RealClearSports: Scandals Are as Old as College Sports Itself

By Art Spander

One autumn day in ’69 – 1869 – young men from Rutgers and Princeton engaged in what they called a football game. That surely was the last time real students were called upon for such competition.

College sport these days is played by people chosen for the task – “student athletes,” as the NCAA describes them – and while they may go to class and even pass with flying honors (as compared to passing the football), they were brought in to win games. Or matches.

It is an inescapable fact: the better the athlete, the better the team. Which is why we have this little contretemps at Memphis, wherein the best high school basketball player in the nation a couple of years back, Derrick Rose, was readily enrolled, even though he may have cheated on his entrance exam.

And why the University of Southern California finds its reputation in danger on charges that Heisman Trophy winner Reggie Bush broke rules by accepting cash, a car and free housing, and charges that basketball star O.J. Mayo received improper payments from the school’s coach, Tim Floyd.

The Sorbonne doesn’t have a home-and-home series with Cambridge. Or anyone. There is no such thing in Europe as intercollegiate sports. Or high school sports. Kids go to school to study and learn. If they play games, it is for a club.

But this is the good old U.S. of A., where the idea is to fill stadiums and arenas, leading to hours of television coverage, all of which is accomplished by bringing in the Reggie Bushes and Derrick Roses. They purported themselves well, too, the Trojans and Tigers both reaching national championship games with Reggie and Derrick in the lineup.

Here, we stick decals of our school on the back window and slogans – “How ’bout them dogs” – on the back bumper. In Britain, rear-window decals identify the dealer where the car was purchased. How ’bout them cylinders?

It’s all a matter of talent. There’s a kid, runs the 40 in 4.4 and scored 30 touchdowns as a prep. Or maybe he’s 6-9 and averaged 25 points and 12 rebounds. Intellectually, he’s not Albert Einstein. But your rival is chasing him. And as the sports sociologist Harry Edwards points out, “If you don’t get him, they’ll get him and use him against you.”

So Kelvin Sampson becomes a little too aggressive after coming to Indiana.

So a long while ago, SMU gets the so-called Death Penalty for a zillion violations, but with Eric Dickerson and Craig James, the Mustangs did beat Texas, meaning it was worth it to the alums.

So even Harvard – Harvard! – is accused of a number of questionable practices to work around NCAA rules by hiring an assistant basketball coach who had been traveling and playing pickup games with potential athletes.

It’s not going to change. Ever. Penn State has expanded its stadium to more than 100,000. Michigan, Tennessee and Ohio State all are in six figures. You think those schools, you think any school in big time sports, might be scouring PE classes for a quarterback? Or a point guard?

“Football,” said a man named Elbert Hubbard, “is a sport that bears the same relationship to education that bullfighting does to agriculture.”

Ole! And back at you.

“A school without football,” said Vince Lombardi, “is in danger of deteriorating into a medieval study hall.” As if Vince, who went from Fordham to coach in the NFL, knew anything about medieval study halls. Now, blocking and tackling, that was different.

What will happen to USC or to Memphis is probably nothing. USC has been under a cloud for months – Bush has been on the New Orleans Saints since 2006 – and already Memphis is in full denial, insisting it found no proof Rose cheated on the exam. Derrick, of course, joined the NBA as soon as possible.

The people who buy the season tickets are remarkably unmoved by any and all accusations. They don’t care how you win, they just want you to win. And to hell with anyone looking for trouble.

It was in 1976 when Frank Boggs of the Oklahoma City Times, acknowledged to be the best sportswriter in the state, wrote a story that another NCAA investigation of the University of Oklahoma’s football program was under way.

Boggs, merely the messenger, not the cause, was harassed, threatened and had to have police protection. A caller said he would burn down Boggs’ home. Eventually, Boggs moved to Colorado.

Jack Taylor, who shared the byline with Boggs, had done pieces on the Mafia and corruption in government, but said public reaction to the football story was “much more controversial” than anything he ever had written.

People don’t want the truth. They want championships.

As a reporter since 1960, Art Spander is a living treasure of sports history. A recipient of the Dick McCann Memorial Award -- given for his long and distinguished career covering professional football -- he has earned himself a spot in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. And he has recently been honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award by the PGA of America for 2009. 

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http://www.realclearsports.com/articles/2009/06/scandals-old-as-college-sports-itself.html
© RealClearSports 2009 

Magic, Serena are in and Cavs are way out

The Magic is in, and the Cavs are way out. Serena is in, meaning her usual controversy as well as the fourth round of the French Open. And Venus is out. Interesting enough weekend for you?

The Lakers had to love it. Without Phil Jackson voicing a single complaint, they now have the home-court advantage for the NBA finals.

ABC-TV has to rue it. Kobe vs. LeBron is simply another failed dream.

Tennis has to appreciate it. Serena Williams is what America finds irresistible, an unending drama, the true reality show.

LeBron James is a great basketball player. If he weren’t, the Cavaliers would have been swept by the Orlando Magic, instead of losing the Eastern Conference finals in six games.

What Nike’s going to do now with that commercial of Muppet-like characters representing a dueling LeBron and Kobe is anyone’s guess. What Cleveland’s going to do now that its team, which had the best record of the regular season, laid a dinosaur-sized egg is everyone’s guess.

LeBron leaves for the Knicks when his contract is up in another year. You want to hang around a team that isn’t a team, but just one magnificent player who virtually by himself could win two games in the playoffs but found it impossible to win four?

Venus Williams played, well, about as poorly as the Cavs, losing on Friday to someone you’ve never heard of, Agnes Szavay, 6-0, 6-4. Yes the multiple Grand Slam winner, the No. 3 seed, got bageled, which is what some of the tennis folk call a shutout. Only the 14th time in 662 matches Venus was blanked in a set.

But Serena wasn’t to put up with that nonsense. She not only rumbled back from her usual slow start on Saturday, over there on the clay in Paris, to beat Maria Jose Martinez Sanchez, 4-6, 6-3, 6-4 (don’t they have a limit of three names in tennis?), Serena accused Martinez Sanchez of cheating.

Now, there’s a lady you have to like. Enough of this etiquette stuff.

In the first set, Serena smashed a ball at Sanchez, and most people, including Williams but not her opponent, thought the ball never touched Sanchez’s racket but instead banged off her right arm and dropped on Williams side of the net.

Sanchez won the point, even though the rules dictate that if the ball hit her body, the point belonged to Serena.

Serena first apologized for driving the ball at Sanchez, the normal procedure, but then added about the apparent cheating, “I’m going to get you in the locker room for that. You don’t know me.’’

The rest of us do. Serena has the toughness needed to be a champion, the toughness the Cavaliers only wish they had.

The Orlando Magic aren’t a lot of frauds, not with people such as Dwight Howard or Rashard Lewis. But neither are they supposed to be facing the Lakers.

The script was LeBron against Kobe, this year’s MVP against last year’s MVP. Nice try.

Some of the people out there, the reasonable thinkers, had the smarts to point out that teams with one superstar never win championships, that Michael had Scottie, that Kobe had Shaq. LeBron’s cast didn’t provide that balance.

Amazing didn’t happen in Cleveland. Orlando happened in Cleveland. And to Cleveland. Orlando, in truth, was relentless. If it wasn’t for LeBron’s ridiculous shot with no time on the clock in game two, the Magic would have taken four straight games.

The Lakers will not take four straight from Orlando, but they will win another title. After its inability to show anything resembling Serena Williams’ gutsy style in the first few games against the Nuggets, L.A. came through with a vengeance to take the conference title.

You have to believe that the Lakers finally have figured out what is required. And, even with their sometimes listless play against Houston and then Denver, the Lakers did end up winners, which is all that matters.

