Dennis Rodman could have been better

It’s kind of ironic to note that Dennis Rodman was a second-round pick of the 1986 NBA Draft. The fascinating part about this that in the most doomed draft in history, some unknown dude from some college called Southeastern Oklahoma State University would go on to have the best NBA career.

To look at the 1986 NBA Draft in the moment was to see the deepest and most talented collection of players assembled at one specific time and place. And yet between the death, personal destruction, addiction and the misplaced expectation, the entire group seems linked as if some sort of perverse Shakespearean tragedy.

How could so much go so wrong for so many people?

Just look at the list of names of young men who were headed for the NBA during June of 1986. At the top of the list were Brad Daugherty and Len Bias. Daugherty, of course, was supposed to be drafted by the 76ers, but, as the legend goes, former team owner Harold Katz had the No. 1 pick over to house to play some hoops on his indoor court and thought he was, “soft.” Because of that, Katz traded the rights to Daugherty, Moses Malone and Terry Catledge, the draft picks that turned out to be Georgetown/UNLV product Anthony Jones and Harvey Grant, only to get back Roy Hinson, Jeff Ruland and Cliff Robinson.

It very easily was the worst day of trading by the Sixers, ever, and that’s before we figure in the fact that Daugherty averaged 19 points and 10 rebounds a game for his entire career.

The story of Bias, of course, we all know all too well. Of course the one part of Bias’ death that is often overlooked in the long form pieces and documentaries is that without him, the Celtics were in disarray for a solid decade. Moreover, his death also sacrificed significant chunks of the careers of Larry Bird and Kevin McHale, whose declines came much quicker than if they had Bias to lean on.  

There were others, too. The No. 3 pick, Chris Washburn, lasted just 72 NBA games over three seasons and struggled with addiction for more than a decade. Big East superstars Pearl Washington and Walter Berry turned out to be casualties of the east-coast hype machine, while top 10 selections Kenny Walker, Roy Tarpley, Brad Sellers and Johnny Dawkins, had middling careers in the league, at best.

Even some of the players drafted behind Rodman were met with tragedy. Drazen Petrovic was killed in a car accident on the Autobahn nearly a decade before his posthumous induction into the Hall of Fame. Three years ago, Portland’s big man Kevin Duckworth died of congestive heart failure at age 44.

The 1986 Draft was so bizarre that one of its best standouts, Arvydas Sabonis, had to wait for Glasnost in order to make his way to America almost 10 years after he was taken as the last pick of the first round. By the time he got to the league he was already at the end of his prime and had many wondering what might have been.

But then that’s the overreaching theme of the entire mix from ’86.

So this was the backdrop from which Dennis Rodman entered the league. Moreover, given the demons he battled off the court it’s amazing that the one player from that draft to play a complete career and then gain induction to the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame is The Worm, Dennis Rodman.

According to reports as well as Rodman himself, the 6-foot-7 defensive and rebounding specialist got the votes needed amongst the 12 finalists to gain enshrinement. Word is Tex Winter also will be a Hall of Famer, along with Chris Mullin and former Sixers player and coach, Maurice Cheeks. Philadelphia University head coach and shooting guru, Herb Magee, was one of the 12 finalists. Considering Magee has more wins in NCAA basketball than any coach in history, he has a pretty strong shot to get in, too.

The official announcement is scheduled for noon on Monday.

Nevertheless, the election of Rodman is what most folks will talk and debate about until his enshrinement. He’s one of those players whose career stats both work for and against him. Sure, he led the league in rebounding average seven times, grabbed more than 13 per game over 14 seasons and owns five of the best eight rebounding seasons in the modern era, with the other three posted by Hall of Famers Malone, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and Elvin Hayes. Rodman was the defensive player of the year twice, all-defense first team seven times, a two-time All-Star and a five-time NBA champ.

