Artest Mentioned in Graswich Column

mouse

G-League
http://www.sacbee.com/content/news/columns/graswich/story/14199080p-15025527c.html



Smoke out: Sacramento Kings newcomer Ron Artest is surfacing at places other than Morton's restaurant on L Street (he's been there for dinner at least three times in the last two weeks, Morton's staffers report). Ron was passing through the lobby of the Embassy Suites Hotel downtown when Robert Bradshaw spotted the ballplayer. Robert asked if Artest would talk to high school students attending a conference. "He took a good 15 to 20 minutes to meet the students, take pictures with them and sign autographs," Robert said. "Needless to say, the students were extremely excited." The Kings may miss the playoffs this year, but Artest is behaving like a winner. ...


 
mouse said:
http://www.sacbee.com/content/news/columns/graswich/story/14199080p-15025527c.html



Smoke out: Sacramento Kings newcomer Ron Artest is surfacing at places other than Morton's restaurant on L Street (he's been there for dinner at least three times in the last two weeks, Morton's staffers report). Ron was passing through the lobby of the Embassy Suites Hotel downtown when Robert Bradshaw spotted the ballplayer. Robert asked if Artest would talk to high school students attending a conference. "He took a good 15 to 20 minutes to meet the students, take pictures with them and sign autographs," Robert said. "Needless to say, the students were extremely excited." The Kings may miss the playoffs this year, but Artest is behaving like a winner. ...



So, this guy (a perfect stranger) just walks up to Ron and asks him if he has a few minutes for some students? WTG - Ron! What a generous response. :)
 
Way to go Ron you're do everything you can to show that you are here to be a good teammate and a good citizen. Keep it up. Rumble young man Rumble.
 
Ron rules.

It doesn't get out there near enough that he does volunteer/charity stuff, too. Probably again due to partly people holding onto things, too long. ;)
 
captain bill said:
Smoke out? Really? There's gotta be a better way to start a brief about Ron.

Considering the type of stuff Graswich has had about the Kings in the past, I'm not gonna quibble about "smoke out." At least it's not a story about Ron leaving Morton's, kicking a couple of stray dogs, etc.

Nice to see a positive comment about one of our players from R.E.
 
VF21 said:
Considering the type of stuff Graswich has had about the Kings in the past, I'm not gonna quibble about "smoke out." At least it's not a story about Ron leaving Morton's, kicking a couple of stray dogs, etc.

Nice to see a positive comment about one of our players from R.E.

Well, it was a player and not the Maloofs he was talking about....
 
Here is an article about Artest that I thought you would enjoy.
Yes it is over a year old, but it relates to this thread.


http://nl.newsbank.com/nl-search/we...&s_subexpires=02/20/2006 11:32 AM&s_docstart=


A different side of Ron Artest
IN THE BEGINNING: School coaches, teachers, young players describe a man of determination and heart
SEKOU SMITH SEKOU.SMITH@INDYSTAR.COM

NEW YORK -- Take two steps inside the cramped office of LaSalle Academy basketball coach Bill Aberer and he's already fussing.
Aberer's Cardinals are just minutes removed from a 74-55 win over Cardinal Spellman in Buckley Gymnasium, the historic cracker box on Manhattan's Lower East Side where Indiana Pacers All-Star forward Ron Artest starred in high school.

Aside from teaching all day and coaching his team to victory on a wickedly cold and rainy Friday afternoon, Aberer has been besieged with questions from around the country about his former pupil. He said his phone hasn't stopped ringing since the Nov. 19 brawl between Artest and his Pacers teammates and Detroit fans at the Palace of Auburn Hills.

Aberer's answer to all questions is the same: The caricature of Ron Artest seen nightly on TV is not the same Ron Artest he knows.

"I don't know what you are looking for, but if you're here looking for somebody to tear him down, you've come to the wrong place." Aberer says. "The press, the public doesn't know Ron Artest the way we do around here. The way they play it on TV, there's Jack the Ripper, Charles Manson and then Ronnie Artest. It's ridiculous, and I can't stand it.

"It's just wrong. Anyway you want to do it, that's wrong to treat somebody that way. Now, nobody here condones what he did, going into the stands like that. But this kid is nothing like what they are making him out to be, and it's a travesty that no one is telling the truth about him."

