The NBA coach of the year gets a cool trophy and a pink slip.

All in all, Nuggets coach George Karl would rather have a slice of pizza.

"Hey, Kiz," said Karl, addressing me with the enthusiasm usually reserved for a meter maid. "Do you have a vote for coach of the year?"

Heck, no. And I was glad to inform Karl that no ballot was in my possession.

I wouldn't wish NBA coach of the year on my worst enemy. Truth be known, I would rather ticket and tow Karl's car than give him a vote for coach of the year.

By the time the regular season concludes April 17, the Nuggets almost certainly will have recorded the most victories in a single season since Denver joined the NBA in 1976.

Kudos to Karl. When I told Karl the achievement certainly qualifies him as a legitimate candidate for coach of the year, he made a face. Not a face that's aglow from a compliment. More like the face you see on a man awaiting a root canal.

"Coach of the year? I'm not sure I want that legacy," Karl said Wednesday. "Have you seen what happens to guys who win coach of the year?"

The award is cursed. Ask any of these winners from the past 10 years.

In 2004, Hubie Brown won 50 games with Memphis, but was gone by Thanksgiving of the following season, due to his own poor health or the lousy attitude of his players, take your pick.

In 2005, Mike D'Antoni magically turned Phoenix point guard Steve Nash into the most valuable player. A defenseless D'Antoni, however, got canned in 2008 for a team whose lack of commitment to defense was indefensible.