If defense, rebounding and championships matter, Rodman’s penchant for doing the dirty work should be enough to get him in. With Detroit and Chicago, teams that were contenders with strong leaders, i.e., Isiah Thomas and Michael Jordan, Rodman was the perfect teammate and ultimate team player.

Rodman was not an all-around player, though. He was a specialist on one side of the court, but when his team had the ball he was largely useless except for fighting for offensive boards. He scored little more than seven points per game and had one season where he averaged double-digits in scoring. In the rare chance that Rodman actually had to shoot a jumper, his form looked like a catapult or slingshot than a pure, smooth jump shot.

Worse, there were two seasons with San Antonio where Rodman’s antics on the floor may have sabotaged the team’s chances at a title. It wasn’t until the Spurs got rid of Rodman and rebuilt the roster—and drafted Tim Duncan—that they won three titles in seven seasons.

“He was annoying,” Spurs teammate and Hall-of-Famer, David Robinson said. “He just would be in your shorts all the time, always there with you. He was a very, very strong guy—a little bit undersized at times, but he never let it stop him. He had relentless energy, and he had no fear.”

It was also around that time when Rodman began his makeover. In fact, he was one of the first NBA players to turn his body into a canvass of tattoos, a now ubiquitous fashion trend in pro sports. He also piled up the technical fouls at an alarming rate and often led the league in that category until Rasheed Wallace came around. But not even Wallace was as combustible as Rodman, who earned fines and suspensions for head-butting a ref, kicking a cameraman, and taking off from the Bulls before a game in the NBA Finals in order to wrestle with Hulk Hogan.

There was even some sort of fling with Madonna.

“I just took the chance to be my own man … I just said: ‘If you don’t like it, kiss my ass.’ Most people around the country, or around the world, are basically working people who want to be free, who want to be themselves. They look at me and see someone trying to do that... I'm the guy who's showing people, hey, it's all right to be different. And I think they feel: ‘Let’s go and see this guy entertain us.’”

But unlike his gritty work on the floor and glass, Rodman’s sideshow antics and outbursts seemed contrived and even a bit phony. Despite his rebellious image, Rodman seemed used up and on some sort of money grab with books and appearances in wedding dresses or shotgun marriages in Vegas. People who didn’t know anything about basketball knew who Rodman was and assumed he was better than he really was because of all the media exposure. In reality, it was an act.

It seemed like more than anything Rodman needed attention—maybe even more so than something substantive.

Still, when his head was right and Thomas or Jordan had him focused, Rodman won big games. During the 1996 Finals, he could have been the series MVP by grabbing 20 and 19 rebounds in games 2 and 6 with a record 11 offensive boards in both games. After the series, Seattle’s coach George Karl said Rodman won those two games all by himself.

It would be nice if Rodman is most remembered for how he played or the fact that he grabbed more available rebounds than any player in NBA history. He could play when he wasn’t distracted or had some other outside motivation and distractions. When he had his uniform No. 10 retired by the Pistons last weekend, Rodman admitted he could have been better. During the press conference at the ceremony in Detroit, Rodman said he “didn’t deserve to have the number retired” since he could have done so much more.

“I didn't fully understand the value I had for this organization,” he said.

Was he valuable enough to warrant election to the Hall of Fame? Apparently so.

Could he have been even better?

Definitely so.

Primoz Brezec, we hardly knew ye

When one thinks back on the historical significance ofsome of the mega-deals that have gone down in the name of basketball in this town, it almost leaves a guy breathless. Ponder for a moment the fact that two teams with origins in Philadelphia traded away Wilt Chamberlain when he was in the prime of his career…

Not once, but twice!

Imagine that—arguably the greatest individual talent ever to play basketball was traded from the Warriors to the Sixers for Connie Dierking, Paul Neumann, Lee Shaffer and cash before going from the 76ers to the Lakers for Jerry Chambers, Archie Clark and Darrall Imhoff. The first trade came a season after Wilt led the league in scoring with nearly 35 points per game and 23 rebounds, while the second one came two seasons after the Sixers won their first NBA title (third for a Philly team) and the big man went for 24-24 and led the league in assists.