The truth?

The truth is quite a few people feel that Artest's season-long suspension, doled out by NBA commissioner David Stern, was justified.

The truth -- Artest has said it himself, countless times -- is Artest alone is to blame for the extensive history of dustups and suspensions that have plagued an otherwise brilliant rise to NBA stardom.

The truth is Ron Artest is the benevolent LaSalle Academy alumnus who returns home to shepherd Cardinals players to the Five Star basketball camp in Pennsylvania every summer, helping pay their way and working tirelessly with them to ensure that they enjoy the same experience he did.

The truth is the same Ron Artest who struck fear into the hearts of fans everywhere when he sprinted into the crowd that night in Detroit is the same Ron Artest that ran down a hill and bought sandwiches and sodas for 30 campers the last night of Five Star.

"This is a guy that could eat anywhere he wants, a millionaire, and he's down at Turkey Hill getting food for all the kids," Aberer said. "This guy's a millionaire, and he sleeps in the same bunks as coaches, eats with kids, is up at 6:30 to work out with our kids and put them through drills. They love that. And at night he's up until 1:30 or 2 in the morning working on his own game. He's phenomenal.

"Despite what they are trying to make him out to be, he is not a monster."

Queensbridge connection

The truth is, at age 25, Ron Artest is all those things, good and bad.

And the origin of that truth lies three subway stops from LaSalle Academy, at Queensbridge Houses, the nation's largest federal housing project.

A brief walk around "QB," as it's known to its 5,000 families, and it's easy to see why the place is so intimidating. The sheer enormousness, the silence and stillness surrounding the seemingly endless arrangement of brick towers pierce any sense of confidence. The structure doesn't scream despair, but it's clear that despair lives here, thrives here.

Artest grew up here. He watched drug deals and shootouts, witnessed firsthand the poverty and tragedy that live alongside the artistic and entrepreneurial genius a life of hardship often inspires.

A select few -- including Artest, rapper Nas and rap duo Mobb Deep -- have made it from Queensbridge to fame. Two former Pacers grew up there, too, Sean Green and Vern Fleming. The road for them, they have said, was no easier.

"This place is no joke," said Artie Cox, another of Artest's former coaches and still one of his close friends. "That's why when people talk bad about Ron-Ron (as Artest is known to many around his old haunt), you know they've never been to where he's from. Because nobody around here will tolerate that. I wish somebody would bad mouth him around me."

Ray Polanco is a former New York City police officer who knows Queensbridge well.

He also taught Artest economics and Spanish at LaSalle and coached him on the freshman team.

Polanco sat Artest for 10 games that season to discipline him, mostly to help smooth out the fiery 14-year-old's rough edges.

"I'm from the Lower East Side, and I think everybody from New York likes to think they are from a tough part of the city," Polanco said. "But I've been to Ronnie's neighborhood, and you better learn how to survive in that neighborhood or you're going to be in trouble.

"That's where Ronnie gets his toughness from. He's not going to back down from anybody. He's always been that way. He is from an area where it's bred in him not to back down from anybody."

Artest didn't go after Pistons center Ben Wallace after Wallace shoved him that night at the Palace. For that, some have questioned Artest's toughness. Not those who have known him for years.

"I heard a TV commentator call him a coward for not fighting Ben Wallace," Aberer said. "A coward? A coward? He was trying to do the right thing. This is a guy that went after Shaq O'Neal -- I don't think a coward would do that. I thought the restraint he showed was admirable.

"But that's just more of the stupid crap people that know nothing about him are spreading."

Lives for challenge

LaSalle officials dispute the notion that Artest always has been troubled.

School President Brother Michael Farrell said Artest was an honor student, and "we never had a problem" while Artest attended the school. Coaches said that during breaks in practice, while other players were relaxing or shooting around, Artest would be in a corner finishing his homework.

Hard work paid off in basketball, too. Artest was a star on a Cardinals team that went 27-0 and won the city title during his senior season, 1996-97. A McDonald's All-American, he had his pick of colleges and chose to stay near home, at St. John's.

