In the past couple of weeks, the NBA has lost Jeff Van Gundy to More-Time-With-My-Family, Dave Cowens to You-Are-Spending-More-Time-With-Your-Family-And-That's-An-Order, Dan Issel to Even-The-Manson-Family-Is-Better-Than-This, and Tim Floyd to Do-You-Think-My-Family-Will-Ever-Forgive-Me?

	Tim Floyd quit the Bulls a few days before Dan Issel officially left the Nuggets.

This coachly turnover threatens the record set in any given year by the National Hockey League, whose own coaches are always day-to-day, even after they win the Stanley Cup. We're not sure why this is, but apparently general managers don't know any more about the sport than television executives, because every time a team hits as much as a skidlet, the coach gets fired.

Of course, it may be because the coach makes about one-third as much as most backup goalies, but we try not to dwell on such matters, especially since no hockey coach has been fired in, what is it now, 10 days?

But Floyd's resignation in Chicago on Christmas Eve ("The Baby Jesus may be coming, but I'm leaving"), following Issel's request for a leave of absence while he considers life as a Wal-Mart greeter reminds us that the NBA is thin on ideas for teams running on funk. Issel is the the fourth as of Wednesday, all before New Year's Day.

This leaves 25 others, and most of them are working on borrowed time.

Now, we did not consult the rumor mill, NBA insiders, well-connected sources or people in the know, because we have learned over the years that they are usually aliases for "Me, at the kitchen table, in my underwear, with a copy of the NBA Register beneath my toast."

No, we're just going on gut, semi-educated guesses and the knowledge that imitation is the sincerest form of running a sports team. Nobody, after all, wants to be the last on his block to send his coaching skidding off the porch, hinder first. Especially since basketball knowledge and communication skills often have nothing to do with it.

LON KRUGER, Atlanta: Because you weren't sure right away who coaches the Hawks, Kruger must be considered on wobbly ground, despite a fat contract and the utter disinterest of the rest of the NBA.

JIM O'BRIEN, Boston: He's no Red Auerbach, or in truth another Tom Heinsohn or K.C. Jones. Then again, he started from so much further back, succeeding the tire fire that was the Rick Pitino Era, he is in clover -- four leaf, in fact.

PAUL SILAS, Charlotte: Since the Hornets are so desperate to leave town that they are giving away porn star calendars on Kids Night, Silas has all the cover he needs to survive awhile longer. That is, unless George Shinn runs out of alternate ruses.

BILL BERRY, Chicago: This is what happens when you're the last guy out the door when the boss calls a staff meeting.

JOHN LUCAS, Cleveland: Just the latest in a string of impossible jobs, made all the worse by the gentle whispering that the Gunds may want to get out of sports management altogether. Proof yet again that Life in 11th place is exactly what it's cracked up to be.

DON NELSON, Dallas: This is what it was like in Milwaukee, when his judgments were always sound and he knew how to lead the parade rather than impede it. Plus, anyone who wants to hate the Mavs for no good reason already has Mark Cuban.

MIKE EVANS, Denver: About to become the interim sucker ... er, sap ... er, boob ... er, victim ... er, roadkill ... er, um, uhh ...

RICK CARLISLE, Detroit: The Pistons just hit their first wall, which will give us a look at Carlisle In Crisis. The up side is that he's in the East, where everyone north of Miami has delusions.

BRIAN WINTERS, Golden State: No team has changed more coaches in the last six years, and for a very good reason. He's been handed a highway flare and asked to breathe in deeply, while all the while the locals ache for the basset-houndish Van Gundy.

RUDY TOMJANOVICH, Houston: Those 15-game losing streaks never go down easy, but Rudy has two rings to keep his fingers warm at night. That buys a little bit of shut-the-hell-up, even in times like this.

ISIAH THOMAS, Indiana: He's held the job longer than some people thought and kept his attention on the job longer than everyone thought.

ALVIN GENTRY, Los Angeles Clippers: He keeps the job all the way until he goes in and asks Donald Sterling for a raise.

PHIL JACKSON, Los Angeles Lakers: Just waiting for the call from the Pope.

SIDNEY LOWE, Memphis: The Grizz have sold out about four games in their new city, and somebody's going to have to pay. Over to you, Sid.

PAT RILEY, Miami: He says he's staying, unwilling to go out while flat on his face. The choice is his, but he may choose differently if circumstances remain as they are.

GEORGE KARL, Milwaukee: The original day-to-day coach, although he seems more flexible than even as recently as two years ago, when he was more likely to snap than a sun-dried rubber band.

FLIP SAUNDERS, Minnesota: Let's see ... the Twins are threatened with administrative extinction, the Vikings are in full barrel-roll, and Jacques Lemaire is, well, Jacques Lemaire. It's good to be the king when there are no available princes.

BYRON SCOTT, New Jersey: There's something inspirational about a "player's coach" who isn't afraid to call the employees on their behavior when required.

DON CHANEY, New York: He would never have gotten the job had he not been around when it came open. Then again, the same was said of Van Gundy, and he became a Manhattan cult hero by beating the reaper. Tactics are everything.

DOC RIVERS, Orlando: Said hello to Grant Hill in the hallway the other day, if that's any consolation.

LARRY BROWN, Philadelphia: Also day-to-day-to-day-to-day. Just depends on what side of the web he wakes up on any given day.

SCOTT SKILES, Phoenix: Jerry Colangelo can look at his World Series ring receipt all winter, but eventually he's going to notice that his first love is looking a bit tatty.

MAURICE CHEEKS, Portland: A shot of nitroglycerin with a beer back -- the first Blazer coach to entertain empty seats in years -- the playoffs in jeopardy -- do the words "deserved better" start ringing a responsive chord?

RICK ADELMAN, Sacramento: The team did better without Chris Webber than with him, but nobody's fooled. This is Adelman's kind of team, and the suspicion grows that it may only be Adelman's kind of team. Good for job security.

GREGG POPOVICH, San Antonio: Cheer up, laughing boy. You could be ...

NATE MCMILLAN, Seattle: Gary Payton will not be put out to stud, but ridden hard until he drops. And when he does, so do the rest of the Sonics.

LENNY WILKENS, Toronto: Celebrating 116 years in the industry by being nobody's fool, nobody's patsy and nobody's enemy. A life's lesson for all of us in this holiday season.

JERRY SLOAN, Utah: The ride is slowing to a halt, but Jerry remains Jerry in a city where being Jerry is about as good as it gets. Bonus points for not being connected in any material way to the budding disaster of the Olympics.

MICHAEL JORDAN, Washington: ... with Doug Collins as Mister French.

That's 11 safe-for-lifes, five safe-for-nows, and nine families about to see a whole lot more of Dad, whether they like it or not.

Oh my God. It is hockey.

Ray Ratto of the San Francisco Chronicle is a regular contributor to ESPN.com.