But just like that, he was gone. Poof!

Trading away Wilt Chamberlain was hardly the most dubious deal in the history of Philadelphia NBA teams. Nope, not even close. Ever hear the story about how Maurice Cheeks was traded in August of 1989 to the Spurs, only Mo didn’t know about it until he arrived back at his house and found a reporter there waiting at his doorstep. Go ahead and ask Michael Barkann about that one sometime because he was the guy who broke the news to Cheeks.

No word if Michael B tracked down Christian Welp and David Wingate, too, to tell them they were packaged with Cheeks to get Johnny Dawkins and Jay Vincent.

Charles Barkley was traded simply because he had outgrown Philadelphia and probably would have been arrested for aggravated assault on Armen Gilliam if he had to stay another day longer. The Barkley deal returned the Sixers Jeff Hornacek, Andrew Lang and Tim Perry, which is the basketball equivalent to trading Curt Schilling for Travis Lee, Omar Daal, Vicente Padilla and Nelson Figueroa.

Sometimes trades have to be made for the sanity of everyone who remains. Barkley and Schilling had to go for just that very reason—we needed to stay sane and so did they. However, on the scale of trades that should have warranted the state to step in and send owner Harold Katz upstate to the nervous hospital for a little vaca, the deal on draft day of 1986 is an all-timer.

Whenever I think about the Deal of ’86, I think of it two different ways. In one I look at it kind of like Robert E. Lee meeting Ulysses Grant in the courthouse at Appomattox in 1865 to sign the papers signaling the end of the Civil War. Then Lee slowly rode off on that white horse of his and wandered around in the wilderness until it was time to check out.

The other thing I think of is the Saturday Night Live sketch from the ‘90s when Kevin Nealon and Victoria Jackson play interviewers who ask dumb politicians deftly worded questions about just how far they can shove their heads into their derriere. Always gets a giggle, though in real life it’s not so funny.

Think about it—in one day the Sixers traded Hall-of-Famer Moses Malone and solid frontcourt man Terry Catledge to Washington and then sent the No. 1 overall pick of the deep (yet cursed) 1986 draft to Cleveland. The pick turned out to be perennial All-Star Brad Daugherty. Maybe the Sixers somehow knew that Daugherty’s Hall-of-Fame career would be cut short at age 28 because of back injuries? Or maybe they didn’t want a guy who got 21-and-11 during the last four years of his career?

Either way, the Sixers turned away Moses Malone, Brad Daugherty and Terry Catledge, plus two first-round draft picks and got back Roy Hinson, Cliff Robinson and Jeff Ruland…

No, there’s no punch line. That really happened!

I still can’t believe the Spectrum wasn’t overrun with an angry mob out of an old movie like It’s a Wonderful Life with folks screaming for Harold Katz as if he were the miserly Old Man Potter. Why weren’t there riots?

So it is above the din of discontent that we recall the inglorious days of yore when our NBA team out-smarted itself and ruined things for a while. In the aftermath of Wilt going to the Lakers, the Sixers set the record for the worst season in the history of the sport with just 9 wins in 1973. And, perhaps, maybe it’s even reasonable to think that the Sixers have never really recovered from Draft Day of ’86. Why not? In addition to losing two Hall-of-Fame quality players, they also gave up two first-round draft picks and picked up Jeff Ruland, who went on to play just 18 games over the course of five years. Current Sixers’ GM Ed Stefanski knows that if he puts his hand over an open flame and keeps it there for a bit, it’s not going to end well.

Smart right?

Maybe. But then again, maybe not. After all, at 20-33 these Sixers are going nowhere fast. They are too good to benefit from the draft and too bad to do anything of note in the playoffs. Moreover, two players—Elton brand and Andre Iguodala—have contracts that aren’t very conducive to a team hoping to rebuild in the current salary-capped NBA. I think I called it NBA DMZ a few days ago. Basketball limbo might be a better term.