Former St. John's coach Fran Fraschilla, who recruited Artest and coached him during his freshman season (Artest went pro after his sophomore season), said he saw qualities in Artest that he hadn't seen in 23 years of coaching, a career that saw him coach 18 players who went on to the NBA.

"Ronnie's got this competitiveness that is totally off the charts," said Fraschilla, now an ESPN analyst living in Dallas. "The thing we always needed at St. John's was a jump-starter, a guy that refused to lose. Ronnie single-handedly jump-started St. John's."

Fraschilla said Artest did that by using what Queensbridge had ingrained in him: fervent pride and a fear of failure that borders on maniacal. Both showed in Artest's tireless work ethic and at-times peculiar behavior. His old coach suspects it's all fueled by a need in Artest to prove to any nonbelievers that he's the real deal -- "QB's finest," as one of his tattoos reads.

Fraschilla had a counterpunch for Artest's over-the-top behavior.

"I'd tweak him. I'd throw him out of practice," said the coach, who lived by the credo that he had to be "crazier than your craziest player."

Artest also would be forced to play with the second and third team whenever Fraschilla needed to crank up the intensity at practice. Artest loved it. "The greater the challenge, the greater the response," Fraschilla said.

Fraschilla maintains that during Artest's two years at the school there were no problems off the court. He said Artest was always respectful of authority. The only outbursts were on the court, his coach said. Those would last about 10 minutes, and then Artest would go right back to being the gentle, giving person his family and close friends talk about.

"I'm sad that people don't get to know that low-key, innocent side of him," Fraschilla said. "I would coach him again. I'd love to, because he lived to show you that he could do whatever somebody thought he couldn't."

Life goes on

So can Artest overcome his latest incident, called by some the worst moment in U.S. sports history? He'll spend a lifetime dealing with the fallout, Polanco said with regret.

Aberer said he doesn't care if people ever change their minds about Artest because he won't.

Pat Thomas, a senior at LaSalle Academy whose picture with Artest from the Five Star camp last summer is the centerpiece in a photo collage outside the gymnasium, claims all of New York, Artest's New York, supports its native son.

"Life goes on around here whether you want it to or not," said Thomas, who scored a game-high 26 points Friday afternoon. "What happened has already happened. Everybody has to move on and let Ron-Ron move on, too."

Artest himself isn't talking about the matter, on the advice of legal counsel. Thursday, he and his suspended teammates spent six hours with an arbitrator in a Midtown Manhattan law office -- only a dozen or so miles from Queensbridge, but a whole world apart -- trying to regain some of the games and money they've lost while serving their suspensions.

That's about all that may be salvageable from the entire affair of Nov. 19.

But like Pat Thomas said, life goes on.

Call Star reporter Sekou Smith at (317) 444-6053.
 
Last edited:
Here is even a better article on Artest.
http://nl.newsbank.com/nl-search/we.../20/2006 11:32 AM&s_docstart=10&s_docsleft=6&


The many faces of Ron Artest
Pacers forward is an enigma in size-16 basketball shoes
MARK MONTIETH MARK.MONTIETH@INDYSTAR.COM

Howard Garfinkel thought he was doing Ron Artest a favor by inviting him to the Five Star Camp in the summer. He wasn't asking much. Just show up, give a speech and then accept admission into the basketball camp's hall of fame.
Artest said no.

He had a better idea. A former camp participant as a high school player, he wanted to come back and work for a week. Sleep in a dormitory room at Robert Morris University with the players and counselors, eat the cafeteria food, coach a team of high school players, run a drill station and, for that matter, participate in drills himself. OK, and lecture, too.

That's exactly what Artest did the second week of August. But while most of the guests who return to the camp that has drawn many of the game's legendary players in its 38-year history wait for a first-class airplane ticket to arrive in the mail, Artest drove from his home north of Indianapolis to the tiny college 17 miles outside of Pittsburgh. And when after arriving he heard that two campers were stranded at the bus station, he volunteered to go downtown and pick them up.

"He was unbelievable," recalled Garfinkel, Five Star's founder. "It was one of the most incredible performances I've ever seen. I've never seen anybody do what he did.

" That's the real Ronnie Artest."

Does anyone know him?

