You have to wonder. How does he deal with it? Does the dog hide under the sofa when he comes home? Does his wife put their daughter to bed, telling her not to bother daddy because he's had another bad day? Does he try different routes to and from work to see if that might help? Has he got the Psychic Friends Network on speed dial?

	Floyd was a solid college coach, but at the NBA level he's hurting.

At times he has to ask himself, 'what have I gotten myself into?' It would be understandable. No coach in NBA history has lost like Tim Floyd is losing and managed to not only live to talk about it, but remain at the helm. He is now into his fourth season at Chicago, which, of course, means he has his fourth straight terrible team. Entering Tuesday's game in Denver, Floyd has a career record of 46-174.

It would be one thing if Floyd were Chicago's version of ML Carr, a gadfly with transparent designs on the No. 1 pick in the draft. He's not. He was an accomplished college coach who won at places not to be confused with Kansas or Duke: Idaho, New Orleans, Iowa State. He won 65 percent of his games there. He was an assistant and chief recruiter at a place in Texas (UTEP) where, as his boss once put it, 'no one out there ever dreamed of playing for me.' He somehow helped get Tim Hardaway (Chicago) and Antonio Davis (Oakland) to go there.

Interestingly, both Hardaway and Davis were free agents last summer. Both talked about possibly going to Chicago. Neither one did.

Instead, the Bulls traded their best player off a gruesome 15-win team and set about, once again, to rebuild from scratch. Or, as Floyd put it, "we're rebuilding on the rebuilding." It has been that way since Floyd took over the Bulls starting with the lockout season. Coaches like to think they're teachers and Floyd is the consummate teacher. Every year he has a new class.

"It has been difficult," he admits. Amazingly, the guy has not gone gray (although his brief experiment with a beard last summer went that route) nor has he lost his sense of humor or his accommodating nature.

"I expected that when I took the job, that the challenge would be trying to win a seventh championship with Michael, Scottie and Dennis all returning. Three months later, you find out have an entirely new roster."

And a new one after that. And so on.

	“	I expected that when I took the job, that the challenge would be trying to win a seventh championship with Michael, Scottie and Dennis all returning. Three months later, you find out have an entirely new roster. ”
		— Floyd

No one on the Bulls team this year was on that first roster. Only two players, Fred Hoiberg and Ron Artest, remain from Floyd's second Chicago team. In the last three years, there has been astonishing turnover -- 25 new players. This year's team has seven new faces, ranging from the gruff Charles Oakley to the callow Eddy Curry and Tyson Chandler. Not only are the faces new, they're also increasingly younger.

Red Auerbach couldn't have won with a revolving door like that. Floyd had a reputation in college as a stickler, a competitor, a firebrand of sorts who, while ultra-combative on the sidelines, had soft enough edges to remember the office help on Secretary's Day on his first day at New Orleans.

But he's had to do a 180 with his coaching personality. He's had to do a lot more hand-holding than he ever imagined.

"It (the losing) has really changed the whole nature of how I had to approach coaching. How I coached for three years has been entirely different from who I am," he said. "I think I'm like, in terms of temperament and personality, in terms of intensity, say a Pat Riley or a Jerry Sloan. But over the course of losing, you find that you can't drive teams because losing makes players vulnerable. You get teams that are prepared to quit if you run them too hard. If their name is mentioned, they feel like they're the reason for every loss. They're very sensitive. You find yourself doing more one-on-one talking than you do really driving teams like you do when you win."

The one constant among Floyd's teams, other than the losing, was that they usually were competitive. True, there were some horrifying losses, but, for the most part, the Bulls generally came to play. It's just that they didn't have much to play with and that inevitably showed at the end.

	“	It (the losing) has really changed the whole nature of how I had to approach coaching. How I coached for three years has been entirely different from who I am. I think I'm like, in terms of temperament and personality, in terms of intensity, say a Pat Riley or a Jerry Sloan. But over the course of losing, you find that you can't drive teams because losing makes players vulnerable. ”
		— Floyd

You rarely heard that Floyd was out of touch or in over his head. You rarely heard players gripe, even though Floyd did have some clashes with Jamal Crawford last season. In three of the most tormenting seasons that anyone could endure, the Bulls were, basically, free of finger-pointing, sniping and controversy.

Then, this season, Oakley arrived and he is known for many things. One of those is chirping to reporters when he sees something he doesn't like.

The Oakman saw just that after the Bulls were edged by 53 points last week in Minnesota. Floyd called the effort pathetic. Oakley snapped back and ripped the coach's substitution patterns, adding, "if we're not trying to win, we might as well play the young guys and get blown out by 50 every night." GM Jerry Krause fined Oakley $50,000, calling it one of the worst days in his long (16 years) tenure with Chicago.

Oakley, of course, was unrepentant. He said he was not a slave, that he was free to speak his mind, and that he might even match the $50,000 and donate it to charity. He's also considering appealing the fine as well.

Oakley is one of Krause's all-time favorite players, even though it was Krause's dealing of Oakley to New York for Bill Cartwright which got the Bulls the championship-level center they needed. He is what he is -- a veteran who speaks his mind, whether it's about the clueless young players or the apparently clueless coaches. Oakley is in the last year of his contract, so he won't be around for long. He may not even last until April and Krause already has made it clear that he sides with his coach.

The Oakley-Floyd contretemps temporarily diverted attention from the Bulls' schedule and results. That was a good thing, but it won't last. Chicago is on the road for the next two weeks, not a good sign. The team does have Eddie Robinson back, but Artest is still out, as is Crawford. As Krause noted, "I don't care who you are, if you lose three of your top six players, you're going to struggle."

The Bulls will struggle even when those lads return (although Crawford may be out all year.) Still, Krause said that he finally has provided enough talent for Floyd to win, adding. "the light is on. The talent's here, now. It has been tough on Tim, but I understand what's going on."

Krause has been an unflagging Floyd supporter. He hand-picked Floyd out of the college ranks and still thinks he has an outstanding head coach. He admits to being as frustrated as Floyd, but there's one big difference: a general manager looks down the road. A coach lives by the day and by the game. It's either winning or misery, as Pat Riley called it.

For Floyd, it has been excruciating to the point where we're talking possible Eighth Amendment violations. Yes, he's well compensated. Yes, he has excellent perks and benefits. But he also has a reputation and no amount of money or freebies can pay for that. You only hope that someday soon, he'll be able to play with his dog after a game, kiss his daughter goodnight and tell her all about the big win, and sit down and savor a victory.

He deserves that much. You just wonder if it that will ever happen for him in Chicago.

Peter May, who covers the NBA for the Boston Globe, is a regular contributor to ESPN.com.