BARRY SHOOTS FROM THE LIP

BASKETBALL LEGEND'S tongue frequently turns into a blunt instrument, a trait that has forced him to pursue his coaching dream with the bush-league Florida Sea Dragons rather than with a team in the NBA.

FORT MYERS, Fla. - The soundtrack of Rick Barry's life resonates through a boombox of bass and bravado. Loud and proud, Barry has the subtle touch of a sledgehammer, his words the sharp precision of a butcher's knife.

He lives his life much like Jim Carrey's character in "Liar, Liar," a man who cannot help himself from saying what he truly believes.

Barry never has embraced the concept of fudging his perception of the truth for the sake of practicality and humility, shaping an image as a pretentious egomaniac.

Barry is frustrated by doors that have been slammed in his face, or those that aren't even answered when he knocks.

The NBA fraternity has cast him as inconsequential and inconvenient, denying him the opportunity to coach in a league that considers him one of the greatest players in its history.

Its silence brought Barry, a former Mercer Island resident, here to coach in a league cluttered with yesterday's discards, malfunctioning scoreboards and escape artists who squirm their way out of straitjackets at halftime to entertain a couple of thousand fans.

Barry is trying to build his resume by coaching the Florida Sea Dragons of the USBL. Perhaps the concept will work. Last week he interviewed for the vacant job at the University of Miami, where he is the all-time scoring leader.

Earlier this month, Barry discussed his pursuit of landing a job in the NBA. Taking the confident stride of a man honored as one of the 50 greatest players in league history, Barry is not shy about taking his shots.

"The worst that can happen is that they say no," Barry said. "And I've heard that enough times. The odds work in my favor every time someone says no. Just like shooting. I'm going to make a shot once in awhile."

The one college job he covets is at Miami, a place where he began establishing his legacy as a great player from 1961-65.

"I think I would have a big edge in recruiting over most of the other college coaches, to be honest with you," Barry said. "Who else is going to teach them how to be pro basketball players? . . . Last time I checked, Mike Krzyzewski, Bobby Knight, Jimmy Boeheim, Denny Crum, Gene Keady - I don't think their stats were that good in the NBA."

Without cruel intentions, Barry manages to dig his claws into some of college basketball's best coaches.

"Rick is his own worst enemy," said an NBA executive who requested anonymity. "There is a certain arrogance about him, in a condescending manner. Don't expect Rick to go to charm school and come out a new package. That's who he is."

As always, Barry's ego is his best friend and his worst enemy. It pushed him along the path toward greatness, yet cultivated a profile that has left negative imprints.

-- Upset when Golden State Warrior teammate Gus Williams fouled Earl Monroe of the New York Knicks in the closing seconds of a game - despite specific instructions not to - Barry got in Williams' face and screamed: "How can you be so (bleeping) stupid?" It was typical Barry, a spur-of-the-moment thing. Williams was mad at him for eight years before someone told Barry the cause of the dissension. Barry later apologized.

-- After retiring, he complained to referees about not getting calls in an NBA legends game.

-- After unsuccessful lobbying efforts to interview for the coaching position with the Orlando Magic for their inaugural season, Barry in 1989 spoke to the Downtown Athletic Club of Orlando. After a video presentation of his career highlights, Barry launched into a diatribe against the Magic.

Would a softer disposition have made a difference?

"In what regard?" Barry said. "If you don't want the answer to a question, then, damn it, don't ask the question. So I give the answer to the question, and now I'm the bad guy. I'm passionate about what I do. Because I believe, I have conviction. That's what made me successful. That's what still makes me successful.

"I try to be nice. I try to give more thought to what I say about things. I did open my mouth and stick my foot in it when I was younger. I try to be sensitive to some people now. There's a point when I get so fed up with things that I can't help but say what I really feel because people should know! I know I've said things that have ticked people off. But it's their problem."

Their problem has become his problem. Barry has yet to interview for any coaching vacancy in the NBA, even as an assistant.

"If people understood me and knew who I was, they'd realize that I would try to be the best damn assistant they ever had," Barry said. "But who's got a strong enough personality or ego to be able to deal with the fact that you've got somebody as your assistant coach that you're afraid of, that has a name that's maybe bigger than you and the game?

"And that scares the hell out of a lot of people."

Since 1992, Barry has paid his dues in Cedar Rapids, Iowa; Fort Wayne, Ind.; Asbury Park, N.J.; and in Fort Myers, where he is in his first season as coach.

He was a gangly 6-foot-7 forward from New Jersey who shot free throws in that funky, underhand style. Barry signed with the University of Miami. Without the three-point line as a crutch, Barry averaged 37.4 points, leading the nation in scoring in his senior season in 1965.

Playing for five teams in 14 seasons in both pro leagues. Barry kept scoring in bunches. He is the only player to lead the NBA (1967) and ABA (1969) in scoring, establishing a career benchmark with an NBA Finals MVP award after leading the Warriors to the league title in 1975. He made 90 percent of his free-throw attempts.

Barry's legacy reflects a strong work ethic instilled by his father in Elizabeth, N.J.

Richard Francis Denny Barry III always had a certain spunk about him, playing with seventh- and eighth-graders on a basketball team when he was in the fifth grade. His older brother was a teammate, his father the coach.

"My father was a perfectionist," Barry said. "My father was very demanding of me, teaching me the fundamentals, taking me out of a game if I made a mistake. So I became very demanding of myself, and I was very demanding of my teammates. If you screwed up, I said something to you. But it's a spur-of-the-moment thing. When it's over, it's over."

At 56, Barry has stopped counting the days away from home in Colorado Springs, away from his wife, Lynn, and 6-year-old son Canyon.

The kid has great basketball genes: dad an NBA Hall of Famer, mom a former All-American at William & Mary. Besides hoop skills, what other of his father's traits might Canyon inherit? Lynn Barry rattled off a string of words to describe her husband: "Persistent. Driven. Loving. Caring. Type-A. Good husband. Good father. Loyal."

It marks a distinctly different profile than the one documented in a stinging 1991 Sports Illustrated article titled "Daddy Dearest," focusing on the strained relationship between Barry and his four older sons. Three play in the NBA, including Sonic guard Brent Barry.

"As you get older, your family becomes more important," said Rick Barry, who has been married three times. "You realize your family means much more than all the other garbage that's out there."

Clifford Ray, a Sea Dragon assistant who worked as a consultant with the Magic last season, shares a home with Barry in nearby Cape Coral during the USBL season.

"I've always thought he had a good heart," Ray said. "He is very genuine . . . When are people going to get it right? I'm sure it hurts him. Think about it. You left your heart and soul on the basketball court, night in and night out, averaged 30-plus. One of the 50 greatest players. He is a living monument to this game. We just lost Wilt Chamberlain. What are we going to do, wait until we lose this guy until we show him something?"

Deprived of opportunity, Barry continues the improbable chase along the edge of I-75. There are nights when it all unravels.

In Dodge City, Kan., on June 11, Barry was ejected - and reportedly nearly arrested - after protesting a call in the closing seconds of the first half.

It likely will add another story to the archives.

"I'm the easy target," Barry said. "And people have a great time trying to take shots at me."