Who is Ron Artest, really? Nobody else who has worn an Indiana Pacers uniform in the franchise's 36-year history comes close to being as controversial or as complex. Nobody else has inspired more negative publicity, more doubts, more anger. Nobody else inspires more praise and devotion from those who know him best. Nobody else encountered more obstacles while growing up. Nobody else has done more to help people where he grew up.

Whoever you think he is, this much is clear: Artest can hardly afford another season like the previous one, which turned out to be one of the most publicized and scrutinized an NBA player has had without being accused of a felony.

He was charged with eight flagrant foul points, twice as many as any other player in the league, was suspended for 12 games, and by his estimation paid more than $300,000 in fines and lost salary. He was the subject of a cover story titled "Mad Game" in ESPN The Magazine, the victim of a bogus report on ESPN's Web site about getting into a fight at the All-Star break, declared mentally ill by a Chicago Tribune columnist and repeatedly hammered on talk radio.

Along the way he had to participate in 26 court-ordered sessions with a therapist, the result of threatening remarks made in a telephone conversation with his former live-in girlfriend.

No wonder he aroused strong reactions. Fans in Cleveland and Detroit threw coins at him late in the season. Some Pacers fans have called for him to be released or traded. One such appeal came from a man who circulated a petition through his church and mailed it to team CEO Donnie Walsh.

All of that for someone who gives freely of his time and money to charity, is unquestionably devoted to his family, is one of the Pacers' hardest workers and is patient and accommodating with fans and the media.

Who is Ron Artest? To dig deeper into his background is to hear a chorus of praise and respect for a kid with a temper and a need for attention, but a generous heart, and a genuine passion for basketball.

You hear it from his high school coach, Bill Aberer. You hear it from former youth coaches such as Artie Cox and Lou Garnes. And you hear it from Hank Carter, one of Artest's major influences.

Carter, like Artest, grew up in Queensbridge, N.Y., a federal housing project that accommodates 5,000 families, the nation's largest. This is not Disney World.

Carter was a gang leader as a teenager, turned his life around in the military, served in Vietnam, then got a job as a bank teller starting at $65 a week. When he retired from Long Island Savings in 1998, he was a senior vice president earning $120 per hour.

Artest lived with Carter for six months before and during his senior year of high school, when the recruiting pressures were building. He attended Mass with Carter at the church across the street from Carter's residence at 7:30 every morning, then took the train into Manhattan where he attended LaSalle Academy, a private school.

"He took me under his wing and taught me how to be responsible," Artest says of Carter.

Taught him how to stay in touch with the community, too. Despite his financial security, Carter still lives in neighboring Queens, doesn't own a car and devotes 35 to 40 hours of volunteer work per week to Goldwater Hospital and Wheelchair Charities Inc. He founded the charity in 1974 after one of his best friends in Queensbridge, Al Fogle, was hit by a stray bullet and paralyzed.

Carter says Artest is rivaled only by former Pacers point guard Mark Jackson in his support of the charity. He got involved as a 14-year-old, when like all the participants he had to write an essay before playing in a spring high school all-star game, but his involvement has gone much deeper.

He visits with the patients so often he knows many of them personally. He pushes them through hallways in their wheelchairs, sits and talks with them, plays games with them. When he was a teenager, he sold tickets for some of the foundation's fund-raising events and now he serves as a spokesman for the charity at news conferences. He drives to most of the related events, refusing to accept expense reimbursement. The fact he plays in an annual all-star game of NBA players at Madison Square Garden -- he was MVP this year -- is almost an afterthought.

Artest draws inspiration and perspective from his interaction with the patients, who struggle to accomplish the simplest tasks.

"Everybody's an athlete," he said.

Artest made clear his devotion to Carter's cause when he was a teenager and his AAU team sponsored by Riverside Church -- which also paid Artest's tuition to LaSalle -- was going to Paris to play in a tournament. Artest went to Carter and asked him if he would be upset. Carter, assuming he wanted to go to Paris and was apologizing for skipping the charity game, said no, of course not.

"No, would you be upset if I stayed?" Artest said.

"That's Ron," Carter said.

"Ron has been very, very reliable. That's what I love about him. When he's relaxed and there's no pressure on him, he's so patient with people.