Kobe seems particularly focused. He’s the man now. Considerable help from Pau Gasol and Trevor Ariza, but Kobe Bryant controls the game. He doesn’t need to share the basketball and for certain he won’t have to share attention.

No LeBron. But a very enticing NBA final. And should Serena continue another few matches, the final of the French Open could be just as enticing.

RealClearSports: Ignore 'Who's Better' Debates and Enjoy NBA Playoffs

By Art Spander

Another one of those unwinnable arguments. Another incessant and illogical need to compare. Another question that can’t be answered but has some people lined up determined to try.

Is LeBron better than Kobe?

Then again, is Kobe better than Michael? Or Michael better than Magic or Larry? Or, even though he played a different game in a different era, is Bill Russell, on the strength of his championships, better than anyone?

I’m going to appreciate every one of them. They were special, they are special. And just because ESPN or some other publication asks for a vote on who’s No. 1, we don’t have to be lulled into the trap and provide a response.

Now, if you ask if LeBron James was fantastic Thursday night, that’s different. Or if Kobe has been fantastic game after game. Or if Dwight Howard and Carmelo Anthony have shown they are among the elite, well, there’s no argument.

Basketball is the ultimate team game, so we dare not forget the other characters in the dramas, Pau Gasol, Chauncey Billups, Mo Williams, people far more than role players.

We’re getting everything we could wish, a postseason that – and yes, I’m breaking my own rule of rejecting comparisons – could be the best ever.

From the Bulls-Celtics series, that had it been the NBA finals and not simply a first-rounder still would have us talking and reflecting, the excitement has come sweeping at us in endless waves. What next?

Take it from someone, me, who has been there, someone who started watching the NBA when Jerry West, “The Logo,’’ was a rookie, 1960, it doesn’t get any better than it has been.

Even Magic-Bird. Even Rick Barry-Elvin Hayes. Even when in 1976 Gar Heard threw in that miracle for the Suns and forced the Celtics to go to triple overtime.

I was down on the NBA for a few years. The play didn’t meet the hype. The game was too programmed, too restricted, great athletes figuratively tethered by coaches who would rather have a wrestling match than a ballet.

But what’s out there now – what we’re witnessing, to expand on the theme of LeBron and the Cavaliers – is compelling theater, must-see theater. The wow factor has taken control. And isn’t that what counts?

If you’re a Lakers fan, a Cavs fan, or a fan of the other two teams still playing as May heads into June, it’s results that matter. For the rest of us, it’s method.

To watch LeBron hit that 3-pointer with time running out in Game 2, to watch the Magic hold off the Cavs with Tiger Woods in the building, to watch Denver attempt the virtually impossible scheme of keeping Kobe Bryant from getting off his jumper, is what sport is all about.

We don’t need Charles Barkley or Kenny Smith to tell us how great these games and players have been. We know. And we’re enthralled. How do the Cavs blow a 22-point lead and still win by 10? How does LeBron keep on running and jumping, shooting and passing?

It’s all worked out perfectly for the two networks, ESPN and TNT, one evening Lakers-Nuggets, the next Cavs-Magic, guaranteed excitement every 24 hours.

It’s all worked out perfectly for us, the sporting public who can’t wait for the next tipoff.

In his famed dictionary of 1755, Samuel Johnson, the Englishman, called sport “tumultuous merriment.’’ A brilliant definition, and surely the last few weeks the NBA playoffs have left us tumultuously merry.

Technical fouls have been called and then rescinded. Mark Cuban, unfortunately, belittled Denver’s Kenyon Martin via e-mail. In L.A., Jack Nicholson, from his $2,500 seat, has cheered the Lakers but given the high sign now and then to their opponents.

The NFL is No. 1 in America, a fact well recognized when this week Sports Illustrated put Tom Brady on its cover. And baseball has history on its side, carrying back to the 19th century. But basketball has found its place, on the tube, in our hearts.

If the play has been a trifle erratic, if it’s hard to figure why the Lakers look so good at home and so bewildering away, that’s only contributed to the excitement. Teams coming unglued. Teams coming back.

We were promised entertainment, and the playoffs have lived up to the promise. Is LeBron better than Kobe? Who cares, as long as they and Carmelo and Dwight are making us gasp and hope these games never end.

As a reporter since 1960, Art Spander is a living treasure of sports history. A recipient of the Dick McCann Memorial Award -- given for his long and distinguished career covering professional football -- he has earned himself a spot in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. And he has recently been honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award by the PGA of America for 2009.   

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http://www.realclearsports.com/articles/2009/05/hoping_playoffs_dont_end.html
© RealClearSports 2009

RealClearSports: A Collision, Not a Dance

By Art Spander

The game is portrayed as one of elegance and grace, ballet in Nikes. In truth, pro basketball is a contact sport, with huge men crashing into each other, shoving and pushing. They’d just as soon knock down an opponent as they would knock down a jumper.

We weren’t sure what to expect when the Lakers met the Denver Nuggets on Tuesday night. Other than there would be a lot of fouls. Oh, and that the Nuggets would try to intimidate a Laker team that had everyone bewildered. Including the Lakers themselves.

A few weeks ago, in our usual rush to judgment, and with our monumental impatience, the NBA finalists had been decided, at least by people who have nothing better to do than express opinions.

It would be the Cleveland Cavaliers against the Lakers. It would be LeBron James against Kobe Bryant. It still might be, although we are less sure. And to hear Kobe talk after the Lakers staggered past the Nuggets, 105-103, in the opener of the Western Conference finals, maybe the Lakers also were less sure.

Although the win, which seemingly halted the problems and the doubts created when the Lakers at times lacked direction and maybe lacked a little heart, probably changed everything.

Had the Nuggets been up 1-0 after a game on the Lakers’ home floor, they would be in control. Jack Nicholson and the other swells in the $2,500 courtside seats would be distraught. But it’s the Lakers up 1-0, winning a game of floor burns and bruised bodies, if not of bruised egos.

“They outplayed us,” said Lakers coach Phil Jackson, “and we won the game.”

Unlike a couple of those miserable performances against the Houston Rockets in the last series, when the Lakers needed the entire seven games to beat a team without its two main men, Tracy McGrady and Yao Ming.

The Lakers won because they have Kobe Bryant, who scored 40 points, 18 in the fourth quarter. And because they have Trevor Ariza, who in the closing seconds made a steal that showed anticipation as well as agility.

They won despite Carmelo Anthony, who scored 39 for the Nuggets.

This is what you expect from the big ones, your best players at their best. And so it was with Kobe and Carmelo. One would score. Then the other. Bryant courageously tried to stop Anthony on defense.

“He’s a bull,” Bryant would say in interviews carried on ESPNEWS.

A few days ago, after they had beaten the Rockets by 40 at home, the Lakers lost to the Rockets by 15 on the road. The probable matchup against the Cavs and LeBron seemed as far away as Mars. The sharp knives were out, wielded by critics who justifiably thought the Lakers caved in.

Even Kobe on Tuesday night felt compelled to use the word “capitulated,” indicating he was no less disgusted than the rest of us.

There was no capitulation against the Nuggets, who, while a lesser team than the Lakers, have the paranoia necessary to want to succeed. Denver is out to show something. The Lakers, on the other hand, are mostly worried about showtime.

The Lakers are more than L.A.’s team, they are L.A.’s focus. There’s no pro football franchise, if you don’t count USC, albeit many people do. There are only the Dodgers, Manny-less at the moment but still winning, and the Lakers, a team of stars and of the Hollywood stars. Along with Nicholson, Denzel Washington, Drew Barrymore and Justin Timberlake were in attendance.

