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Ailene Voisin: Rookie Francisco García is part of a revamped Kings starting lineup, but a family tragedy keeps holiday spirit to a minimum
By Ailene Voisin -- Bee Columnist
Published 2:15 am PST Monday, December 26, 2005
Francisco García is in the starting lineup for the foreseeable future, and while this would be an encouraging development for any swingman cutting his teeth on his first NBA season, in his particular painful situation, the move couldn't come at a better time.
This is December.
García hates December.
The music. The social gatherings. The festive outfits. The colorful lights that dangle off rooftops and decorate lawns and bushes, offering cheer and lifting spirits during the annual holiday season.
But not for García. For the Kings' passionate, personable rookie, the lights only illuminate the darkest moment and worst memories of his young life. His brother, 19-year-old Hector, was murdered two years ago this month, another victim of the senseless gun violence that plagues this wealthy society like an infectious disease.
And García - who for years had dreamed of moving his sibling and his mother out of a South Bronx housing project - understands that while lucrative NBA contracts offer certain economic protections, they don't vaccinate against grief or loneliness, or the questions that continue to torment.
What if Hector had not been in that lobby when the gunmen burst in and began firing? What if Francisco had already been in the NBA instead of an intriguing prospect at Louisville? What if the family had never left the Dominican Republic? What if things had been different?
There are no answers, of course, no rewriting of a life script. There is only the soothing, familiar cadence of the basketball, the camaraderie of the locker room, the welcome preoccupation that accompanies the stresses of any job. There is that. For however long it lasts - Peja Stojakovic's back problems being the determining factor - García plans to immerse himself in his expanded responsibilities, hoping that the distraction eases him through the holidays.
"It's still very hard," he said quietly, the sadness reflected in his brown eyes. "I talk to my brother every day, before every game. But this time of year ... I think of so many things. December is also the month of my birthday."
García is a New Year's Eve baby, a soon-to-be 24-year-old man who remains exceptionally close to his mother. Miguelina García is clearly the woman in his life. Before leaving the locker room late Thursday night, García taps on his cell phone, looks at the numbers closely, then flashes a warm, fleeting smile of recognition. Not all of the memories are grim.
A native of the Dominican Republic who moved to New York with his mother and brother when he was 15, García candidly recalls his early struggles with English, and how his transition was buffeted by both his discovery of basketball and his mother's persistent, nurturing ministrations. Public school led to prep school. Prep school led to Louisville. Louisville led to the NBA.
García remains two semesters shy of receiving his degree in communications - a goal he insists is within reach.
"Of course," he says, feigning indignation. "My Moms is all over me."
Basketball nonetheless remains the refuge, the force that lightens his being. While the Kings have snoozed through most of these first two months, failing to meet expectations, and their defensive intensity and commitment no more apparent than in the past, García has been an emotional beacon inside Arco Arena.
Fans searching for reasons to cheer - a King chasing after a loose ball, stretching for a rebound, sprinting downcourt on the break, eagerly throwing a two-fisted pass, or otherwise performing with at least a smidge of passion - are appreciative of the feisty newcomer, his occasional blunders and bad decisions notwithstanding.
This was never more apparent than Thursday night against the Dallas Mavericks, when Arco rocked for the first time since the Monarchs clinched the WNBA championship. The kids (and one old guy named Corliss Williamson) finally found a way to keep everyone awake, to prod the purple-clad partisans out of their seats. Kevin Martin continued to show promise with his athleticism and increasing aggressiveness. Ronnie Price presented a convincing case for more opportunities with his deep jumpers and the potential for muscular, on-the-ball defense. And García, whose presence ultimately will bolster a bench that remains unproven, not necessarily inadequate, again displayed skills that are intuitive and multi-dimensional.
Rail-thin at 6-foot-7 and 195 pounds, he has the height to peer over opponents, the instincts to anticipate and the length to disrupt defensively. His unusually long, slender fingers also enable him to cup the basketball in one hand, allowing him to snatch rebounds, whip passes and maintain control of the ball while elevating for dunks. Most impressively, perhaps, is his ability to maneuver into gaps in the lane, creating opportunities for himself or drawing defenders and finding open teammates.
His most obvious weakness is his outside shot - and his insistence of hoisting outside shots too quickly and too often.
"I'm working hard on it," García says, with a slight smile. "All the time."
That's how he planned to spend most of the holidays. Working on his shot. Working on his game. Working to avoid thinking too much. The Kings have become his extended family, and with his mother visiting relatives in the Dominican Republic, his immediate family.