"That's why when he gets into problems on the court, that's not really Ron. He's just competing."

Holding his temper

The reasons behind Artest's "problems," on the court and off, are varied, well-explored and of little interest to him now. They all boil down to the fact he has a temper. An explosive, Bob Knight-like temper that sometimes compels him to throw things, kick things and break things when he's upset.

He wants to control it and expects to do so, but doesn't see the need for professional help. He says he didn't gain any particular benefit from his 26 sessions last winter.


Continued.......
 
Continued:



The sources of Artest's eruptions are easy targets for pop psychologists, but it starts with heredity. His father, Ron Sr., had a temper, too.

The environment in Queensbridge wasn't a calming influence, either. Artest grew up in a cramped two-bedroom apartment with three sisters, two brothers and two nephews, and was surrounded by poverty and tragedy.

A sister, Quanisha, died at 10 weeks. She was buried with one of his basketball trophies, and her name is tattooed on his right biceps. A brother, Wally, is in jail on drug-related charges. He also was witness to his father's acts of domestic violence as a child, and was subjected to his parents' divorce when he was 14.

Artest has become increasingly wary of discussing his childhood. He has acknowledged the impact of some of his early experiences, but now downplays them.

"Things happen at home," he said. "The next morning you get up and go to school. Things are happening all over."

In Queensbridge, they certainly were. Drug deals and stray bullets, such as the one that paralyzed Fogle, were an accepted part of living there. Artest was never pressured by gang members -- he was the one with a chance to get out, after all -- but their influence was pervasive.

"You'd be playing basketball in the playground and somebody would start shooting," Artest recalled. "You'd see somebody behind a tree, or hiding a gun behind a newspaper. Suddenly four or five people would be shooting. You'd go under a bench and hide.

"It got to a point where I'd just stand there and wait for it to stop. I'd get tired of running so much. It would last about five minutes and then the police would come."

Artest, however, is fiercely loyal to Queensbridge, which also produced former Pacers Sean Green and Vern Fleming. He sometimes writes "QB" on his basketball shoes before games but his support is more than symbolic. He co-sponsors basketball tournaments there for boys and girls. He provides most of the funding and, if he's in town, will coach or referee games.

This summer he paid the Five Star tuition fee for nearly 20 youngsters from Queensbridge and two from his high school.

Some of Artest's mentors believe his emotional outbursts are connected to his desire to make good for the people of Queensbridge.

Remember him breaking the television monitor and TV camera after a loss at Madison Square Garden in January, the incident that initiated the spiral of suspensions and flagrant fouls? Artest had dreamed of playing for the Knicks when he entered the NBA draft after his second season at St. John's, and he was eager to play there for the first time with the Pacers, who rolled into town with a 23-8 record. Artest hit just 2-of-11 shots that night and the Pacers blew a 17-point halftime lead. He was seething and embarrassed when he walked off the court.

"He carries the load of his community on his back sometimes," Carter said. "He wants to win and he wants to look good and he wants to do the right things.

"But it's like running a race. You have to know when to stop. Some people just keep on running because their pride is so great. Ron sometimes passes that line at full speed. He has to learn to slow down."

A ticket out

Artest was running his race by the time he was a teenager. By then it was clear basketball could provide a path out of Queensbridge and a way to help those still there. He had inherited his father's size and strength along with the temper, and his father had made it a point to ingrain toughness. They squared off in physical one-on-one games on the playground. They also squared off occasionally with boxing gloves, at least until Artest grew big enough to land some punches.

"I tagged him nice!" he recalls with glee.

It was no surprise, then, that Artest was aggressive and temperamental when he began playing competitive basketball. Cox, a man Artest calls "the greatest coach I've ever played for," remembers a kid who had some difficult times emotionally but was always passionate, always reachable on the basketball court.

"I used to laugh and tell him, 'Would you take that Queensbridge face off?' " Cox said. "It used to be that everybody had that look, like they wanted to scare everybody out of the neighborhood. You break it down, their life was trying to get out of here."

Cox recalls a summer game in which Artest, angry over something when taken out, walked to the end of the bench and tipped over the plastic water cooler, forcing play to be stopped so the floor could be cleaned.

