Mr.Bottomtooth
06-22-2007, 11:44 AM
MONSON: Larry Miller on Andrei Kirilenko: 'He needs to grow up'
Time for Andrei to act like a man
By Gordon Monson
Tribune Columnist
Put away childish behavior and become a man. Lose the self-pity. Do his job, prepare to do his job, and put himself back into a position to actually earn his exorbitant pay. Quit whimpering like a puppy and blubbering like a baby and just go to work. There's a difference, after all, between weeping and whining, between sobbing and sniveling, and Kirilenko blew past that delineation more than a few Kleenexes back.
Just ask the owner who fills his bank account.
Larry Miller told me and my radio co-host Kevin Graham on 1280 The Zone on Thursday that he agreed Kirilenko has vast maturing to do: "He hasn't just flat laid down on us. But you used the word[s] - and I'm being tough on him probably, if he doesn't like it, I'm sorry, I'll put my arm around him and tell him I still love him. But he needs to grow up . . . I just hope he will."
If he doesn't, Kirilenko could be gone via a trade, depending on another ominous if - if any other team would take him, given his huge salary, reduced productivity and emotional instability. The Jazz might prefer him simply rediscovering his former self and building from there. Look, I was - maybe we all were - patient with the 26-year-old for a while. Jerry
Sloan can be a stubborn old coot who sometimes pushes and pulls matters too far, too hard, too long. And he should make some accommodation for a player of Kirilenko's magnitude. Listen to him, hear what he has said, make a few adjustments in his offense to allow Kirilenko to touch the ball now and again.
But, for the love of man, Andrei, stop crying.
We've had our fill.
When you look straight into the plaintive eyes of a pro basketball player, a former All-Star who makes max money, a once-unassuming breath of fresh NBA air, and, smack dab in the middle of discussing his role on an emerging, successful team, the plumbing in those peepers clogs, backs up, spits and burps and gurgles, and, then, spills over, it changes a few things about the way you view him.
You now see that player in 3-D, in a darker, daintier, damaging light, the dimmer not just moving, rather throttling toward the negative. You see him as some combination of juvenile, frustrated, distressed, indulged, unable to cope, immature, egocentric, self-possessed, vulnerable, and/or weak. You want either to hand him another tissue and a lollipop, or straightaway kick him in whatever's left of his masculinity. Not solely because he's crying - even burly men find no shame in shedding tears, given appropriate cause - but on account of what he's crying about.
A player repeatedly wailing over the way he is used, over playing time, is too much to take, even if what you don't see in those flooded eyes is apathy and indifference. That last part would be useful, a compliment even, if Kirilenko would adjust and aim his care-factor in a different direction, away from his own ego. Too often, over the larger part of the season past, both regular and post, the lanky forward with the peculiar set of skills aimed his interest inward. He worried too much about himself, in the process hurting his own performance and his team's, as well. In a cross-quotation from Confucius and Mr. T, he who pities himself, pities a fool. Kirilenko is too talented to be a fool, although talented fools in the NBA are hardly an anomaly. He's too well paid, although rich fools are everywhere. He's too good a guy . . . well, isn't he? Used to be. He has too much to offer - on and off the court to allow it to waste away, sinking in the poison filling his competitive heart.
We've all read his complaints, some voiced in English - which Andrei's wife, Masha, said were misinterpreted because they were hatched in Russian and either spoken or taken imprecisely - and some spoken in Kirilenko's native tongue to Russian newspapers and Web sites, where such excuses suddenly are less handy. Most of those complaints boil down to Kirilenko being unhappy with the way Sloan utilizes him.
He was quoted on a Russian site earlier this week as saying: "I made a crucial mistake when the season kicked off. I put up with my role in the team . . . Utah could have gone even farther if Sloan had offered me a helping hand."
I was alone with the player over an extended period at that infamous Jazz practice session in Houston between playoff games, when he utterly broke down. I looked directly in those soaked eyes and saw desperation and desire to contribute, but also a lack of self-awareness and self-accountability mixed with selfishness, too.
"I have no confidence," he said. "None. No. Hell, no . . . When I was All-Star, I wasn't a jump-shooter. I'm not just defensive player. You can't just go and play defense. You have to play offense. It's both ways. You're going both ways. On court, I can't take control."
Whatever. When I first heard those words, I empathized. But the more they bounced around inside my head, and the more I've heard Kirilenko continue to complain about his situation, the more Sloan's solutions to the problem make sense.
"He's got to come and play," said Sloan. "When he doesn't come and play hard, he can blame it on whatever he wants. But all I can say is what I see on the floor. There's times he's played great . . . He can be good all the time if he works at it."
Kirilenko, in slimmer minutes, averaged 8.3 points and 4.7 rebounds this past season. Those numbers have to be embarrassing to a player of his ability. He shot the ball, at times, as though he were loading Maytags onto a delivery truck. Only part of it is Sloan's fault. The coach can and should extend a few more offensive opportunities to his small forward, since he so earnestly seeks them. But Kirilenko was awful through some stretches, during which he was something worse than confused and frustrated.
He was a dog, willing to coast and pout. Kirilenko, then, must rediscover his proper hunger, his shooting touch, build some strength, and add a couple of dependable signature offensive moves around the basket, otherwise the Jazz should unload him. Most of all, he needs to do what he does so well - run the floor, block shots, rebound, play D, be a disruptive force - for his opponents, not his own team and his own coach.
