http://www.sacbee.com/100/story/97557.html
Ailene Voisin: One of them will have to go
If Mike Bibby and Ron Artest can't share the same gift, being able to lead the Kings during a time they need it more than ever ...
By Ailene Voisin - Bee Columnist
Last Updated 12:00 am PST Sunday, December 24, 2006
Story appeared in SPORTS section, Page C1
With time to kill during the Kings' third-quarter stall the other night at Arco Arena, I dropped into the team store for some Christmas shopping, only to find myself wandering the aisles aimlessly. Nothing seemed to click. There was no chemistry, no karma, no communion with any of the colorful items (basketballs, shirts, calendars, etc.) that were displayed amid the maze of purple and people.
I left the store still needing two gifts.
I left, perplexed.
What do you give two men in your life who have everything but the good sense to get along?
The way Mike Bibby and Ron Artest are behaving and underperforming, I'm tempted to send gift certificates for three months of marriage counseling, enrollment in a 24-hour unity summit or daily sessions with a mental massage therapist. Maybe then they'll get it together. Or perhaps Santa should just slide over to their houses and deliver the trade papers dispatching Bibby to, say, the Boston Celtics and Artest to the Los Angeles Clippers for the disgruntled Corey Maggette (though, really, this would be a too-generous present by the Kings).
But something has to give -- soon -- or someone has to go.
Time's almost up.
When opposing coaches and scouts start mentioning the apparent tension between the two Kings in their pregame reports -- and two scouts informed me they recently have done so -- the situation is critical. Artest's denials notwithstanding, Sacramento's small forward and point guard might as well be written onto separate starting lineup sheets. They both want the ball, both want to initiate the final play, both want to be perceived as the organization's highest-profile player, and meanwhile, their attitudes are exhausting and distracting their teammates and overwhelming their young coach.
The signs are everywhere, can even be heard in crusty old Arco. Stand up and cheer if you've seen any of the following this season: extended lapses of concentration, erratic intensity on defense, body language that is lethal and lethargic, too much one-on-one, reluctant ball movement. Very little of the selflessness or collective sense of purpose that exists on quality teams, except of course, when one or the other -- Bibby or Artest -- is off the floor, and the surprising John Salmons, Kevin Martin and Brad Miller actually are allowed to touch the ball, no longer fearing that they won't ever touch it again.
No one, of course, expects a lovefest to break out, not even in the holiday spirit. Bird and McHale were allies but not pals. Magic and Kareem had as much in common as Jordan and Pippen. Or Stockton and Malone. But while emerging as a tight-lipped, Western Conference sequel to Shaq and Kobe, Bibby and Artest seem to have forgotten that they are paid handsomely to at least give the appearance of playing for the same team.
Instead, the Kings have become a downer, this Bibby-Artest snit leading the team nowhere, except toward the Pacific Division cellar. The clock ticks. Should the impasse persist beyond the next several days, Geoff Petrie, who selected the relatively inexperienced Eric Musselman as Rick Adelman's successor, will be left with no alternative.
Trade sooner rather than later.
Break it up and start from the beginning.
Hey, it could be worse. Trader Geoff is known to plot blockbuster deals while picking at his guitar strings, going back to the move that sent the ailing, aging Mitch Richmond to Washington for Chris Webber. The Kings' basketball president has a knack for trading players at the right time. The 76ers are stuck with an immobile Webber and his burden of a contract. Doug Christie is retired. Vlade Divac is retired. Peja Stojakovic recently underwent back surgery, an ominous development for a 29-year-old.
Bobby Jackson is chronically injured. Jason Williams has a more mature approach but terrible knees.
Petrie's more recent maneuvering has been influenced by a desire to trim the team payroll and allow for a big-strike summer reminiscent of the makeover that featured Divac, Stojakovic, Williams and Webber.
"We're still trying to win with this team," Petrie said Friday. "How much longer that continues, I don't have an answer for that. We've have been working toward creating (salary) cap flexibility while staying competitive and continuing to make the playoffs.
"Is there a time when we may want to accelerate that ... just go with the younger players and start over? Maybe. If that time comes, we'll talk about it."
Christmas comes and goes quickly. If the Kings don't become a chorus during this upcoming stretch, re-establishing a once-formidable home-court advantage at Arco, the breakup should commence. Let the kids loose under the tree and let 'em play. They'll become men eventually.
About the writer:
Reach Ailene Voisin at (916) 321-1208 or avoisin@ sacbee.com.
