duncan228
06-20-2010, 03:21 PM
The remarkable journey of Ron Artest (http://www.ocregister.com/articles/angeles-254248-artest-journey.html)
By Jeff Miller
The Orange County Register
The journey was complete, all the effort, time and emotion invested netting a championship.
But we aren’t talking about the Lakers.
The comeback was complete, as well, the inspired rally from being down big with only everything there to be lost.
No, again not the Lakers.
We’re talking about just one Laker today, not the rest of them, because they’d all been here before.
Ron Artest, he hadn’t been here. His journey and his comeback were unlike each of theirs.
His journey and his comeback were unlike any in the history of this league, maybe even the history of American sports.
Ron Artest was the best thing in the NBA 5˝ years after he was the worst thing the NBA had ever seen.
Lakers coach Phil Jackson even called Artest the MVP of Game 7, a game, we might add, that featured at least five players who will be in the Hall of Fame.
But on Nov. 19, 2004, and the days immediately thereafter, the only three letters anyone was attaching to Artest’s name were S, O and B. And that was from the people who were being kind.
Others demanded a lifetime ban, called for police action against Artest or wondered why he was a free man in the first place.
Artest’s role in The Malice in the Palace is part of this league’s history. On Thursday night at Staples Center, he did everything he could to make the incident feel like history more than ever before.
Think back to that night in Auburn Hills, Mich., when Artest, after a hard foul on Detroit’s Ben Wallace and Wallace’s retaliatory shove, protested by reclining atop the scorer’s table.
Within seconds, a Pistons fan threw something at Artest and, in less than a second, the then-Indian Pacer charged into the crowd and started swinging.
The result: A suspension that would cost Artest 86 games – the longest non-drug dismissal in league history – and nearly $7 million in salary.
So, that 13-point deficit the Lakers faced Thursday against Boston? Artest has stared at worse.
Maybe that’s why he was so animated – just so damn happy – in the aftermath. Pau Gasol cried, Kobe Bryant howled and even Sasha Vujacic jumped on the scorer’s table and growled.
But Artest mostly just smiled, grinning in a way that suggested he couldn’t have stopped even if he tried.
His postgame news conference was a giggle-fest – part Friday night frat boy, part Christmas morning child.
He thanked God, his psychiatrist and “everybody in my ’hood.” He told the media: “You don’t seem excited. I’m leaving. I’m all excited. I feel like the oddball.” Noticing a special Laker-themed cereal box nearby he shouted, “I got Wheaties!”
“I’ll be here all day,” Artest announced. “Well, not all day because I do want to go to the club, so I’ll stay for awhile.”
It was overwhelming joy, absolutely unbridled, something rarely seen in professional sports, even on nights when teams win titles. Along with all those champagne bottles, Artest had been uncorked.
It wasn’t just his voice filling the room but also his glow. Soon enough, it was his family doing so.
Artest, suddenly surrounded on stage, interrupted a sportswriter’s question in order to introduce his wife, daughter, son, sister – “She got to meet Kobe. She’s so happy.” – mom, dad and big brother.
After the final question, Artest said, “That’s it? I’m done? See you later. Come to the club!”
This Lakers’ Ron Artest is now Ron Artest as never before, as champion. But this Lakers’ Ron Artest also is Ron Artest like always.
Along with the child, you get the childishness. Along with the youthful spirit, you get the juvenile behavior.
But in the end, it all worked out for the Lakers, who sought Artest the instant Trevor Ariza left for Houston. It worked out because the team successfully defended its crown after making only a single personnel change.
He was better than many of us figured he’d be and, at the same time, not quite as good. Better with everything off the court, with the nonsense after the whistle, with his teammates. But, wow, that outside shot can kill the Lakers as easily as the opposition.
Artest was Artest until the end, calling Game 7 “one of the best games of I don’t even know,” talking about “the history of me” and thanking his psychiatrist again.
What other athlete – speaking to a world-wide audience – thanks his psychiatrist repeatedly?
“I love him,” Bryant said. “Ron kept his poise throughout the season, never let the criticism bother him. He gave us exactly what we needed.”
From flat on his back in suburban Detroit to standing taller than ever just outside Hollywood.