Every time the Lakers are on the court, especially postseason, it’s less an athletic contest than a production number. You think the reviews were tough for “Angels & Demons,” check them out after the Lakers have a bad night. The water cooler talk about Tom Hanks is no less catty than it is about Kobe or Pau Gasol.

Kobe is The Man. As opposed to The Manny. Bryant had his own troubles six years ago, but those are a distant memory. Now Kobe is an MVP. Now Kobe is a savior.

“I could score 35 a night if I want, but that’s not something I’m concerned with,” he said without bragging. “I want to win a championship. Tonight, it was something we needed, but that’s not my goal.”

Jackson, the Lakers coach, agreed. “We had very little else going for us besides Kobe,” he insisted. “And at the end when we needed a basket he muscled his way through.”

In pro basketball, you get physical or you get beat.

As a reporter since 1960, Art Spander is a living treasure of sports history. A recipient of the Dick McCann Memorial Award -- given for his long and distinguished career covering professional football -- he has earned himself a spot in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. And he has recently been honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award by the PGA of America for 2009.

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http://www.realclearsports.com/articles/2009/05/lakers-nuggets-collision-not-dance.html
© RealClearSports 2009

Lakers: Plenty of talent, very little heart

Here are the conceivable excuses available for the Los Angeles Lakers, reputedly a basketball team of championship caliber, if not championship character.

* The game in Houston started at 9 p.m., past the Lakers’ bedtime.

* But 9 p.m. in Houston is only 7 p.m. in Los Angeles, so maybe the Lakers hadn’t awakened from their afternoon naps.

* The Lakers lost concentration because Yao Ming, unable to play, was a spectator, and rarely had been watched by anyone taller than an even 7 feet.

* The Lakers were so amused by the Nike commercial with Kobe and LeBron as Muppets characters, they couldn’t stop laughing until the Rockets were ahead 17-1.

* The Manny Ramirez situation has everyone in the L.A. area so distracted, nobody can think about anything else, Lakers included.

Yes, the Lakers will win Sunday and will take the series and move on to face Denver. But they shouldn’t. Not the way they stood around in Game 6 for the first six minutes.

You can’t call the Lakers gutless. They did rally to get within two points in the third quarter on Thursday night before losing, 95-80.

But you can call them heartless. No team with that much talent, with that much momentum, the Lakers having beaten Houston by 40 points on Tuesday night, should play that badly.

And you can call them clueless.

They were baffled by the Rockets’ Louis Scola, who scored 24 points, many of them on baskets about four inches from the rim. Scola’s from Argentina, so maybe the Lakers were looking for a guy with chaps and a Gaucho hat singing about Eva Peron.

The Lakers and Boston Celtics both have Game Sevens at home. The Celtics, the anti-Lakers, a team that scraps and hustles, earned that seventh game, showing more than enough fight in the loss at Orlando. No Kevin Garnett. Guys in foul trouble, but the Celts kept trying.

The Lakers earned a sneer. The Rockets were not only without Yao but also Tracy McGrady. And they had lost, 118-78, two evenings earlier. They had the right to, as Sinatra sang, roll up into a big ball and die. Instead it was the Lakers who were in a funk.

Phil Jackson, the Lakers coach, has nine NBA titles (six with Michael Jordan), so seemingly he understands not just the technical side of basketball but the psyches of the men who play it. Yet as Houston kept making points and L.A. kept making mistakes, Jackson was no more adept at making corrections than Madonna.

After the game, Jackson said that the Lakers play on the road “concerns me, but what are we going to do about it now? We can’t stew on it.’’

Others can. There’s the issue of pride. Champions – and hasn’t everyone all but conceded the finals will be between the Lakers and Cavaliers? – play like champions. That doesn’t mean necessarily that they’ll win. It does mean necessarily that they don’t embarrass themselves.

Or pro basketball.

You win by 40 points and 48 hours later lose by 15? Just because Jack Nicholson isn’t sitting courtside? Something is wrong.

“You know what, you’ve just got to grind these things out, man,’’ Kobe Bryant told the media after the game. “The key now is to win by any means necessary.’’

Not to question Kobe, who got his 32 points (if on 11 for 27 shooting), but isn’

t that the idea every time a team takes the floor or the field or the ice, to win?

To show up and show some courage. You’ve heard more times than needed that defense is simply hard work. Maybe the shots don’t fall, but there’s no reason you can’t do everything possible to keep the opponent’s from falling. The Lakers early on did nothing of the sort.

Scola was scoring. Aaron Brooks, 26 points, was scoring. Who would you rather have, Kobe and Pau Gasol or Louis Scola and Aaron Brooks?

Houston, the town, had given up. “Pulse faint for Crutch City Rockets,’’ was the headline in Thursday’s Houston Chronicle, a reference to McGrady and Yao. Houston the team had not given up.

Los Angeles the team? We can debate that.

Phil Jackson said he was “looking forward to Sunday’s game.’’

Coaches always talk like that. What happened in the past, even the very recent past, is never discussed openly (although you can bet there were some aggressive conversations in private.)

In a way, the Rockets are also looking forward to Sunday’s game. They never figured to get that far. Not with the Lakers having beaten them four straight in the regular season. Not with the Lakers holding the home-court advantage. Not with Houston losing star players.

“We play differently on our home court,’’ Kobe Bryant insisted.

Is that an explanation? Or an excuse?

SF Examiner: Let the Warriors' puppet show begin

By Art Spander
Special to The Examiner

OAKLAND — It was pretty much what you expected, this snatching of the keys from the man who no longer mattered and handing them to the guy who already had been opening the locks and obviously the eyes of the team president.

The Warriors on Tuesday, as promised (or should it be, as threatened?) officially installed Larry Riley as general manager in place of the obviously quite replaceable if still much admired Chris Mullin.

There were a few promises, a lot of words and a bit of skepticism, from the people with notepads and microphones, not from the two primary subjects, Robert Rowell, the Warriors prez who made the decision to dispose of Mullin and bring in Riley, or Riley, who talked as tough as he thought was required.

The three people who would have made the session considerably more entertaining — if not necessarily more enlightening — owner Chris Cohan, head coach Don Nelson and the deposed Mullin were not in attendance.

But you can’t have everything.

Of all the Bay Area pro sports franchises, a group that aside from the Sharks has been appallingly ineffective, the Warriors always have been the lovable losers. That’s meant figuratively, because for two seasons out of the last 15 they actually had winning records.

Only once in those 15, however, did they make the playoffs, and yet, a public that would boo the bejabbers out of the 49ers or Raiders — and has done so — meekly accepts the Warriors. So, went the thinking, why would management worry about improvement?

Because, insisted Rowell in the media session at Oracle Arena, losing is “unacceptable.”

Well, isn’t that a shocker?

Whether Riley can make a difference is the question, because his immediate predecessors, Mullin and Garry St. Jean, could not.

Right off, Rowell addressed the oft-whispered belief that Riley is Nelson’s “puppet,” because he has known and worked with Nellie through the years and once took a Texas-to-California journey in Nellie’s truck while he and Don “smoked cigars, chewed tobacco and listened to George Jones.”

“I don’t buy it,” Rowell said of the marionette suggestion. “You got to understand, I got a coach who will be 69 on Friday. ... He’s going to be the winningest coach in NBA history with just 24 wins next season. He’s quirky, unconventional, stubborn and hates to lose. I need someone in a position to lead this organization who understands our head coach.”

Truth be told, it doesn’t matter if Nelson pulls the strings, as long as the strings end up attached to some playing talent.

“He knows what he’s doing,” the 64-year-old Riley said of Nelson. “I’ll make decisions. I don’t have any problem doing that.”

