, or GM, Ainge’s bluntness has left scars. And as Utah fans now question his direction, Horry’s story serves as a cautionary tale: Danny Ainge’s brilliance often comes with collateral damage.