A remarkable comeback for a player some people wanted gone for good.
By Jeff Miller
The Orange County Register
The journey was complete, all the effort, time and emotion invested netting a championship.
But we aren’t talking about the Lakers.
The comeback was complete, as well, the inspired rally from being down big with only everything there to be lost.
No, again not the Lakers.
We’re talking about just one Laker today, not the rest of them, because they’d all been here before.
Ron Artest, he hadn’t been here. His journey and his comeback were unlike each of theirs.
His journey and his comeback were unlike any in the history of this league, maybe even the history of American sports.
Ron Artest was the best thing in the NBA 5˝ years after he was the worst thing the NBA had ever seen.
Lakers coach Phil Jackson even called Artest the MVP of Game 7, a game, we might add, that featured at least five players who will be in the Hall of Fame.
But on Nov. 19, 2004, and the days immediately thereafter, the only three letters anyone was attaching to Artest’s name were S, O and B. And that was from the people who were being kind.
Others demanded a lifetime ban, called for police action against Artest or wondered why he was a free man in the first place.
Artest’s role in The Malice in the Palace is part of this league’s history. On Thursday night at Staples Center, he did everything he could to make the incident feel like history more than ever before.
Think back to that night in Auburn Hills, Mich., when Artest, after a hard foul on Detroit’s Ben Wallace and Wallace’s retaliatory shove, protested by reclining atop the scorer’s table.
Within seconds, a Pistons fan threw something at Artest and, in less than a second, the then-Indian Pacer charged into the crowd and started swinging.
The result: A suspension that would cost Artest 86 games – the longest non-drug dismissal in league history – and nearly $7 million in salary.
So, that 13-point deficit the Lakers faced Thursday against Boston? Artest has stared at worse.
Maybe that’s why he was so animated – just so damn happy – in the aftermath. Pau Gasol cried, Kobe Bryant howled and even Sasha Vujacic jumped on the scorer’s table and growled.
But Artest mostly just smiled, grinning in a way that suggested he couldn’t have stopped even if he tried.
His postgame news conference was a giggle-fest – part Friday night frat boy, part Christmas morning child.
He thanked God, his psychiatrist and “everybody in my ’hood.” He told the media: “You don’t seem excited. I’m leaving. I’m all excited. I feel like the oddball.” Noticing a special Laker-themed cereal box nearby he shouted, “I got Wheaties!”
“I’ll be here all day,” Artest announced. “Well, not all day because I do want to go to the club, so I’ll stay for awhile.”
It was overwhelming joy, absolutely unbridled, something rarely seen in professional sports, even on nights when teams win titles. Along with all those champagne bottles, Artest had been uncorked.
It wasn’t just his voice filling the room but also his glow. Soon enough, it was his family doing so.
Artest, suddenly surrounded on stage, interrupted a sportswriter’s question in order to introduce his wife, daughter, son, sister – “She got to meet Kobe. She’s so happy.” – mom, dad and big brother.
After the final question, Artest said, “That’s it? I’m done? See you later. Come to the club!”
This Lakers’ Ron Artest is now Ron Artest as never before, as champion. But this Lakers’ Ron Artest also is Ron Artest like always.
Along with the child, you get the childishness. Along with the youthful spirit, you get the juvenile behavior.
But in the end, it all worked out for the Lakers, who sought Artest the instant Trevor Ariza left for Houston. It worked out because the team successfully defended its crown after making only a single personnel change.
He was better than many of us figured he’d be and, at the same time, not quite as good. Better with everything off the court, with the nonsense after the whistle, with his teammates. But, wow, that outside shot can kill the Lakers as easily as the opposition.
Artest was Artest until the end, calling Game 7 “one of the best games of I don’t even know,” talking about “the history of me” and thanking his psychiatrist again.
What other athlete – speaking to a world-wide audience – thanks his psychiatrist repeatedly?
“I love him,” Bryant said. “Ron kept his poise throughout the season, never let the criticism bother him. He gave us exactly what we needed.”
From flat on his back in suburban Detroit to standing taller than ever just outside Hollywood.
A remarkable comeback for a player some people wanted gone for good.