Riley was seemingly already making decisions, an eminence grise behind the scenes, while Mullin was slipping off the GM chair.

Mully still is employed by the Warriors until June 30 when his contract expires, and “has responsibilities,” according to Rowell — whatever that means.

A wonderful player, a good guy and a so-so GM, Mully lost out in a power struggle in which he had all the struggle and none of the power. Anyone ready for the puppet show?

Art Spander has been covering Bay Area sports since 1965 and also writes on www.artspander.com and www.realclearsports.com. E-mail him at typoes@aol.com.

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Mullin better than Warriors deserved

OAKLAND -- It wasn’t exactly man-bites-dog stuff, the firing of Chris Mullin as the Golden State Warriors’ general manager. It was inevitability becoming fact.

Mullin, the lamest of lame ducks, got caught in what either was the saddest or funniest of sporting tragicomedies, sort of a Three Stooges version of “Hamlet.’’

For the past year, Mully wasn’t exactly a dead man walking, but through machinations among those above him (team president Robert Rowell) and around him (head coach Don Nelson), Chris had lost everything but his integrity.

Why this came about could perhaps be explained by those knowledgeable in Freudian theory or Communist theory, but there was no denying what had taken place, despite the denials or the silence.

On Monday afternoon, the Warriors, in one of those euphemistically phrased announcements, said “the club has elected not to renew’’ the contract of the 45-year-old Mullin, which expires June 30, and had replaced him with his 64-year-old assistant, Larry Riley.

Who is a pal of Nelson’s and who for the past few months has been in control of an operation most would agree is out of control.

Mullin had been elevated to vice president of basketball operations, or GM, in April 2004, a decision that at the time seemed both logical and intelligent. One of the Warriors’ stars of the late 1980s and early 1990s, Chris worked his way through the front office, showing skill and intelligence.

But along the way, he and Rowell had disagreements. And as others have found throughout history, in that sort of situation, the boss, the guy who in effect signs the checks, always wins.

Mullin already was semi-ostracized by the time the great Monta Ellis caper took place last summer, not long after the guard signed a huge contract.

Ellis, at home in Mississippi, incurred a severe ankle injury -- he said playing pickup basketball but what in actuality was caused by a moped accident.

Rowell, angry and vindictive, wanted to deduct a large amount, several million, from the new $66 million contract, contending through the accident Ellis violated terms of the deal and implying that Monta’s long departure (he didn’t play until January) cheated season-ticket holders who thought Monta would be on the court, not in rehab.

However, Mullin, the ex-player, was more sympathetic, figuring the pain, physical and mental -- and maybe some actual guilt -- was more than enough punishment.

This came shortly after Mullin tried to re-sign the man who had become the face of the franchise, Baron Davis, while Rowell steadfastly refused to give Baron a salary reportedly around $18 million to $19 million a year.

Surely, the disagreements over both Davis and Ellis drove the wedge between Mullin and Rowell to where there could never be reconciliation.

And there won’t be.

“It’s never an easy decision to make a change,’’ was Rowell’s comment on the dispatching of Mullin. “This case is compounded by the fact it involves Chris Mullin -- someone who has provided Bay Area fans with many great memories over the years, as both a player and executive.

“He’s a class individual who will always be remembered for his accomplishments with the Warriors organization.’’

Oh yes, a lot of praise as they figuratively toss you out the door.

While there may not have been much surprise, there is among some a great deal of disappointment. Chris Mullin, until he understandably went into hiding a few months back -- if you have nothing to do, why hang around? -- basically was an upfront guy.

Whether he was a good general manager can be argued. He gave big contracts to people such as Adonal Foyle, Derek Fisher and Mike Dunleavy, but managed to slip out of those.

Mullin traded to New Orleans to get Davis, and that transaction was the key to the Warriors in 2006-07 making the playoffs for the first time in 13 seasons and stunning the Dallas Mavericks in the first round.

But Mullin also hired Mike Montgomery from Stanford to be the Warriors’ coach. Montgomery never got the attention of the pros, particularly Baron Davis. On came Don Nelson, out of retirement, to replace Montgomery.

The new GM, Larry Riley, is a Nelson man, if that means anything. A few days ago, Nellie conceded he wasn’t sure who was making the team’s preparations for next month’s draft.

It wasn’t Chris Mullin. Even before he was out, he was on the outs. The Warriors, who had a 29-53 record this past season (Ellis’ injury and Baron’s departure were blamed), are once again waddling in confusion.

Chris Mullin may not miss all that transpired the last few months, the uncertainty, the power struggle, but we’ll miss Chris Mullin. He was better than the Warriors deserved.

RealClearSports: North Carolina is a Quick Winner

By Art Spander

This was one in which reality crushed reverie, power overwhelmed hopefulness. This was one in which the best college basketball team in the land proved it was the best college basketball team in the land, and the experts knew exactly what they are talking about.

Over the weekend, we had been immersed in the tale of Michigan State, and how its ascent was being felt by this city that once was the proud hub of a flourishing auto industry, but now reflects all the problems of America’s stumbling economy. It was going to be so glorious, so uplifting when the Spartans came through. But they could not. North Carolina never gave them a chance. The Tar Heels ran and jumped and harassed. And Michigan State was in a state of bewilderment.

In the end, Carolina won 89-72, took its fifth NCAA basketball championship, finished as the Final One of the Final Four, verified that indeed as in October’s preseason polls and now in April’s glory, the Tar Heels are an unquestioned No. 1

They hit quickly and hard, stunning not only Michigan State, but a record crowd of 72,922 at Ford Field, the majority of which naturally was cheering for the Spartans. Carolina was up 22-7 within six minutes gone; then 34-11 with 9:44 to play in the half.

Would the Tar Heels score 100? Maybe they should have. Would they beat State worse than in December, when Carolina, in the very same building, the home of the NFL Detroit Lions, dismantled the Spartans, 98-63? Maybe they could have.

“They’ve kind of given us our lunch, haven’t they?" Tom Izzo, the Michigan State coach asked with great prescience the day before the game. “But that’s because they’re a great program."

The greatest going this season.

Sunday night, Roy Williams, the Carolina coach, dined on fried lobster at the Detroit Fish Market for the second time in 48 hours. “I’m not superstitious," Williams said when confronted as he left the restaurant, “but I ate here Friday night and I didn’t want to take any chances."

With the team he put on the court, there were no chances to be taken. Carolina forced a supposedly disciplined State team into 21 turnovers. “Fourteen in the first half," said Izzo. “We couldn’t do anything. I was disappointed. I also thought we missed some good shots early. I thought we looked either shell-shocked or worn down."

The championship was a reward for Carolina players such as Tyler Hansbrough and Danny Green, who ignored opportunities to join the NBA and came back for a senior season of not so much retribution as relish.

The 6-foot-9 Hansbrough, last season’s Player of the Year, was castigated because he did not lead Carolina to a title. When Williams was asked if that would diminish Tyler’s career, he was adamant in his denial. “Ernie Banks never won a World Series," Williams reminded.

But now Hansbrough has won an NCAA, and when the final seconds ticked off and the confetti was shot from those special air guns, he was a little kid beside himself, belying a reputation for a lack of emotion.

“This was the best way to go out," Hansbrough shouted into a CBS television microphone, “after what we had been through. We climbed all the way." Hansbrough had 18 points, behind Ty Lawson’s 21 and Wayne Ellington’s 19. Center Goran Suton scored 17 in his last game for Michigan State.

“We couldn’t stop Hansbrough inside,” said Izzo, “and we couldn’t stop Lawson from getting to the line.” Lawson got 18 free throws and made 15 as he drove inside and drew foul after foul.

