http://www.sacbee.com/content/sports/story/13741942p-14583837c.html
Big nasty's sweet side
Williamson keeps the tough-guy business to the court
By Joe Davidson
Two images of Corliss Williamson:
One is of a bruising Kings power forward for the Kings who has made a career of scattering bodies with his log-like forearms. He's a bouncer, all sneers and snarls, in a bouncing-ball game.
That's the Big Nasty.
Danny Fortson, resident banger for the Seattle SuperSonics, explained during last season's playoff rumble with the Kings, "I mean, I've got Corliss Williamson. It's not like I'm out there against some pansy. He's going to knock my teeth out."
And the other: A 6-foot-7, 245-pound giggling jungle gym to his three young sons at home. Or playing educational computer games on Read to Achieve day with scores of wide-eyed youth from Roseville schools, as he did Wednesday, where he muscled in through the parking lot masses and then melted into a heap of charm and charisma with mouse in hand.
Big Nasty or Big Softy, depending on venue.
And if there wasn't that Corliss cosmic divide, if it were Big Nasty all the time?
"He wouldn't have a home, because there'd be nothing left," said his wife of five years, Michelle, who burst into laughter in trying to visualize how furniture wouldn't stand a chance against his wrath. "When I first saw Corliss play on TV at Arkansas (in 1994) I thought, 'Oooh, he's so mean. Look at him beat on all those guys.' Once I met him, he was very softspoken, shy, like he is now.
"I thought, 'Hey, where's that Big Nasty?' "
The Big Nasty has emerged as the senior member of the Kings at 31, still very much a versatile and valuable commodity with 10 NBA seasons under the hood. In a second Kings tour he never saw coming, Williamson vows more of the same: the half-hooks, the elbows, the savvy, with the added boost of being a leader and leading by example.
He has maintained his staying power by staying away from foods that would make him balloon, meaning no more burgers and pizzas, though he confesses, "I miss all of it, man."
Williamson said he might play a ton of minutes this season, and he might not. Regardless, he said he'll report to work, work over opponents and work over any teammates who might fuss over playing time.
"I'm going to be a bigger leader this year," Williamson said. "I've learned a lot of things over the years - been on some bad teams, been on some great teams, played with great players and coaches. I've been around."
He has an audience already. Francisco García, the Kings' first-round pick, said Williamson was quick to scold him for jumping on referees.
"Corliss is the veteran, and he's been around so long, so I apologized for what I did," García said. "You have to listen to guys like Corliss."
Said Kings assistant coach Elston Turner: "He's a great piece to our puzzle. He's a champion, and if you don't hear him complain about playing time, then you don't want to hear it from anyone else. I think guys will have to respect that."
And Kings assistant coach Pete Carril: "They don't come any better than Corliss. The best example of his class is just before we drafted him, he told (Kings president of basketball operations Geoff Petrie) that he had a back problem. He didn't have to do that."
Williamson's back, as it turned out, never was a problem. He has played longer than he could have imagined, all because he perfected the tough-guy role without being down and dirty. He's not a cheap-shot artist, but Kings coach Rick Adelman said Williamson is his best post defender and very much a leader. Williamson does know how to swing his considerable backside to clear space, to prevent forwards four inches taller from dominating him by planting his tree-trunk legs and leaning forward.
"On the floor, you can't be nice," Williamson said. "I would never have made it if I was passive. It's a man game inside. A lot of guys are blessed with great talent and don't have to be that aggressive. For me to stay in the league, I have to have some of that nasty."
The first sign Williamson had competitive juices rumbling at a full boil was when he was in the first grade in tiny Russellville, Ark. He coveted a school prize - a T-shirt - and all he had to do was read a stack of books. All 163 of them. He conquered the stack, which is why Read to Achieve means something to Williamson even now.
By the seventh grade, Williamson demolished his first outdoor backboard. By the time he was a high school senior in Russellville, he was the nation's top prospect, the National Player of the Year who ground teams to mush.
Williamson willed Arkansas to the NCAA championship in 1994. He averaged nearly 18 points a game for the Kings in 1997-98, was the Sixth Man of the Year with Detroit in 2001-02 and was an NBA champion with the Pistons in 2003-04.
The toughest man on the Kings' roster also is the most athletically accomplished. And he's pretty mean with the day care, making for the complete package, Michelle said.
There's 10-year-old Chason, 26-month old Creed - "He's going through the terrible twos now," Williamson said - and there's 5-month-old Corliss Jr., or CJ for short. They chase him down when he gets home, but he doesn't ward them off. "People ask me all the time, 'What's he like at home?' " Michelle Williamson said. "Well, for one, he's in love with his kids. He's a big softy."