He then walked to the other team's bench to get a drink. Suddenly that cooler was spilled onto the floor as well.

Artest strolled back to his bench wearing a sheepish grin.

"Ron! You think I don't know what's going on?" Cox yelled.

"I don't know what's wrong with those buckets," Artest shrugged.

Cox considered Artest more of a vulnerable kid than a troublemaker, however. He was reminded of that one day when he was driving Artest home after a game. Artest mentioned that it was his mother's birthday, so Cox stopped at a store and gave him money to purchase a card. He came out with a card but no envelope.

"He didn't know you're supposed to get an envelope with a card, because he had never got a card before," Cox said. "That really touched me."

Artest's mix of aggression, temper, unselfishness and innocence touched all of his coaches. Garnes, who coached him on another amateur team, recalls holding him out of a game when he was 12 "because we got tired of talking to him," but having no problems after that. The predominant image in his mind today is of Artest's unselfishness.

Aberer, his coach at LaSalle, says Artest never received a technical foul in his high school career. LaSalle went 27-0 during Artest's senior season, won the city title and was the second-ranked team in the nation. For Aberer, Artest was like an assistant coach who helped with the dirty work of motivation.

"Any time during the season you had the occasion when kids were slacking off, Ronnie wouldn't let them," he said. "He'd yell at them.

"He was the warrior that you wanted on your team, in the locker room and on the court. He worked his a - - off and demanded that everyone else did, too."

Father figure

Artest is a warrior in his personal life, too. He fathered his first child before he graduated from high school. He has four now, three with his wife, Kimisha, whom he married during the off-season, and one with a former girlfriend who lives in New York.

He acknowledges he's "a little ahead of schedule" as a 23-year-old father of four, but doesn't rule out having more children because he's secure in the future of his marriage.

"I found the girl I want to be with forever," he said.

That's only the beginning of his financial responsibilities. He helps support his parents -- his father lives near Queensbridge and his mother lives in Indianapolis -- as well as his nephews and nieces.

How many?

"Twelve," he said. "Maybe 13.

"Who knows?" he added, laughing.

Artest doesn't blink at his obligations. He says he was in financial difficulty early in his NBA career in Chicago, but the contract that goes into effect this season -- six years, $41 million -- has brought security to everyone. The demands on his time are more of a distraction than the demands on his bank account, but he doesn't complain about either.

"We just grind," he said, smiling.

It's the only life he knows.

Call Star reporter Mark Montieth at 1-317-444-6406.
 
This ones OK.




http://nl.newsbank.com/nl-search/we.../20/2006 11:32 AM&s_docstart=10&s_docsleft=5&
FAMILY LEAVE
After incident, Pacers All-Star Ron Artest spent his days playing with his kids. It was a lot more fun than chasing Kobe and LeBron.

On Nov. 19, 2004, player's life was transformed when game turned into a melee and led to his seasonlong suspension
MARK MONTIETH MARK.MONTIETH@INDYSTAR.COM

There's trouble in the Artest household.
Six-year-old Ron-Ron has knocked over his 2-year-old sister, Diamond, while chasing after his 8-year-old sister, Sade, who has decided to run 10 laps around the basement. Diamond has fallen but offers no complaint, and Ron-Ron continues on his way.

Ron Artest, father of this hyper brood, surveys the scene while relaxing on a red chaise lounge chair and calls after his son.

"Come here a minute," Artest said, barely above his normal speaking voice. "Why would you do that? You have to watch where you're going."

His son, still smiling, starts to chase after his older sister again.

"That's not funny," Artest said. "Come here. Ron-Ron. Come here."

Artest tells his son to sit next to him on the floor and face the wall while he continues his safety lecture. Ten seconds later, the punishment has ended.

"OK, get up," Artest said.

As Ron-Ron resumes his chase, dad breaks into a huge smile.

"These kids are hilarious," he said.

Far from the NBA arenas and the relentless glare of the national media spotlight, this is reality for the Indiana Pacers' All-Star forward. It plays out daily at his Zionsville, Ind., home, providing a sanctuary of normalcy for one of the league's most controversial players.