With the majority of fans hoping the team would unload a valuable player, but cap-unfriendly guy like Iguodala for any number of teams we heard about on the rumor mill (and confirmed by the GM) in order to acquire the coveted expiring contract so favored in these crazy times, it was funny to hear the reaction to an actual deal. No, funny is not the right word there because it implies that a good time was had by all. Let’s just say it was fascinating to couch the reaction from the fans against the words from Stefanski. See, the GM thinks his team is underachieving and isn’t as bad as the 20-33 record indicates.

No argument here.

However, if the GM makes a deal he doesn’t want to give up Iguodala for Jeff Ruland. Sure-and-steady Eddie wants some talent back in a trade, too. Why wouldn’t he? Good for him.

“For us to take back expiring contracts for talent didn’t make much sense, and it would not have gotten us close to a lot of the team [much further under the cap],” Stefanski explained.

Fair enough. So when the only deal at the trade deadline is one which the Sixers sent Royal Ivey, Primoz Brezec and a second-round pick to the Milwaukee Bucks for guard Jodie Meeks and center Francisco Elson, well, let’s just say it feels a bit underwhelming. In fact, it feels a bit disappointing, too. I mean, think of all those little kids out there talking about, “Roy-al with Cheese!” and sporting those Primoz jerseys with ol’ number whatever he was on the back.

Nobody ever thinks about the kids.

In light of the mega-deal, I solicited opinions from the man on the street (via Twitter) for thoughts on the deadline blockbuster… this is what I got back:

A fellow named Robert from Philadelphia asked, “Who are the Sixers?”

Oh come on, we know… but do we really know them. They never let us get close enough.

A man who calls himself Kevin from Philadelphia seemed most distraught, writing: “Just when I got my Royal Ivey jersey...”

Isn’t that how it always works?

A guy named Dan from Delaware astutely pointed out that Francisco Elson speaks five different language, including his native tongue, Dutch, says this fact will help him in Philly: “He can translate DNP-CD however he likes.”

After that the responses just got weird and I kind of checked out after the one from a guy who describes himself as a “Philly Phanatic,” who asked: “Is the real Ed Stefanski in a cave somewhere and actually Billy King has pulled a 'Face Off' switcheroo?”

When we start comparing the 2009-10 Sixers to a Travolta/Cage vehicle, it's time to stop.

Yes, the trading deadline can send us all off the deep end, but at least this time we didn’t have to go for the torches and pitchforks to storm whatever it is to strom.

Forget the draft (just win, baby!)

Even though the 76ers are playing some decent basketballlately and slowly making up ground for the No. 8 seed in the Eastern Conference playoff picture, some fans of the team are actually aghast. Winning games and slipping into the playoffs doesn’t serve these guys well, the argument goes.

There is some logic to that, but not much. Sure, the Sixers might be able to add a missing piece to help build for the future, however, even if they lose every game for the rest of the season they have a small shot at nabbing the top pick.

So what’s wrong with making the playoffs? Based on the Sixers’ draft history winning ball games and trying to rebuild with free agents (always difficult to do with the NBA’s salary cap) might be the best tact.

Sure, we know all about the recent picks like Jrue Holliday, Marreese Speights, Thaddeus Young, Lou Williams, Andre Iguodala and Sam Dalembert, who are all solid players and should help the team in the future. All of those players were selected well out of the top 10 picks (except for Iguodala) from draft classes that weren’t known for being particularly deep, so in that regard the team did pretty well.

It’s just when the Sixers get into the top handful of picks where things get crazy. Yes, Allen Iverson was the top overall pick in 1996 and he’s headed for the Hall of Fame, and Charles Barkley was taken fifth overall in the famous 1984 draft. But for every Iverson and Barkley there is a Shawn Bradley, Sharone Wright, Charles Smith, Keith Van Horn, Marvin “Bad News” Barnes and whatever the hell that was in 1986.

