NEW YORK, April 18, 2005 -- “Overachiever” is an understatement when it comes to characterizing Malik Rose. In fact, it’s safe to say that, in the history of the league, no other NBA player was the self-confessed “third best player” on his high school team -- particularly when “of the first two, one of them is just a regular working guy right now. And the other one is, I’m not quite sure, either in jail or dead,” according to Rose.
“Tough” is a spot-on way to characterize Rose who hails from a merciless South Philly neighborhood where, very simply, you either scrapped or failed to survive. But ”surprising” is also an accurate adjective: “My greatest role model was, no, not Michael Jordan, or Julius Erving, or even my buddy Charles (Barkley),” Rose says. “It was my Mom. That’s where I get my sense of perseverance. She always told me ‘it’s not how many times you get knocked down in life it’s how long you stay there. Just pick yourself up, dust yourself off and keep going.”
Mom’s magic may also be why off the court this nails-chewing defender is about as tough as SpongeBob Squarepants. At Radio City Music Hall (where Rose shot some episodes of “NBA on The Wheel Of Fortune”) the soft-spoken, classy gentleman smiles as smile that could melt Scrooge’s heart as he tousles the Newsday cub reporters’ hair after they conclude interviewing him. “You guys did a wonderful job,” Rose tells the nine year-olds. “I am really impressed. I am sure I’m going to see you as big-time journalists soon.” Then he places a soft peck on the top of the bedazzled trio’s heads.
Rose is so down-to-earth, he’s practically in a hole. Which is, of course, pretty much where he fought his way out of his entire life.
One of seven kids growing up in an inner city ‘hood with a single mother. A brother killed in the streets when Malik was just 13. An outstanding musician -- Carnegie Mellon offered him a MUSIC scholarship -- and student in high school in spite of it all. A Divison I. college hoopster who was once cut from his high school team as a freshman. A small-school basketball semi-talent (at Drexel), playing in a college conference -- the Northeast -- no self-respecting NBA scout could even find on the map. A too-small NBA forward-center who insists on guarding Shaq. A winner of the NBA championship (with the San Antonio Spurs) without natural NBA gifts.
Growing up, the now 6-6 Rose looked up to Barkley because “he was the same size I was but played way over his height.” The Round Mound of Rebound had a world of talent, of course -- while Malik had to conquer the world through world-class will and perseverance.
The teenaged Rose was a waiter at the 76-ers Basketball Camp when Barkley and other Sixers came to speak to the campers. “Charles didn’t like what we were serving for lunch so I made about a dozen peanut-butter sandwiches for him,” smiles Rose. “What can I tell you? That’s what the man wanted. And he never let me forget it either: ‘Ah, you are the kid with the peanut butter sandwiches!’ he’s razzing as he’s backing me down and keeps on scoring over me when I played him as a rookie in Charlotte.”
Not many players back down or score over Rose any longer as the versatile forward has worked his way into becoming one of the finest defenders in the game. “From the beginning, I knew that was my ticket,” he nods his head intensely. “So I worked on it non-stop. My high school coach was always dissecting the principles of zone and man-to-man for us, and I listened. And Bill Herrion, my coach at Drexel, was a Bobby Knight-clone always preaching defense. He wouldn’t let you take any short cuts. He’d let you know about it if you were taking off a play.”
“I’m not the quickest or the biggest guy in the world,” adds Rose. “But Herrion, he taught me how to play angles, how to use my body, everything. Then, in the pros, I played under Coach (Dave) Cowens and Coach (Gregg) Popovich, fortunately for me, both extremely defensive-minded coaches. So I showed them I can stop people. That’s how a no-name makes it in this league.”
During each off-season, Rose would work on the other parts of his game. “I had to show them I had a little bit of offense,” he says. After riding the pine in his first two NBA seasons, his scoring and rebounding numbers increased in each of his next six, from 3.0 and 1.7 all the way to 10.4 and 6.4. AND those numbers barely begin to tell of Rose’s true importance to a team: “He’s relentless,” power forward Kurt Thomas says. “Malik is one of the most non-stop players in the history of the NBA. He is an impossible match-up.” He’s become that by working impossibly hard. “There are, what, maybe 430 jobs in the entire NBA,” explains Rose. “And millions -- now maybe tens of millions all over the world -- want them.”
“So you’ve got to work on your skills year round,” he adds. “It’s not a seasonal job. You must stay in shape, get better, and stay sharp.” Consequently, whenever Tim Duncan (or center David Robinson) was out injured in San Antonio, alleged defensive specialist Rose would average a double double. “TD and I, we’d guard each other in practice,” smiles Rose. ”I had to score over him and The Admiral. That’s how you become better, by going up against the best day after day after day.”
Not surprisingly, the game’s most unassuming superstar (Duncan) and most unassuming player (Rose) also became best friends off the court. “TD is all class,” says Rose. “The way he carries himself is exemplary -- plus we’re both very compe ive in whatever we do. In the summer we participate in paint-ball tournaments all the time. We love each other as friends-- and in paint-ball he wants to destroy me.”
Rose sees the Knicks as close to San Antonio talent-wise, “though we are going to have Kurt (Thomas) or (Michael) Sweetney killed one of these days if we don’t get a big defensive center,” he says. “That is our number one need.” The leadership derived from world championship experience that Rose provides could be invaluable in New York’s eventual rise to the top. “I’m not much of a talk guy,” he smiles. ”It’s not my personality – and I don’t think that works, anyway. I lead by example. If you want to watch me, work with me, do what I do after practice, I’ll always be there for you. The one guy I do talk to a lot, however, is Trevor (Ariza). He’s 19 (years old), and he wants to know things. What a great talent. What a great kid.”
Back at Radio City, one of the nine year-olds shyly asks Rose where he attended college. “I went to Drexel,” he smiles. “It’s a terrific engineering school.” Have any other players made it to the NBA from there, a little voice inquires. “I’m not sure,” says Rose. “Maybe a few. It’s possible.”
No, it’s not – and of course he’s sure. There hasn’t been another Drexel player at an NBA game without a ticket in several eons. Except Rose, a truly exceptional person who has translated his exceptional personality into NBA championship talent.
Malik is a class act, I met him on a visit to Drexel where I am a professor last year. Wish him all the best and I believe ultimetely we might one day see him back in a Spurs uniform or a coach mentoring a budding semi-star in Nazr or other bigs. = how cool would that be!
wow. In a tough, smart basketball town (where "cagers" was coined), Malik is appreciated.
So, the trauma of the trade has played out (at least for healthy people), and both players are happy and providing to their teams exactly what they were traded for, Malik for hustle and toughness and defense, and Nazr for rebounding, interior D (Nazr the non-shot blocker is a blocking surprise), and $$$ relief.
Malik the person is missed, but the Spurs and Knicks GMs knew a bunch more about what they were doing than some Spurs fans.
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