Today marks the one-year anniversary of what surely ranks as the most publicized incident in the NBA's history. Artest was at the epicenter, walking away from Detroit center Ben Wallace's shove but later charging into the stands after a fan hit Artest with a beer cup as he reclined on the scorer's table, setting off a wild melee. Two days later, he was suspended for the remainder of the season by commissioner David Stern, perhaps costing the Pacers a shot at a championship and changing Artest's life forever.

But not as much as people might think.

When Artest sat in his basement with his wife, Kimsha, and watched Stern deliver his landmark suspension, his immediate reaction was one of shock.

"Damn!" he said. "The whole season?"

Immediately, however, the conversation turned to making the best of a bad situation. For Artest, the silver lining was wrapped around his children, who were suddenly going to get more of his time.

"Those are Daddy's kids," said Kimsha, a stay-at-home mom. "Mom's the disciplinarian. Daddy's the good guy; Mommy's the bad guy. If you want to do something good, you go ask Daddy."

Almost daily, Ron took the two youngest, Ron-Ron and Diamond, to their preschool classes at the Jewish Community Center. He stayed to lift weights, play basketball and swim, from 9 a.m. to 7 p.m. The routine changed some after Artest was allowed to return to practice with the Pacers in late January, but he still was free to be with them on game days or when the team was on the road.

His suspension also allowed him more time to get his business affairs in order, work on his next CD, cook meals, take his kids to museums and the zoo, and referee them at home.

"I enjoyed being home," Artest said. "It's never going to happen again. Not when they're this age. Next time I'm home with them . . . I'll probably be in the league until I'm 38 or whatever, and my daughters will be 20 or something. It was good."

Ron knows best

Artest might look like a force of evil to fans who have only seen him on television replays of the brawl, but at home he's a sitcom father from the 1950s -- just wealthier and busier.

He and Kimsha are unabashed in their appreciation for the way they've been accepted in Indianapolis and the busy lifestyle they're able to lead. Their children attend Zionsville's public schools, they regularly attend the 11 a.m. Sunday service at the Metropolitan Baptist Church near Downtown and are active in charitable activities.

"I got so lucky," Artest said. "I tell you, I'm going to be here for a long time. No matter what happens, I want to stay in Indiana."

The Artests live in a three-story brick Tudor home on 14 acres, most of which are surrounded by an iron gate. The barrier isn't there to keep people out as much as to keep their world in. Along with the children, there are five dogs, although only one -- Goldie, a cocker spaniel -- is allowed the run of the house.

Kimsha's mother, Vivian Hatfield, lives on an adjacent property, and Ron's mother, Sarah, lives a few miles away in Carmel with a revolving group of relatives.

It will only get busier next week. The Artests are expecting 30-35 people for Thanksgiving -- Ron's favorite holiday -- about 20 of whom will be children. That group will include Ron's other son, 4-year-old Jeron, who lives in New York with his mother. Jeron flew to Indianapolis on Friday with Artest's father, Ron Sr., and met up with him at Conseco Fieldhouse after practice. Jeron will stay for a week, and returns nearly every month.

A natural lifestyle

If this seems like a stressful environment for most people, it's comforting for Ron and Kimsha, who met 13 years ago in New York. Both come from large families, and are happiest when immersed in them.

Ron, in particular, knows no other way. He grew up in a two-bedroom apartment in Queensbridge that housed 12 or 13 people. When it burned down, the family moved to a one-bedroom apartment in the nation's largest public housing project.

He says as many as 17 people lived there at one time, most of them finding space on the floor to sleep.

"It was hard to live like that, but it was fun," Artest said. "Everybody enjoyed each other. Everybody was real close."

Artest wouldn't mind everyone getting closer. If he had his way, he would have eight children -- just like his mother. Kimsha isn't ready for that level of productivity, but they are planning to adopt a child next summer. Ethnic background doesn't matter.

"It's good to give back," Kimsha said. "We want to adopt a child who needs the love and support of a family."

Artest, as much as anyone, knows all about that.

Call Star reporter Mark Montieth at (317) 444-6406.
 
Great pieces. Learned more about him in detail, along with things I knew the general behind but not as detailed.

See, stuff like those too, it rarely gets mentioned (from what I remember). The media's quite pathetic sometimes, indeed.
 
Last edited:
Back
Top