Indeed, June hasn’t been the kindest month for the Sixers.

Just look at what happened from 1973to 1975 where the Sixers had four picks in the top five and six first-round selections. That’s where following the NBA-record nine-win season the team took Doug Collins with the top pick in ’73 (not bad), took Roman Catholic and St. Joe’s alum Mike Bantom with the fourth-pick before it was disallowed for some reason[1], and then snagged Raymond Lewis from California State University at Los Angeles at No. 18.

Collins, of course, was a four-time All-Star and scored 22 points per game in during the run to the Finals in 1977. However, injuries ended Collins’ career before he turned 30. Bantom spent nine seasons in the NBA before closing out his career with the Sixers in 1982. Instead of latching on with the ’83 title team, Bantom played in Italy.

The dubiousness of the ’73 draft was trumped in a big way in 1974 where the Sixers took Bad News Barnes with the second overall pick. It actually might have been an interesting pick had Barnes not jumped to the Spirit of St. Louis in the ABA before becoming the poster child for the era of bad behavior in the 1970s.

In the history of nicknames, Barnes’ was perfect. During his rookie season with St. Louis, he disappeared for days presumably to renegotiate his contract—in the middle of his first season, no less. After days off the grind (much easier to do in 1974), Barnes was finally located with his agent in a pool hall in Dayton, Oh.

They always turn up in the first place you should look…

Barnes played in just 315 pro games, made the playoffs once in the ABA and appeared in two ABA All-Star Games. That was when he was in relative control. When Barnes was in full Bad News mode, it was pretty dark. Check out this interview he gave to Fanhouse last December:

"I was making 40 to 50 grand a week [selling] the drugs,'' said Barnes. "I was making so much money (in the selling of marijuana) it was hard to stay focused (on basketball).''

Barnes said he served as an investor with drug kingpin Paul Edward Hindelang Jr., who would later cooperate with the government and forfeit $50 million in drug-trafficking proceeds. Barnes said Hindelang's right-hand man was Roosevelt Becton, a friend of the basketball player whom he describes as the "godfather'' who "ran St. Louis.''

"Hindelang was the guy who started the 'mother ship,' which would park five miles away and boats would shoot for the (Colombia) shore,'' Barnes said. "He got a two-ton freighter a bunch of us (contributed for financially). Then it would go down and buy two tons of Colombian marijuana.

"It was the best marijuana. We bought it from the Colombian government for a dollar a pound ... I was investing money (in the operation).''

Talk about wasted talent:

"I was one of the five best players on the planet, period"

"I would have been one of the 50 greatest players of all time,'' said Barnes, 57, who now works with at-risk teenagers in his Men to Men program in his hometown of Providence, R.I., telling them the pitfalls of drugs. "I was one of the five best players on the planet period (with St. Louis). Just ask anybody (from) back then ... I was kicking some butt. ... But I was going on a downhill spiral. I met drug traffickers in St. Louis and they showed me another way of life. And that was detrimental to my basketball career.''

Maybe it wasn’t so bad that Barnes didn’t end up with the Sixers. Imagine Barnes in the frontcourt with Darryl Dawkins and Julius Erving with a team that featured Collins, George McGinnis, World B. Free, Henry Bibby, Steve Mix and Caldwell Jones. That’s a team that could have gone 11 deep with Jellybean Bryant and Harvey Catchings filling roles, too.

Instead, Barnes was a wasted No. 2 pick in a deep draft  where the Sixers could have snapped up any one of the 18 players who went on to play at least 550 games in the NBA. This includes Hall of Famer George Gervin.

The team finished up the three-year stretch of top picks by getting Dawkins with the No. 5 pick before swiping Free in the second round. In 1975, the Sixers did about just as well as they could do, arguably getting the two players that went on to have the best careers of the draft class.