“All I know,” said Williams, who has led Carolina to two championships in his six years after moving there from Kansas, “is I’m the luckiest coach in America. I am so proud of this team. We overcame a lot during the season."

They also scored a lot. Eight times Carolina reached 100 points or more, and when the Heels led Michigan State 55-34 at intermission, it appeared inevitable they would do it a ninth time. But Carolina got a bit loose and sloppy, and so the rout became merely a one-sided victory.

Magic Johnson, the Michigan State alum, and Larry Bird were in the building on what was the 30th anniversary of their memorable battle in the 1979 NCAA championship, won by the Spartans over Bird and Indiana State. And Michael Jordan, a Heel, David Robinson, Vivien Stringer and John Stockton made an appearance as part of being voted into the Basketball Hall of Fame.

Quite a night for greatness. And North Carolina was a major part of that, much to the frustration of the state of Michigan and Michigan State.

As a reporter since 1960, Art Spander is a living treasure of sports history. A recipient of the Dick McCann Memorial Award -- given for his long and distinguished career covering professional football -- he has earned himself a spot in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. And he has recently been honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award by the PGA of America for 2009.

- - - - - -

http://www.realclearsports.com/articles/2009/04/north-carolina-quick-winner.html
© RealClearSports 2009

Roy Williams, the country boy who became a monarch

DETROIT – He’s smooth, smart and demanding, a melding of the country boy he used to be and the dominant basketball coach he has become. Roy Williams describes himself as corny, a word that if used in the same context could also be applied to King Henry VIII.
Thanks to Kevin813 at Flickr


Williams’ North Carolina team faces Michigan State on Monday night for the NCAA Championship, and Roy, at 58, having been there and done that, is approaching the game with his usual refined arrogance and bewildering wistfulness.



The other school is the story, and Williams well understands that, although favored Carolina is quite likely to be the winner.




Michigan State, located 92 miles away, has been anointed as the savior of an economically depressed region of Middle America. Carolina is merely attempting to fulfill the role it was given back in November, which was to finish as the best team in the land.




College basketball is a coaches’ game, an obvious statement even before Kentucky broke the bank to hire Rick Pitino a few days ago.








In the NBA, the people on court, Kobe, LeBron, Dwyane Wade, are in charge. They get the ball and the big salaries. But in the undergraduate division, the attention belongs to the coaches.




They recruit, they strategize, they keep the media entertained or outraged. Or in some cases, both.




Williams can be defensive, although through the seasons, at Kansas and then his alma mater, Carolina, his teams have been recognized for offense. But rather than confront, Williams persuades. Or derides something as “hogwash,” a term virtually guaranteed to elicit a chuckle instead of a sneer.


Roy makesjournalists feel accepted — unlike, say, Bobby Knight — but Williams also lets themknow who’s boss. Right away Sunday, Williams, in his white golf shirt and babyblue Carolina sleeveless sweater, opened an interview by remarking, “If I’mdoing this now, don’t expect me to stay around 30 minutes after (the players)leave. I have more important things to do than stand around here and makefun.”


Or pay lip serviceto the suggestion that a Michigan State victory would benefit the local territory,ravaged by the decline and fall of the U.S. auto industry. Roy wants to see thecar business thrive once more. He also wants to see Carolina win its secondtitle in his six seasons as the headman.


“If we’re playingagainst the city of Detroit and the state of Michigan,” said Williams of theidea that the majority of the 70,000-plus people at Ford Field will be cheering forMichigan State, “they outnumber us. We don’t have a good chance at that one … I do realize they have a cause. Well, we also have a cause.


“We want to win anational championship. Period. The end. And if you tell me if Michigan Statewins it’s going to satisfy the nation’s economy, then I’d say, ‘Hell! Let’s staypoor for a little while longer.’”


Williams thenpointed out that he only would be concerned if the workers of America “come down andstart guarding my butt on the bench.”


What Carolina mighthave to guard against is complacency, not that it’s likely. The start ofDecember, in the very same building, Ford Field, where the Detroit Lions perfectedtheir imperfection, North Carolina defeated Michigan State, 98-63.


Michigan State,tired and injured at that time, is a far, far better team four months later.Then again, so is Carolina. And who cares about 70,000 people supporting theother guy?


“You know, to me,”said Williams, “it’s not nuclear science. We’re coaching basketball. We’replaying basketball. I go out on the court (Saturday night for the semifinal, inwhich Carolina beat Villanova, 83-69) and look up, trying to figure where is theguy with the worst seat in the house. ‘Wonder what he’s thinking right now?’ I said, ‘OK.’ Then that wasit. I mean you’re focused on the task.”


Which is winning fora group of seniors, including last season’s Player of the Year, TylerHansbrough, and Danny Green, who returned for a last fling instead of enteringthe pro draft.


“You know,”Williams told us, “I’m corny. There’s no question about it. I’m emotional. Thissenior class has been really, really important to me. These guys came in afterthe (2005) championship year. We didn’t have a lot coming back. They competedfrom the first day … The classes I’ve recruited in 21 years (15 at Kansas),this is the one that’s special.”


This is the gamethat’s special, the game that because of the size of the facility, in whichSaturday a record 72,456 were in attendance, could be intimidating but toWilliams is not.


“I like playing onthe road,” said Williams of what technically is a neutral side, yet is anythingbut. “I like going to some other place and having my team so focused that we can shut the crowd up. Now this will be the maximum test.”


Roy Williams and his team are well prepared.

A joy ride for Izzo and Michigan State

DETROIT -- They're 92 miles away. Ninety-two miles and one game. The team
from the state of Michigan, the state of euphoria, Michigan State, is riding to
where the road ends, an underdog under full head of steam and believing in a
dream.

The script is joyful
and remarkable. The not-so-little team that, as coach Tom Izzo points out, is
playing for the university, for itself, for this city of Detroit 92 miles from
campus at East Lansing, indeed all of Michigan, a state struck hard by the
economic downtown, comes through when needed.

One weekend it
knocks off the No. 1 seed in the NCAA tournament, Louisville, and then, with all
sorts of subplots weaving their magic – not to be confused with alumnus Earvin "Magic" Johnson, who was present and accounted for – the Spartans give a
virtual repeat performance.

On Saturday night,
before the largest crowd in NCAA tournament history, 72,456 at Ford Field, MSU
literally runs past Connecticut, 82-73, to reach the Monday night final against North Carolina.

And Izzo, who knows
full well the problems of the American auto industry, Detroit's failing engine
as it were, stands on the court and through the screams and cheers shares the
appreciation of a region that knows well the pain and pleasure of a job well
done.

"We're a blue-collar
team," said Izzo, "and this is the blue-collar city. It was amazing, amazing to
walk out that tunnel. Give the people of Detroit, the Ford Field people,
credit.

"Yes, there were a
lot of Michigan State fans. I'm appreciative for all the people. I hope we were
a ray of sunshine, distraction for them, a diversion ... We're not done
yet."

Two Big East teams
in a row, Louisville and Connecticut, victims of Michigan State's tenacity. And
depth. "We want to run," said
Izzo. "I thought we could wear them down a bit. I thought depth worked on our
side. We knew that going in."

The Spartans used 11
players, belying the basic rule a team can't function with more than eight or
nine regulars. Connecticut had its eight. And its troubles. Michigan State's
bench outscored Connecticut's 33-7.

"That's the type of
player (Izzo) recruits," said Magic Johnson, hard-nosed, hardworking. Thirty years ago, in that memorable game
against Larry Bird and Indiana State, the game some believe was the birth of college
basketball interest, the Magic man led the Spartans to the NCAA
championship.

Saturday night, in
his green-and-white pullover, the one with "State" across the front, he sat in
the fourth row behind the Michigan
State bench and cheered. After visiting the pre-game Spartan locker
room.

