http://www.sacbee.com/content/sports/story/13830639p-14671298c.html
Right, you're new in town. I get that. You've only worn the Kings uniform for, what, a few games? And some of those were in the gold lamé outfits, so - we're checking on this - they may not even really count. Anyway, I was new here once. It's an odd place, Sacramento, isn't it? Charming, but odd.
It's the NBA, but it's small-town NBA. It's like Rock-Star Lite. Nothing matters more during the season than the team you're now playing for, and yet you can still walk into a restaurant or bar without getting relentlessly hammered by yahoos and back-pounding goofs - assuming, of course, you don't bring your posse with you.
So let me begin with that: No posses. It isn't working for Mike Bibby, and it looks ridiculous when set against Sacramento as a backdrop.
Trust me: You've landed in a no-posse kind of a town.
Be yourself. Sacramento was able to make room for Chris Webber's überego and Brad Miller's gun rack. It could love a country bumpkin like Greg Ostertag, a different-drummer type like Doug Christie, a global participant like Vlade Divac.
Phil Jackson famously needles the people around here for being backwards to the point of backwoods, but the good news for you - Shareef, Bonzi, Francisco, et al. - is that they'll pretty much accept you as you are.
Fans here are famously flexible. They dealt with Mitch Richmond's not wanting to be in town at first, and Richmond wound up lionized. Shoot, Webber's dad almost had to force him to get on the plane that flew him west. In the end, Sacramento didn't hold it against him.
Sacramento accepted Jason Williams as a developing talent who needed to prove he wasn't a self-sabotager, and even after Williams proved the opposite, they stuck by him. The fans will treat you, Bonzi, like a proud veteran who's simply misunderstood, which, if nothing else, jibes perfectly with your agent's public spin on your incident-riddled NBA career.
You want another chance? For years, the Kings were the last-wheeze saloon; now they're the Holy Cathedral of Image Renaissance.
This is the place where Wells can be reincarnated as a team player, where Abdur-Rahim can reverse his NBA career pattern of scoring points for bad teams in lost seasons - not his fault, necessarily, but a pattern all the same.
Williams, Webber, Bobby Jackson, Jon Barry, Vernon Maxwell, Christie ... if the category is extreme career makeover, you've just hit the jackpot.
Now don't blow it.
You want to be loved around here? That's easy. Go full tilt. Be anything but boring. Play with passion. Grab a defensive rebound, and you could be elected mayor.
Be for the team. It's what made Divac an almost irreplaceable part of the operation even as he grew slower and more vulnerable on the floor. It's the surest way to win games in the Geoff Petrie/Rick Adelman pass-shoot-score system.
And Kings fans still thrill to winning, if only because they haven't grown completely bored with it yet. Sure, the bar is set higher than it used to be, but that's good. The bar used to be on the ground. You have something to aim for.
Don't be afraid to aim.
No dogging it. No hissy fits. No putting on airs. They're huge on respect in this corner of the world.
Oh, there's nobody around here to indulge your inner diva. If you're channeling one, get over it.
Stand around sometimes, but for a good reason. Sign autographs. Learn how to be a patient star. There are few towns in the world that will love an athlete as much as Sacramento will love a King, but you've got to come halfway.
Work the sidelines. This is still a kiss-the-babies kind of place. Take a photo. Shake a hand. Would it kill you to give up 15 minutes before every home game at Arco Arena?
Make an honest effort. They'll reward you in public applause and private support.
Kings fans no longer are pushovers; that period passed a few years ago, after the first few of Adelman's teams began racking up wins and making it clear what the new expectations should be. But loyal? Oh, just ridiculously loyal. You may not yet realize it, but you're about to get standing ovations for putting on the laundry.
Everything you've heard about the place is true: It's the best college atmosphere in the pro world. Welcome to a one-horse town in the finest sporting sense of the phrase. You're already leading in the early exit polls.
Just don't cross 'em.
Right, you're new in town. I get that. You've only worn the Kings uniform for, what, a few games? And some of those were in the gold lamé outfits, so - we're checking on this - they may not even really count. Anyway, I was new here once. It's an odd place, Sacramento, isn't it? Charming, but odd.
It's the NBA, but it's small-town NBA. It's like Rock-Star Lite. Nothing matters more during the season than the team you're now playing for, and yet you can still walk into a restaurant or bar without getting relentlessly hammered by yahoos and back-pounding goofs - assuming, of course, you don't bring your posse with you.
So let me begin with that: No posses. It isn't working for Mike Bibby, and it looks ridiculous when set against Sacramento as a backdrop.
Trust me: You've landed in a no-posse kind of a town.
Be yourself. Sacramento was able to make room for Chris Webber's überego and Brad Miller's gun rack. It could love a country bumpkin like Greg Ostertag, a different-drummer type like Doug Christie, a global participant like Vlade Divac.
Phil Jackson famously needles the people around here for being backwards to the point of backwoods, but the good news for you - Shareef, Bonzi, Francisco, et al. - is that they'll pretty much accept you as you are.
Fans here are famously flexible. They dealt with Mitch Richmond's not wanting to be in town at first, and Richmond wound up lionized. Shoot, Webber's dad almost had to force him to get on the plane that flew him west. In the end, Sacramento didn't hold it against him.
Sacramento accepted Jason Williams as a developing talent who needed to prove he wasn't a self-sabotager, and even after Williams proved the opposite, they stuck by him. The fans will treat you, Bonzi, like a proud veteran who's simply misunderstood, which, if nothing else, jibes perfectly with your agent's public spin on your incident-riddled NBA career.
You want another chance? For years, the Kings were the last-wheeze saloon; now they're the Holy Cathedral of Image Renaissance.
This is the place where Wells can be reincarnated as a team player, where Abdur-Rahim can reverse his NBA career pattern of scoring points for bad teams in lost seasons - not his fault, necessarily, but a pattern all the same.
Williams, Webber, Bobby Jackson, Jon Barry, Vernon Maxwell, Christie ... if the category is extreme career makeover, you've just hit the jackpot.
Now don't blow it.
You want to be loved around here? That's easy. Go full tilt. Be anything but boring. Play with passion. Grab a defensive rebound, and you could be elected mayor.
Be for the team. It's what made Divac an almost irreplaceable part of the operation even as he grew slower and more vulnerable on the floor. It's the surest way to win games in the Geoff Petrie/Rick Adelman pass-shoot-score system.
And Kings fans still thrill to winning, if only because they haven't grown completely bored with it yet. Sure, the bar is set higher than it used to be, but that's good. The bar used to be on the ground. You have something to aim for.
Don't be afraid to aim.
No dogging it. No hissy fits. No putting on airs. They're huge on respect in this corner of the world.
Oh, there's nobody around here to indulge your inner diva. If you're channeling one, get over it.
Stand around sometimes, but for a good reason. Sign autographs. Learn how to be a patient star. There are few towns in the world that will love an athlete as much as Sacramento will love a King, but you've got to come halfway.
Work the sidelines. This is still a kiss-the-babies kind of place. Take a photo. Shake a hand. Would it kill you to give up 15 minutes before every home game at Arco Arena?
Make an honest effort. They'll reward you in public applause and private support.
Kings fans no longer are pushovers; that period passed a few years ago, after the first few of Adelman's teams began racking up wins and making it clear what the new expectations should be. But loyal? Oh, just ridiculously loyal. You may not yet realize it, but you're about to get standing ovations for putting on the laundry.
Everything you've heard about the place is true: It's the best college atmosphere in the pro world. Welcome to a one-horse town in the finest sporting sense of the phrase. You're already leading in the early exit polls.
Just don't cross 'em.
