I can’t lie: I miss the old Ron Artest.
The guy swigging Hennessey at half-time? Sounds like a guy I’d want in my fox-hole. The guy whocan be enraged to the point of starting a brawl in an arena of 20,000 people? Sounds like a guy I want behind me during a banger. Personally, I loved every minute of it. He may have butchered the Pacers franchise, but I’ll be damned if I wasn’t cheering on Ron Artest as he charged that sucker who got caught with cement shoes. (Besides, Pacers fans don’t even exist. I think they were just actors David Stern paid to make the world believe he would actually award a franchise to Indiana).
Act as if you didn’t watch that YouTube clip at least 20 times. (I’d watch the clip of when Jermaine O’Neal dumped that stiff white guy with a stiff black right hand 1000 times before I’d watch a UFC fight, but that’s just me. And any Lakers fan would too—just imagine him gleefully celebrating on the ashes of the Kobe-Lakers dynasty—and you’re telling me that didn’t up the enjoyment of the video by at least 13%?)
But you know who doesn’t miss the old Ron Artest? The NBA at-large.
Ron Artest used (and hell, still probably is) the baddest dude in the NBA. He could guard wing players and bang in the post. He was a monster. If you’ve ever played pick-up basketball—and played against a guy that smells like gin and seems willing to knock your teeth out for every loose ball—Ron Artest was that guy in a 6’8” frame and in the NBA. NOBODY was messing with Artest.
Artest, at his best, transformed all the chaos into just being an all-around intimidating player. There wasn’t a way he COULDN’T go about influencing a game on any given night. When Artest was at his craziest, paradoxically, he was playing his best basketball.
Obviously, the Lakers couldn’t have Ron guzzling Hennessy at half-time of their games. They couldn’t let the Artest-train barrel off the tracks and take the Lakers team with them. It was a calculated risk, and at the end of the day, the Lakers trusted the strength of their organization to rein Artest in. And that they did.
Next: The Motivational Tactics of Phil Jackson
Last year, Artest was the black-sheep brought in to give the defending Lakersan edge. Had he imploded last year, people were lying-in-wait to blame Artest for the Lakers’ failure to repeat. Sometimes Artest played exceptionally well and sometimes he didn’t. In the end though, it was Ron Artest who drove the stake through the heart of the Celtics black hearts, and the rest is history.
This year Artest has been struggling. I think it just comes from him not wanting to step on toes. He knows he’s still under a microscope and has never said anything negative about the team. Artest, has been without a doubt, nothing but a team-first guy since he has arrived.
I think that’s why Artest took offense like he allegedly did when he confronted Phil during practice. I’m sure he got tired of Phil picking on him, while Artest has largely kept his mouth shut.
When I first heard about the encounter, I won’t lie, for a second, Carmelo Anthony in Forum Blue and Gold flashed in my mind—but I quickly came to my senses.
Phil Jackson has pushed things through his bowels that possess more knowledge of NBA coaching than I could ever hope to acquire—but I like to think that Phil knew exactly what he was doing. I think he wanted to get Artest to erupt—to get his edge back.
Artest hasn’t been in-form all season. He’s never taken a minute off mind you, but his offensive game has been struggling, and on the other side, he seems to have lost a ½ a step when guarding quick players on the wings.
You’ve all read articles about how Phil yearns to understand the inner-workings of his players and their minds—that way he can pull from them their best performances and discern positions they thrive in—and I think he’s recognized Artest lost what made him great: his edge.
Ron Artest blowing up on a coach in practice probably wouldn’t even have been Tweet-worthy, had Twitter existed, in 2004. Obviously, Phil doesn’t want to see Artest exploding on him every day—but I think he grinned inside when Artest finally broke down and erupted.
Next: Working Out The Kinks
Fast forward to last night: late in the fourth quarter, the Suns have gone to a zone defense. Kobe springs to the lane, appears to be going for one of his contortionist lay-ups, but springs the ball to the corner—where a wide-open Ron Artest catches the ball.
Keep in mind: this is what will happen in the play-offs. Teams are going to clog the lanes and make Ron Artest and his erratic corner three-point shot beat them.
Artest catches the ball and stutters a bit. You can tell, he’s contemplating if he should shoot or not, and usually, Ron Artest contemplating things on the basketball court leads to bad things. The whole Suns defense basically says: “Screw it, let him have it.” And Artest, after what seemed like 3-5 seconds, hoists the ball into the air.
Splash.
I pumped my fist. Ron Artest! Yes! I never doubted ye!
It capped an 11-point, 4 rebound, 4 assist night for him. He didn’t shoot well—but it was the best game he had played this season. (At least out of the games I’ve watched).
Maybe it was just a good game and one shot against a lousy Suns team in December. Maybe, after being pushed by Phil Jackson, it could be something of a turning point. We shall see.
Next: The Bumpy Road to Glory
There’s a lot going on with this season. The Lakers don’t look interested, Kobe is shooting too much at times, Pau Gasol is huffing and puffing, Lamar Odom seems to want to be on TV a lot, the weight of all the expectations, and on and on and on.
There seems so much uncertainty and chaos surrounding the Lakers. Then you look at the side-lines and you see Jackson, who is simply a sea of tranquility. He’s that way because his travels have made him so. He knows the answer isn’t panic trades or anything erratic or something that can be answered on a 30-second “What’s wrong with the Lake Show?” clip on SportsCenter.
When one has an understanding of his team, as Jackson does, it only requires a dabble of the finger into the well to create the waves needed to make the change.
Jackson used something Artest loathed to spur him to his best game of the year. It’s what he does. And if any man can navigate these turbulent waters for the next three months—it’s Phil Jackson. (And if you happen to doubt that, then put on some shades sometime and take a glance at his fingers).
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