Ailene Voisin: One of them will have to go
If Mike Bibby and Ron Artest can't share the same gift, being able to lead the Kings during a time they need it more than ever ...
By Ailene Voisin - Bee Columnist
Last Updated 12:00 am PST Sunday, December 24, 2006
Story appeared in SPORTS section, Page C1
With time to kill during the Kings' third-quarter stall the other night at Arco Arena, I dropped into the team store for some Christmas shopping, only to find myself wandering the aisles aimlessly. Nothing seemed to click. There was no chemistry, no karma, no communion with any of the colorful items (basketballs, shirts, calendars, etc.) that were displayed amid the maze of purple and people.
I left the store still needing two gifts.
I left, perplexed.
What do you give two men in your life who have everything but the good sense to get along?
The way Mike Bibby and Ron Artest are behaving and underperforming, I'm tempted to send gift certificates for three months of marriage counseling, enrollment in a 24-hour unity summit or daily sessions with a mental massage therapist. Maybe then they'll get it together. Or perhaps Santa should just slide over to their houses and deliver the trade papers dispatching Bibby to, say, the Boston Celtics and Artest to the Los Angeles Clippers for the disgruntled Corey Maggette (though, really, this would be a too-generous present by the Kings).
But something has to give -- soon -- or someone has to go.
Time's almost up.
When opposing coaches and scouts start mentioning the apparent tension between the two Kings in their pregame reports -- and two scouts informed me they recently have done so -- the situation is critical. Artest's denials notwithstanding, Sacramento's small forward and point guard might as well be written onto separate starting lineup sheets. They both want the ball, both want to initiate the final play, both want to be perceived as the organization's highest-profile player, and meanwhile, their attitudes are exhausting and distracting their teammates and overwhelming their young coach.
The signs are everywhere, can even be heard in crusty old Arco. Stand up and cheer if you've seen any of the following this season: extended lapses of concentration, erratic intensity on defense, body language that is lethal and lethargic, too much one-on-one, reluctant ball movement. Very little of the selflessness or collective sense of purpose that exists on quality teams, except of course, when one or the other -- Bibby or Artest -- is off the floor, and the surprising John Salmons, Kevin Martin and Brad Miller actually are allowed to touch the ball, no longer fearing that they won't ever touch it again.
No one, of course, expects a lovefest to break out, not even in the holiday spirit. Bird and McHale were allies but not pals. Magic and Kareem had as much in common as Jordan and Pippen. Or Stockton and Malone. But while emerging as a tight-lipped, Western Conference sequel to Shaq and Kobe, Bibby and Artest seem to have forgotten that they are paid handsomely to at least give the appearance of playing for the same team.
Instead, the Kings have become a downer, this Bibby-Artest snit leading the team nowhere, except toward the Pacific Division cellar. The clock ticks. Should the impasse persist beyond the next several days, Geoff Petrie, who selected the relatively inexperienced Eric Musselman as Rick Adelman's successor, will be left with no alternative.
Trade sooner rather than later.
Break it up and start from the beginning.
Hey, it could be worse. Trader Geoff is known to plot blockbuster deals while picking at his guitar strings, going back to the move that sent the ailing, aging Mitch Richmond to Washington for Chris Webber. The Kings' basketball president has a knack for trading players at the right time. The 76ers are stuck with an immobile Webber and his burden of a contract. Doug Christie is retired. Vlade Divac is retired. Peja Stojakovic recently underwent back surgery, an ominous development for a 29-year-old.
Bobby Jackson is chronically injured. Jason Williams has a more mature approach but terrible knees.
Petrie's more recent maneuvering has been influenced by a desire to trim the team payroll and allow for a big-strike summer reminiscent of the makeover that featured Divac, Stojakovic, Williams and Webber.
"We're still trying to win with this team," Petrie said Friday. "How much longer that continues, I don't have an answer for that. We've have been working toward creating (salary) cap flexibility while staying competitive and continuing to make the playoffs.
"Is there a time when we may want to accelerate that ... just go with the younger players and start over? Maybe. If that time comes, we'll talk about it."
Christmas comes and goes quickly. If the Kings don't become a chorus during this upcoming stretch, re-establishing a once-formidable home-court advantage at Arco, the breakup should commence. Let the kids loose under the tree and let 'em play. They'll become men eventually.
About the writer:
Reach Ailene Voisin at (916) 321-1208 or avoisin@ sacbee.com.