Big nasty's sweet side
Williamson keeps the tough-guy business to the court
By Joe Davidson
Two images of Corliss Williamson:
One is of a bruising Kings power forward for the Kings who has made a career of scattering bodies with his log-like forearms. He's a bouncer, all sneers and snarls, in a bouncing-ball game.
That's the Big Nasty.
Danny Fortson, resident banger for the Seattle SuperSonics, explained during last season's playoff rumble with the Kings, "I mean, I've got Corliss Williamson. It's not like I'm out there against some pansy. He's going to knock my teeth out."
And the other: A 6-foot-7, 245-pound giggling jungle gym to his three young sons at home. Or playing educational computer games on Read to Achieve day with scores of wide-eyed youth from Roseville schools, as he did Wednesday, where he muscled in through the parking lot masses and then melted into a heap of charm and charisma with mouse in hand.
Big Nasty or Big Softy, depending on venue.
And if there wasn't that Corliss cosmic divide, if it were Big Nasty all the time?
"He wouldn't have a home, because there'd be nothing left," said his wife of five years, Michelle, who burst into laughter in trying to visualize how furniture wouldn't stand a chance against his wrath. "When I first saw Corliss play on TV at Arkansas (in 1994) I thought, 'Oooh, he's so mean. Look at him beat on all those guys.' Once I met him, he was very softspoken, shy, like he is now.
"I thought, 'Hey, where's that Big Nasty?' "
The Big Nasty has emerged as the senior member of the Kings at 31, still very much a versatile and valuable commodity with 10 NBA seasons under the hood. In a second Kings tour he never saw coming, Williamson vows more of the same: the half-hooks, the elbows, the savvy, with the added boost of being a leader and leading by example.
He has maintained his staying power by staying away from foods that would make him balloon, meaning no more burgers and pizzas, though he confesses, "I miss all of it, man."
Williamson said he might play a ton of minutes this season, and he might not. Regardless, he said he'll report to work, work over opponents and work over any teammates who might fuss over playing time.
"I'm going to be a bigger leader this year," Williamson said. "I've learned a lot of things over the years - been on some bad teams, been on some great teams, played with great players and coaches. I've been around."
He has an audience already. Francisco García, the Kings' first-round pick, said Williamson was quick to scold him for jumping on referees.
"Corliss is the veteran, and he's been around so long, so I apologized for what I did," García said. "You have to listen to guys like Corliss."
Said Kings assistant coach Elston Turner: "He's a great piece to our puzzle. He's a champion, and if you don't hear him complain about playing time, then you don't want to hear it from anyone else. I think guys will have to respect that."
And Kings assistant coach Pete Carril: "They don't come any better than Corliss. The best example of his class is just before we drafted him, he told (Kings president of basketball operations Geoff Petrie) that he had a back problem. He didn't have to do that."
Williamson's back, as it turned out, never was a problem. He has played longer than he could have imagined, all because he perfected the tough-guy role without being down and dirty. He's not a cheap-shot artist, but Kings coach Rick Adelman said Williamson is his best post defender and very much a leader. Williamson does know how to swing his considerable backside to clear space, to prevent forwards four inches taller from dominating him by planting his tree-trunk legs and leaning forward.
"On the floor, you can't be nice," Williamson said. "I would never have made it if I was passive. It's a man game inside. A lot of guys are blessed with great talent and don't have to be that aggressive. For me to stay in the league, I have to have some of that nasty."
The first sign Williamson had competitive juices rumbling at a full boil was when he was in the first grade in tiny Russellville, Ark. He coveted a school prize - a T-shirt - and all he had to do was read a stack of books. All 163 of them. He conquered the stack, which is why Read to Achieve means something to Williamson even now.
By the seventh grade, Williamson demolished his first outdoor backboard. By the time he was a high school senior in Russellville, he was the nation's top prospect, the National Player of the Year who ground teams to mush.
Williamson willed Arkansas to the NCAA championship in 1994. He averaged nearly 18 points a game for the Kings in 1997-98, was the Sixth Man of the Year with Detroit in 2001-02 and was an NBA champion with the Pistons in 2003-04.
The toughest man on the Kings' roster also is the most athletically accomplished. And he's pretty mean with the day care, making for the complete package, Michelle said.
There's 10-year-old Chason, 26-month old Creed - "He's going through the terrible twos now," Williamson said - and there's 5-month-old Corliss Jr., or CJ for short. They chase him down when he gets home, but he doesn't ward them off. "People ask me all the time, 'What's he like at home?' " Michelle Williamson said. "Well, for one, he's in love with his kids. He's a big softy."