Magic; former San
Francisco 49er coach Steve Mariucci, Izzo's boyhood pal; and Minnesota Vikings
assistant Pat Morris, another Spartan, were in the MSU locker room pre-game,
extolling, advising.

"A couple of
football guys, a big basketball guy (told) our team that it's going to be a
football game, so you might as well get ready for one," Izzo said. "I thought they were the
most physical team we played all year."

Just before
halftime, Connecticut's Jeff Adrian grabbed a rebound under the MSU basket and
was grabbed by the Spartans' Travis Walton, trying to extricate the ball. There
was grappling and shoving and glaring. But the officials stepped in, and the end
result was a couple of free throws for Adrian, who unlike some of his teammates
actually made them.

"Our league is
physical," said Izzo of the Big Ten. "Our league is tough. Our league is good
defensively. That helped prepare us for this tournament."

Izzo, whose team won
the title in 2000, who is coaching his fifth Final Four, helped prepare his
team. His tactics were brilliant, his substituting astute. Kalin Lucas, the
sophomore guard, had 21 points and five assists for Michigan State. Raymar
Morgan, with a broken nose and other ailments and seemingly as depressed as the
auto industry, awoke for 18 points, nine rebounds and impressive defense against
anyone Izzo chose.

"Sometimes it's hard
for me to find the right buttons," Izzo said of provoking Morgan. "Today the
button was, 'Ray I need you.' All but get down on my knees and beg. And it
worked pretty good."

Everything's working
for the Spartans.

"You know, after the
Louisville game," said Izzo, "I got to admit, I felt joy. I felt joy for the
university, our team, our conference, our city, our state. It's just a
once-in-a-lifetime thing. Those other Final Fours have been great, but boy, when
people you really care about can go right around the corner and see you play,
that's a special time, a special feeling.

"After the game, it
was surreal, impressive. Now it all turns to whoever we play and to see if we
can make the dream, the miracle, everything, come true one more
time."

Around here, they believe in Magic. And Tom Izzo.

RealClearSports: Road Ends Where It Once Began

By Art Spander

The slogan is both appropriate and ironic. “The Road Ends Here.”
That's what the NCAA is telling us. Here, in Motown, the city where if
the American road literally didn't begin, America's freedom of movement
did by using all that Detroit Iron.

It's the last weekend of the college basketball season, the Final
Four, as others contemplate a last hurrah of an industry that
metaphorically is 10 points down with 20 seconds to go. Wheels, that's
what Detroit thought about. And now for a few days, it's thinking
hoops, basketball, the NCAA championship, and the end of the road.

Now for a few days Detroit is offered an escape from the headlines,
from the economy, from the collapse of the automobile business. Or so
we're told.

So much has been made of Michigan State, which faces Connecticut on
Saturday evening in the first semifinal, becoming a savior, creating an
opportunity for Detroit, Southeastern Michigan, to find the pride and
satisfaction once found in building Chevys and Fords. You wonder. Even
if the Spartans win, the potholes will remain on the beat-up highways.
Even if the Spartans win, the jobless rate will remain much too high.
Even if the Spartans win it won't counter the loss of citizens,
460,000, which obligated the Detroit News to banner, "Eight-year population exodus staggers state."

And by most estimates, the Spartans won't win. The forecasters say
Connecticut will beat Michigan State and in Monday's final, play North
Carolina, which in the other semi meets Villanova. But who knows?
Predictions can be unreliable, maybe even those the last few days
insisting the auto business here is finished.

Tom Izzo, the Michigan State coach, is from the state, the Upper
Peninsula, one of the guys known as "Yupers." He and boyhood pal Steve
Mariucci, the football coach, grew up having to prove themselves.
Izzo's Spartans play basketball with that same chip-on-the-shoulder
mentality.

"I think players play," was Izzo's observation of the competition, "and the toughest players win."

In a region of mills, factories, and unemployment, the tough survive. The tough are admired.

Michigan State, as perhaps Detroit, gets too little respect. There was an interesting quote the other day in the Washington Post from Larry Alexander, president and chief executive of the Detroit Metro Convention and Visitors Bureau.

"America thinks we are dying," said Alexander. "Unfortunately, when
you say 'Motor City,' they think that's all we have to offer. People
assume that if the auto industry is dying, Detroit is dying. But give
us a break. If Wall Street is dying, you don't say 'New York is dying.'"

Except New York is more than Wall Street. Detroit for decades hasn't been much more than cars.

The media hotel for this weekend, the Marriott, is in the GM
headquarters building, the Renaissance Center. The ground floor looks like
an auto showroom, with shiny new models here and there. The hallway
walls are embellished with photos of 1953 Cadillacs and 1957 Chevrolets.

The Michigan State players mostly are homeboys, from towns such as
Saginaw, Flint, Rochester, kids whose fathers, and often whose mothers,
built engines or attached axles. They have an understanding of what has
happened, over the years in the factories, the last few weeks on the
basketball courts.

"Detroit has been struggling," said Kalin Lucas, the excellent
sophomore point guard. He is from Sterling Heights, a suburb north of
the city. "A lot of people have been getting laid off and stuff like
that. So us playing here in the final, us being a Michigan team
playing, it can bring a smile to everybody in the city of Detroit."

The Final Four, with a Michigan team. Will this be any more
uplifting than the Stanley Cup, won by a Detroit team, the Red Wings?
Or the 2004 NBA finals, won by the Pistons, a Detroit team? Or the 2006
World Series, in which a Detroit team, the Tigers, was beaten by the
St. Louis Cardinals? Sections of old Tiger Stadium still stand,
resisting dismantling, now that the baseball team has shifted to new
Comerica Park. The NFL Lions last season, resisting dismantling, went an
unprecedented 0-16. Sporting history is never far away in Detroit.

More will be made. Maybe by Michigan State, which as skill and fate would have it, is in a Final Four in its home territory.

The auto industry clings to life. The state of Michigan clings to
Michigan State. So far the Spartans have taken every correct turn on a
road about to end here.

As a reporter since 1960, Art Spander is a living treasure of sports
history. A recipient of the Dick McCann Memorial Award -- given for his
long and distinguished career covering professional football -- he has
earned himself a spot in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. And he has
recently been honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award by the PGA of
America for 2009.

- - - - - -


http://www.realclearsports.com/articles/2009/04/michigan-states-road-end-where-it-once-began.html
© RealClearSports 2009

Newsday: Prahalis showing everyone her game is huge

BY ART SPANDER
Special to Newsday

BERKELEY,
Calif. -- If she had something to prove, as Sammy Prahalis believed she
did, it has been proven. At 5-7, she looks up to most of the women in
college basketball. Then again, as her first season draws to a close,
nobody symbolically looks down on Sammy.

"It doesn't affect me that much," Prahalis -- the former Commack star who now plays point guard for Ohio State -- said of her size. "I go out to play. But I guess, because I am the
smallest, I had something to prove because everyone else is so big."

Prahalis is the Big Ten Freshman of the Year, and she and Big Ten
Player of the Year Jantel Lavender led Ohio State to victory in the
first two rounds of the NCAA Tournament.
Prahalis had a career-high 23 points to go with seven assists in a
first-round victory over Sacred Heart. Ohio State met second-seeded
Stanford late last night in a regional semifinal.

Prahalis, a two-time Long Island Player of the Year and second-team Parade All-American, averaged 30.1
points, 7.7 rebounds and 7.9 assists per game as a senior for Commack
and finished with 2,373 points, second in Suffolk history. Now she has
become the quintessential point guard, making all the pieces fit for
Ohio State.