Pre-empting his lingering boyhood is the foremost matter at hand. Replacing emotion with effort, taking responsibility where it should be taken, and playing basketball like a full-grown man.
http://www.sltrib.com/sports/ci_6201991
Time for Andrei to act like a man
By Gordon Monson
Tribune Columnist
Put away childish behavior and become a man. Lose the self-pity. Do his job, prepare to do his job, and put himself back into a position to actually earn his exorbitant pay. Quit whimpering like a puppy and blubbering like a baby and just go to work. There's a difference, after all, between weeping and whining, between sobbing and sniveling, and Kirilenko blew past that delineation more than a few Kleenexes back.
Just ask the owner who fills his bank account.
Larry Miller told me and my radio co-host Kevin Graham on 1280 The Zone on Thursday that he agreed Kirilenko has vast maturing to do: "He hasn't just flat laid down on us. But you used the word[s] - and I'm being tough on him probably, if he doesn't like it, I'm sorry, I'll put my arm around him and tell him I still love him. But he needs to grow up . . . I just hope he will."
If he doesn't, Kirilenko could be gone via a trade, depending on another ominous if - if any other team would take him, given his huge salary, reduced productivity and emotional instability. The Jazz might prefer him simply rediscovering his former self and building from there. Look, I was - maybe we all were - patient with the 26-year-old for a while. Jerry
Sloan can be a stubborn old coot who sometimes pushes and pulls matters too far, too hard, too long. And he should make some accommodation for a player of Kirilenko's magnitude. Listen to him, hear what he has said, make a few adjustments in his offense to allow Kirilenko to touch the ball now and again.
But, for the love of man, Andrei, stop crying.
We've had our fill.
When you look straight into the plaintive eyes of a pro basketball player, a former All-Star who makes max money, a once-unassuming breath of fresh NBA air, and, smack dab in the middle of discussing his role on an emerging, successful team, the plumbing in those peepers clogs, backs up, spits and burps and gurgles, and, then, spills over, it changes a few things about the way you view him.
You now see that player in 3-D, in a darker, daintier, damaging light, the dimmer not just moving, rather throttling toward the negative. You see him as some combination of juvenile, frustrated, distressed, indulged, unable to cope, immature, egocentric, self-possessed, vulnerable, and/or weak. You want either to hand him another tissue and a lollipop, or straightaway kick him in whatever's left of his masculinity. Not solely because he's crying - even burly men find no shame in shedding tears, given appropriate cause - but on account of what he's crying about.
A player repeatedly wailing over the way he is used, over playing time, is too much to take, even if what you don't see in those flooded eyes is apathy and indifference. That last part would be useful, a compliment even, if Kirilenko would adjust and aim his care-factor in a different direction, away from his own ego. Too often, over the larger part of the season past, both regular and post, the lanky forward with the peculiar set of skills aimed his interest inward. He worried too much about himself, in the process hurting his own performance and his team's, as well. In a cross-quotation from Confucius and Mr. T, he who pities himself, pities a fool. Kirilenko is too talented to be a fool, although talented fools in the NBA are hardly an anomaly. He's too well paid, although rich fools are everywhere. He's too good a guy . . . well, isn't he? Used to be. He has too much to offer - on and off the court to allow it to waste away, sinking in the poison filling his competitive heart.
We've all read his complaints, some voiced in English - which Andrei's wife, Masha, said were misinterpreted because they were hatched in Russian and either spoken or taken imprecisely - and some spoken in Kirilenko's native tongue to Russian newspapers and Web sites, where such excuses suddenly are less handy. Most of those complaints boil down to Kirilenko being unhappy with the way Sloan utilizes him.
He was quoted on a Russian site earlier this week as saying: "I made a crucial mistake when the season kicked off. I put up with my role in the team . . . Utah could have gone even farther if Sloan had offered me a helping hand."
I was alone with the player over an extended period at that infamous Jazz practice session in Houston between playoff games, when he utterly broke down. I looked directly in those soaked eyes and saw desperation and desire to contribute, but also a lack of self-awareness and self-accountability mixed with selfishness, too.
"I have no confidence," he said. "None. No. Hell, no . . . When I was All-Star, I wasn't a jump-shooter. I'm not just defensive player. You can't just go and play defense. You have to play offense. It's both ways. You're going both ways. On court, I can't take control."
Whatever. When I first heard those words, I empathized. But the more they bounced around inside my head, and the more I've heard Kirilenko continue to complain about his situation, the more Sloan's solutions to the problem make sense.
"He's got to come and play," said Sloan. "When he doesn't come and play hard, he can blame it on whatever he wants. But all I can say is what I see on the floor. There's times he's played great . . . He can be good all the time if he works at it."
Kirilenko, in slimmer minutes, averaged 8.3 points and 4.7 rebounds this past season. Those numbers have to be embarrassing to a player of his ability. He shot the ball, at times, as though he were loading Maytags onto a delivery truck. Only part of it is Sloan's fault. The coach can and should extend a few more offensive opportunities to his small forward, since he so earnestly seeks them. But Kirilenko was awful through some stretches, during which he was something worse than confused and frustrated.
He was a dog, willing to coast and pout. Kirilenko, then, must rediscover his proper hunger, his shooting touch, build some strength, and add a couple of dependable signature offensive moves around the basket, otherwise the Jazz should unload him. Most of all, he needs to do what he does so well - run the floor, block shots, rebound, play D, be a disruptive force - for his opponents, not his own team and his own coach.
Pre-empting his lingering boyhood is the foremost matter at hand. Replacing emotion with effort, taking responsibility where it should be taken, and playing basketball like a full-grown man.
http://www.sltrib.com/sports/ci_6201991