He has the familiar last name and the old coaching notes and the memories, and best of all, he has had this season.

	Bill Musselman, here with the Cavaliers in 1981, coached for 29 years.

The Trail Blazers have seen to it.

The Timberwolves, too.

Even the referees. Especially the referees.

Eric Musselman was supposed to be coaching for the first time without his father around, then found something quite to the contrary. He can't help but be conflicted as an assistant with the Atlanta Hawks, because it was difficult to have to walk his sister down the aisle at her wedding on the first Saturday of training camp, and because of what happened at practice a couple months later. Not that anyone would have expected his dad to go quietly.

Bill Musselman was his father. Bill Musselman was also the first coach of the expansion Minnesota Timberwolves and also the head man for the Cleveland Cavaliers, and his intense demeanor is the stuff of legends. He took South Alabama to the NCAA tournament in 1997 and the Minnesota Golden Gophers to a Big Ten title in '72. He was on the sidelines for 29 years in all, in four professional leagues in the United States alone, and an assistant with the Portland Trail Blazers when he died of heart and kidney failure on May 5, 2000, after also battling bone marrow cancer and a stroke.

You didn't have to root for the Hawks to have had a better season than this to have rooted for Eric Musselman to have a season exactly like this. The coach's son who needed no reminders of what he doesn't have anymore went around the NBA and was reminded of what he always will have.

"It's been a tough year, but a great year too," he said.

In part because it has been so unexpected. He never could have imagined this kind of response from team personnel -- opposing coaches, players, front-office executives -- as he travelled the league with the Hawks.

He never could have imagined his dad still coaching.

"We had talked every day since I was in college, so it kind of leaves a void," Eric said. "But any time things come up -- like the other day I went back and pulled out a bunch of drills he had used at the University of Minnesota and tried them with our guards. It really made me feel good. I called my wife when I got back to the hotel and said we tried some old drills. Twenty years, I had never even looked in his notebooks. The guys all loved them. They thought it was something new that we had created. So every day you get reminded. Something comes up."

A lot of things come up.

	“	We had talked every day since I was in college, so it kind of leaves a void. But any time things come up -- like the other day I went back and pulled out a bunch of drills he had used at the University of Minnesota and tried them with our guards. It really made me feel good. I called my wife when I got back to the hotel and said we tried some old drills. Twenty years, I had never even looked in his notebooks. The guys all loved them. They thought it was something new that we had created. So every day you get reminded. Something comes up. ”
		— Eric Musselman

"That's kind of what's made it the most gratifying after he's passed away. Mainly the referees. It's kind of surprising that those have been the guys who have gone out of their way to say something. Mike Mathis was real supportive of my sister and I when [their father] passed away. He came to the funeral. A lot of the referees have been the guys that more than anybody have gone out of their way to say something. Almost every ref, the first time that we've seen them this year, has at least said something."

The memories that can be saved in paper have been -- Eric's wife is compiling a scrapbook for their two young sons to appreciate when they get older. Articles from newspapers around the country, notes from people, photos. Wendy pulls out pictures just about every day and shows the boys their grandfather.

Someday Michael and Matthew will obviously know how to follow a scouting report. When the Trail Blazers come on the dish, one will say "There's grandpa's team." When Eric left the Orlando Magic after last season to join Lon Kruger's new staff with the Hawks, Wendy walked in and found one of the boys standing on his bed, looking up and telling their grandfather of the upcoming move to Atlanta.

"Little things like that," Eric said. "He was so different off the floor. People saw this highly competitive, almost like a mad scientist. And then off the floor he was, you know."

Different.

"He lived a great life," the son said. "He didn't suffer long. The way the Blazers handled everything at the end when he was dying was incredible. The players spent time talking to him. Brian Grant taped the last conversation and then Brian listened to it before every playoff game."

Bill was on Mike Dunleavy's staff in Portland for three years, the first time he has ever been an assistant anywhere. That made it easier to develop relationships with players, when you don't have to be the heavy as the head coach. The Trail Blazers, among other things, dedicated their 2000-01 media guide to Mussy. "A keen strategist and an inspiring motivator," they called him. Grant apparently thought so.

The Timberwolves offered a similar tribute, noting the passing of Musselman and Malik Sealy in their media guide. It included part of the speech forward Sam Mitchell delivered at a memorial service for his former coach: "If you didn't know Bill Musselman, you missed out."

Eric, a success in his own right, especially in compiling a 270-122 record in the CBA, has been finding out how many people knew his dad.

It was hard going to Portland in early November, so soon, and Minneapolis on Dec. 28, right in the holiday season. The drive to Chattanooga, Tenn., for training camp was especially difficult. Bill loved practice. He was so old school.

What a strange season it all has been -- a long road for the rebuilding Hawks, but a gratifying run for a coach with memories and a familiar name, who still has yet to go through a year without his father close by.

Scott Howard-Cooper covers the NBA for the Sacramento Bee and is a regular contributor to ESPN.com.