"Three times I've been in similar situations where freshmen were given the ball," said Jim Foster, who became the Buckeyes'
coach in 2003 after long stints at Vanderbilt and St. Joseph's. "In all
three situations, it was a byproduct of their intensity and how hard
they played.

"Samantha is an absolutely terrific athlete that
people enjoy watching play. She plays the same way at practice as she
does in games. There is no saving herself ... Size is just one aspect
of basketball. I think Samantha [may be] the smallest player on the
court, but I think people will enjoy watching her."

Foster
enjoys utilizing Prahalis' multiple skills. She led the Big Ten in
assists with 5.79 per game and was first in assist-turnover ratio,
seventh in steals and 23rd in scoring at 10.0 points per game.

"I definitely like fast-paced basketball," Prahalis said, and no one
who has seen her would ever argue with that. Her New York accent has
been quite noticeable in Ohio, too. "Yes," she said with a smile, "they
kid me about it."

Nobody chides Prahalis about her style:
aggressive and determined. College ball has been rewarding, especially
since Ohio State won the Big Ten championship.

"High intensity
and a lot of fun," Prahalis said of conference play, which culminated
in a 67-66 win over Purdue in the Big Ten Tournament final March 8.
"But that's what basketball has always been for me. Coming from
Commack, it has been a bit of a change, but not too much."

Prahalis has an attitude, a requisite for anyone who's in command. "You
have to play with one," she agreed when told that Stanford coach Tara
VanDerveer said she is "cocky, in a good way."

"You have to
play with a winning attitude," Prahalis said. "If we play with passion
and confidence, we will be just as good as any team."

Prahalis went up against Stanford freshman Nnemkadi Ogwumike last night. She was Prahalis' roommate last summer on the U.S. team that went 5-0 at the FIBA Championships in Argentina.

"I haven't talked to my teammates about her," Prahalis said of the 6-2
Ogwumike. "She is a really good player. She is long and can run and
very versatile."

For Prahalis, two out of three ain't bad. She
can run and is incredibly versatile. She ranked in virtually every team
statistical category except rebounds.

"It's always been in my head, 'Work hard,"' Prahalis said. "If you work out every day, it will all come out in the end."

No matter the final score of last night's game, it was only the beginning of Prahalis' college career.

"This is something I've been waiting for my entire life - to play in
the NCAAs," Prahalis had said before her first tournament game.

When you're not even 20, an entire life doesn't consist of all that
much - but in her case, it's a tease on how great she eventually can be. team that went 5-0 at the FIBA Championships in Argentina.

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http://www.newsday.com/sports/ny-spsammy296087905mar29,0,4398814.story
Copyright © 2009, Newsday Inc.

Baron comes back, and so do the questions

OAKLAND – He was back, if as a bittersweet
reminder, and so were our questions. So were the "What ifs?" So was the
unavoidable reality that the team that lost Baron Davis hasn't done a
thing without him, and the team that lured him away for an oil sheik's
fortune has done even less.



Baron was out there in the red uniform of the Los Angeles Clippers.
Baron on the floor at Oracle Arena, where he had been a star for the
Warriors.

 

Who lost him last summer, because of a $65 million contract.

    

Or maybe because of their own negligence.

    

Or maybe because they believed they didn't need a 10-year veteran who seemed to be hurt as much as he was healthy.

    

Baron has taken some shots lately in L.A. The figurative kind. There
were those injuries – with Baron, always there are those injuries – and
an apparent lackadaisical attitude.

    

For $65 million, in his hometown, in the place where he went to school, UCLA, Baron was supposed to be a savior.

     

But can anybody ever save the Clippers, the NBA franchise that couldn't and never will?

    

Baron, having missed 15 games, has not been able.

   

Against his old team Tuesday night, Davis had 29 points and seven
assists, but that couldn't stop the Warriors from a 127-120 win.

    

One Los Angeles Times columnist, T.J. Simers, called Baron a
dog. Another, Kurt Streeter, a bit kinder, induced Davis to concede,
"This has been the worst year of my NBA career and the least fun I've
ever had."

  

The basketball cognoscenti might have predicted as much. The Clippers
are not only the second team in a one-team town, virtually undetectable
beyond the Lakers, they are historically inept, a symbol of sporting
incompetence, a punch line of Jay Leno jokes.

   

It's awful for Baron and the Clips (they now have a 16-51 record). It's
not so great for the Warriors either. They've had their own failings,
their own ailments. Management foresaw Monta Ellis as the quite
adequate replacement for Davis, but he missed weeks after that
cockamamie moped accident.

    

What if Baron had stayed? The idea is tossed at Davis, who steps
lightly on a line between diplomacy and disrespect. "I don't know," he
begins. "I'm a real optimistic person. I figured we came off a 48-win
season (in 2008), winning more games each year we were playing
together, so who knows what would have happened.

  

"But I definitely know we would have been in playoff contention and a good team to be reckoned with."

  

Coaches and teammates are different from fans. They judge on individual
merit. The paying customers consider the uniform, "the laundry," as
someone once said.

  

An athlete leaves as a free agent, if free ever should be a reference
when $65 million is concerned, and the people who buy the tickets
consider him a traitor to the cause.

   

Warriors coach Don Nelson said he would be "disappointed" if Baron were
booed in pregame introductions. After all, Nelson contended Baron was
"one of my favorite players" and along with Steve Nash, who Nellie had
at Dallas, the best of the point guards he'd been permitted to coach.

  

Davis was less demanding. "There probably will be a mixed reaction,"
Baron said. "I'll take whatever I can get. I'll be appreciative of the
cheers I do get. It just shows class, the level of mutual respect I
have for the fans and the fans for my time here."

 

Indeed the reaction was mixed but more positive than negative, some
fans, recalling that "We Believe" playoff fantasy of two seasons past,
when Baron indeed was royalty, even offering a standing ovation.

  

In L.A. there is but one basketball hero, Kobe Bryant. Baron was
brought in not so much to counter Kobe the Unconquerable, as create a
presence and – we turn our heads and chuckle in private –  make
the Clips a contender.

  

Baron has been noticed, if not as hoped. But he says what others,
particularly journalists, think of him is not taken personally. Just as
was the occasional jeer Tuesday when he handled the ball.

 

"I let things run off my shoulders," was his response. "I have big
shoulders. I'm here to do one thing, that's to win, to get this team
where it needs to be. That's my mission. So if I'm criticized or
ridiculed, I accept it and use it as motivation to continue to get
better."

   

If that bears a resemblance to one of those Hollywood script speeches,
well, Baron is peripherally involved in the movie business, one of the
reasons we're advised he deserted the Warriors after three and a half
seasons.

 

Baron would speak no ill. Monta Ellis, Davis thinks, "is a great
player," and now powerless general manager Chris Mullin "a legend, a
Hall of Famer, someone who's always going to be in my corner and I'm
going to be in his."

    

Baron's in another sort of corner these days, but the memories are
sustaining. "I have admiration for these fans, the people in the Bay
Area. That playoff run, the fact it brought the whole community
together I'll always have. I'll always be able to cherish."

  

It was great, but it's gone. And unlike Baron, it may not return for a long while.

Shaq and the NBA's good old days

OAKLAND -- Call him what you will --
Diesel, the Big Socrates, or by his name, Shaq. It doesn't matter, if
you don't call him finished. Which people were doing a few months back
in describing Shaquille O'Neal.



Finished? "I've been watching him since he was 15," said Alvin Gentry. "He's never been finished. You saw what he can do."



And what the Phoenix Suns can do. Which is what the critics said they never could do with Shaq in the lineup: run.

   

Turn a basketball game into a track meet. As the Suns did Sunday night,
beating the Golden State Warriors, 154-130. Without any overtimes.