Still, the team didn’t really come together until Doc came aboard in 1976. And despite the loss to the Blazers in the ’77 Finals and to the Lakers in ’80 and ‘82, the championship squad wasn’t built on top draft picks, though Andrew Toney was the No. 8 pick in the 1980 draft.

They got Mo Cheeks late in the second round in 1978, Clint Richardson late in the second in 1979, as well as Franklin Edwards and Mark McNamara late in the first rounds of the 1981 and 1982 drafts. Otherwise, the best Sixers’ team was built with trades and signings… Bobby Jones came from Denver for McGinnis; they bought Doc from the Nets; Marc Iavaroni was signed after the Knicks waived him; and Moses arrived in a trade with Houston in which the Sixers gave up Caldwell Jones and their first pick of the ’83 draft.

Not bad.

If only the Sixers could have drafted as well when given a top pick. Oh sure, Barkley and Iverson were hard to mess up, especially since two of the greatest players ever were taken ahead of Sir Chuck (Hakeem Olajuwon and Michael Jordan). But just imagine what could have been if the Sixers had simply drafted Brad Daugherty with the top pick of the 1986 draft and dropped him into the frontcourt with Barkley and Moses.

Instead, just before it was their turn to make the No. 1 pick, owner Harold Katz sent it to Cleveland for Roy Hinson (yes, Roy Hinson!) before dealing Moses and Terry Catledge to Washington for Cliff Robinson and Jeff Ruland.

/shakes head/

Those trades made little sense in 1986 and make even less sense now.

What were they thinking?

Imagine those three up front with Cheeks and Hersey Hawkins in the backcourt.

Go ahead… we’ll wait.

Now imagine that the Sixers can knock off the Celtics or Pistons as the ‘80s end and instead of taking Christian Welp at No. 16 in 1987, they get Mark Jackson (third all-time in assists) or Reggie Lewis (perennial All-Star before his untimely death). Sure, the No. 3 pick of Charles Smith and subsequent deal for Hawkins worked out, but what if the Sixers would have just kept the pick and taken Mitch Richmond instead. That lineup turns to Moses, Barkley, Daugherty, Cheeks and Richmond.

Sigh!  

Strangely, the Sixers eventually have had a bunch of No. 1 picks in recent years, starting with Iverson, Joe Smith, Derrick Coleman, Elton Brand and Chris Webber.

What? They couldn’t swing a deal for Kwame Brown?

Try this out—from 1990 to 1999 drafts, the Sixers have had 20 top 10 draft picks end up on their roster. Ready for them?

1990—Coleman (No. 1 to New Jersey) and Willie Burton (No. 9 to Miami)

1991—Dikembe Mutombo (No. 4 to Denver)

1992—Jim Jackson (No. 4 to New Jersey) and Clarence Witherspoon (No. 9)

1993—Webber (No. 1 to Orlando), Bradley (No. 2) and Rodney Rogers (No. 9 to Denver)

1994—Donyell Marshall (No. 4 to Golden State), Sharone Wright (No. 6) and Eric Montross (No. 9 to Boston)

1995—Joe Smith (No. 1 to Golden State) and Jerry Stackhouse (No. 3)

1996—Iverson(No. 1)

1997—Keith Van Horn (No. 2) and Tim Thomas (No. 7 to New Jersey)

1998—Robert Traylor (No. 6 to Dallas) and Larry Hughes (No. 8)

1999—Brand (No. 1 to Chicago) and Andre Miller (No. 8 to Cleveland)

So the Sixers certainly have had chances to rebuild with the draft, only it really hasn’t worked out that way. Even the roster for the 2001 run to the Finals was constructed with trades and free-agent moves. Considering that as recently as 1995 to 1997 that the team had a top three pick each year and kept one player longer than two seasons explains all one needs to know about the Sixers in the draft.

Tank it? No t'anks.

---

[1] My research came up small. Why did the Sixers draft Mike Bantom No. 4, have the pick disallowed and then watch Banton go to Phoenix at No. 8?