  

It was like the good old days when the NBA was a league of grace, glory
and points, like the days before the game became one of shoving and
bumping and scores in the 90s or the 80s, something more resembling
wrestling than basketball.

   

Phoenix picked up Shaq in a trade just about a year ago, intending to
add muscle to speed. When the plan didn't work, the critics sneered.

    

Shaq and Steve Nash? That's like trying to blend Santa Claus and Tinkerbell.

   

"He's a proud guy," Gentry said of O’Neal. "Everybody felt he was done.
But as you can see, he's still a huge factor. He gives us the best of
both worlds. We can run or we can set up. If you don't double-team him,
he goes inside. If you do, he passes off. Arguably, he's the best big
man who ever played in this league."

   

Against the Warriors, in his second game in two nights – Saturday the
Suns were home against Oklahoma City – 37-year-old Shaq O'Neal,
7-foot-1, 325 pounds, played a few seconds less than 24 minutes and had
26 points. He was 11-of-13 from the field, 4-of-9 from the free throw
line.

   

"I accept all challenges," said O'Neal.

    

He is sitting in front of his locker, looking bemused. The man has a
great sense of humor. Also of timing. As we saw when he danced at the
opening of the All-Star Game program before he became the co-MVP with
Kobe Bryant.

 

"People have been saying I can't do this, can't do that," said O'Neal.
"I have four championships. I would like to get two or three more."

  

The Warriors couldn't match up against Shaq, not with their 7-footer,
Andris Biedrins, recovering from a sprained ankle. The Warriors
couldn't match up against the Suns. Phoenix had 120 points at the end
of three quarters. Say all you want about defense, but offense like
this is delightful.

  

The late Wilt Chamberlain told us again and again, "Nobody roots for
Goliath," and it's true there's a tendency to favor a smaller guy
against a bigger one. But Shaq is lovable, a jester, and for the heck
of it he has a master's degree. He's easy to cheer for.

   

Years ago, in the same building where the Suns crushed the Warriors,
Shaq, then with the Los Angeles Lakers, was telling about his life's
objectives during a break from a late-morning practice.

  

"I'd like to be somebody like Larry Ellison," said O'Neal, alluding to
the head of Oracle, the dot-com giant located down the highway in
Silicon Valley. "Now there's a man with real money."

   

Maybe someday, Shaq responded when reminded of the comment. That still
was a goal. If not quite as realistic as again scoring 40 points, which
he did against Toronto, becoming the third in NBA history to do it in
the uniform of four different teams.

 

A year ago, Shaq averaged 12.9 points in the 28 games he played for the
Suns. "A lot of people thought I lost it," he conceded. "I was injured.
It's kind of funny, when people say I'm injured nobody really believes
me. This is my 17th season, but I've really only played about 13
seasons because of the injuries. I have years left."

   

Earlier in March, one of Shaq's numerous former coaches, Stan Van Gundy
of Miami, whined about O’Neal "flopping" in the lane to draw a foul.
Shaq, the gentle giant, was less than gentle in his reaction.

 

"I heard his comment," Shaq said of Van Gundy. "Flopping to me is doing
it more than one time, and I realized when I tried to take the charge
as I went down, I realized that play reminded me of his whole coaching
career."

 

O'Neal had a better relationship with Warriors coach Don Nelson, for
whom he played on the 1996 U.S. Olympic team. "He was my sixth man,"
said Nelson. "He asked me if he could come off the bench. I said fine.
I love him to death."

  

If Nelson, who eventually was ejected Sunday night with a couple of
quick technical fouls, didn't love what Shaq did to his team. Finished?
Shaquille O'Neal's only just begun.



- - - - - -

© RealClearSports 2009

Warriors fans can be faulted for their passion

OAKLAND,  Calif. -- The crowd wasn't a sellout, but it was large.
Maybe too large. And too passionate. The Golden State Warriors arguably
have the best fans in pro basketball.




To their great disadvantage.




We had a brief interlude, a fling, a couple of years ago. The Warriors,
ending their seasons of silence, qualified for the playoffs, even
stunned the Dallas Mavericks in the first round. Hysteria. Elation.




But it's all in the past.




The Warriors are a bad team once again as this NBA season of '08-'09
wobbles toward the end, a bad team whose coach and star seemingly are
forever in conflict. And yet people don't seem to care.




Because they care too much for the Warriors. And so management resists change.




Don Nelson continues to coach, even if at times he seems rather bothered by the whole idea, other than having a seat of power.




Monta Ellis continues to confront Nelson, contradicting virtually everything Nellie puts forth.




And Chris Mullin continues as general manager, even if through
machinations by Nelson and president Robert Rowell, Mully's viewpoints
are of little consequence.




A mess. Except at the box office. Where it counts the most in pro sports.




Wednesday night, the Warriors played the New Jersey Nets at Oracle
Arena. Beat them, too, 116-112. Before 18,203 fans, who showed up to
scream and hoot and holler for a team that came into the game with
exactly twice as many defeats (42) as victories (21).




Fans who won't be deterred by reality. Fans apparently oblivious to the
private little war between the coach with the dictator's philosophy and
the player, Ellis, with the rebel's brazenness.




Fans who refuse to desert a team that will fail to get to the post-season for the 14th time in 15 years.




The Warriors are the little soap opera that isn't good enough for prime
time but nevertheless can't be ignored. A year ago it was Nellie and
Baron Davis at war, and noting what the Baron has done with the
Clippers, the situation up here could be worse.




This time it's Nellie and Monta. Not to mention Nellie and Jamal Crawford.




Ellis was back from his travels, not to be confused with traveling,
having returned from his home in Mississippi, missing the previous
seven games because of (take your pick) stiffness in the ankle he
injured during the summer in that moped accident or because he was
visiting his sick mother. Nelson said it was the former, Monta the
latter.




"Monta complained three different times, three different games that he
had soreness in his ankle," Nelson insisted before Ellis went out and
picked up 19 points and six assists against the Nets.




"He missed a few games, then he was supposed to come back to us, and he went to visit his mother and that's the story."




Not according to Ellis, who reiterated an earlier statement, "I told you I went to see my mom."




Nelson also said the Warriors would be ridding themselves of Jamal
Crawford, acquired in a trade from the Knicks for Al Harrington,
because Crawford makes $8 or $9 million, too much for a backup guard.




That was before the game. Before Crawford scored 19 points, 15 in the
fourth quarter. "He did most of his damage when running the point,"
conceded Nelson, who explained Crawford had been with the Warriors some
50 games, as if it was about time Jamal did something. Other than toss
in 50 earlier in the schedule.




Nellie has told others he is happiest at games, moving players in and
out, shouting instructions, that practice is as much work for him as
the athletes, not surprising when you've been coaching for decades.




The question might be whether this indeed is Nelson's team or a team
that Nelson tolerates and attempts to maneuver to his own pleasure. It
has long been accepted Nellie doesn't like using rookies, although now
in this season without hope the Warriors are starting Anthony Randolph
at forward.




Don Nelson can be gruff. Don Nelson can be impatient. He's done this
work a long time -- some might say too long -- and there's not a
mistake he hasn't seen or a reporter's irritating question he hasn't
heard.




Asked if the morale on the Warriors, considering the Ellis affair and
the conversation he had with Crawford about the future or lack of same,
is acceptable, Nelson responded immediately.


 


"It's acceptable when you consider the kind of year we've had," said
the coach. "We've won 21 ballgames (now 22), and we've worked hard to
keep the attitude and the morale good. I can't say it's been perfect
but overall it's been very good -- one of the few things we've done
well this year."




Along with packing the house with the best fans in basketball.

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