"I wanted her to go down there," García said. "It was better for her. She was here early in the month, and she will come again. But this is a tough time. My Moms and I ... we just want to get through it."
About the writer: Ailene Voisin can be reached at (916) 321-1208 or avoisin@sacbee.com.
Ailene Voisin: Rookie Francisco García is part of a revamped Kings starting lineup, but a family tragedy keeps holiday spirit to a minimum
By Ailene Voisin -- Bee Columnist
Published 2:15 am PST Monday, December 26, 2005
Francisco García is in the starting lineup for the foreseeable future, and while this would be an encouraging development for any swingman cutting his teeth on his first NBA season, in his particular painful situation, the move couldn't come at a better time.
This is December.
García hates December.
The music. The social gatherings. The festive outfits. The colorful lights that dangle off rooftops and decorate lawns and bushes, offering cheer and lifting spirits during the annual holiday season.
But not for García. For the Kings' passionate, personable rookie, the lights only illuminate the darkest moment and worst memories of his young life. His brother, 19-year-old Hector, was murdered two years ago this month, another victim of the senseless gun violence that plagues this wealthy society like an infectious disease.
And García - who for years had dreamed of moving his sibling and his mother out of a South Bronx housing project - understands that while lucrative NBA contracts offer certain economic protections, they don't vaccinate against grief or loneliness, or the questions that continue to torment.
What if Hector had not been in that lobby when the gunmen burst in and began firing? What if Francisco had already been in the NBA instead of an intriguing prospect at Louisville? What if the family had never left the Dominican Republic? What if things had been different?
There are no answers, of course, no rewriting of a life script. There is only the soothing, familiar cadence of the basketball, the camaraderie of the locker room, the welcome preoccupation that accompanies the stresses of any job. There is that. For however long it lasts - Peja Stojakovic's back problems being the determining factor - García plans to immerse himself in his expanded responsibilities, hoping that the distraction eases him through the holidays.
"It's still very hard," he said quietly, the sadness reflected in his brown eyes. "I talk to my brother every day, before every game. But this time of year ... I think of so many things. December is also the month of my birthday."
García is a New Year's Eve baby, a soon-to-be 24-year-old man who remains exceptionally close to his mother. Miguelina García is clearly the woman in his life. Before leaving the locker room late Thursday night, García taps on his cell phone, looks at the numbers closely, then flashes a warm, fleeting smile of recognition. Not all of the memories are grim.
A native of the Dominican Republic who moved to New York with his mother and brother when he was 15, García candidly recalls his early struggles with English, and how his transition was buffeted by both his discovery of basketball and his mother's persistent, nurturing ministrations. Public school led to prep school. Prep school led to Louisville. Louisville led to the NBA.
García remains two semesters shy of receiving his degree in communications - a goal he insists is within reach.
"Of course," he says, feigning indignation. "My Moms is all over me."
Basketball nonetheless remains the refuge, the force that lightens his being. While the Kings have snoozed through most of these first two months, failing to meet expectations, and their defensive intensity and commitment no more apparent than in the past, García has been an emotional beacon inside Arco Arena.
Fans searching for reasons to cheer - a King chasing after a loose ball, stretching for a rebound, sprinting downcourt on the break, eagerly throwing a two-fisted pass, or otherwise performing with at least a smidge of passion - are appreciative of the feisty newcomer, his occasional blunders and bad decisions notwithstanding.
This was never more apparent than Thursday night against the Dallas Mavericks, when Arco rocked for the first time since the Monarchs clinched the WNBA championship. The kids (and one old guy named Corliss Williamson) finally found a way to keep everyone awake, to prod the purple-clad partisans out of their seats. Kevin Martin continued to show promise with his athleticism and increasing aggressiveness. Ronnie Price presented a convincing case for more opportunities with his deep jumpers and the potential for muscular, on-the-ball defense. And García, whose presence ultimately will bolster a bench that remains unproven, not necessarily inadequate, again displayed skills that are intuitive and multi-dimensional.
Rail-thin at 6-foot-7 and 195 pounds, he has the height to peer over opponents, the instincts to anticipate and the length to disrupt defensively. His unusually long, slender fingers also enable him to cup the basketball in one hand, allowing him to snatch rebounds, whip passes and maintain control of the ball while elevating for dunks. Most impressively, perhaps, is his ability to maneuver into gaps in the lane, creating opportunities for himself or drawing defenders and finding open teammates.
His most obvious weakness is his outside shot - and his insistence of hoisting outside shots too quickly and too often.
"I'm working hard on it," García says, with a slight smile. "All the time."
That's how he planned to spend most of the holidays. Working on his shot. Working on his game. Working to avoid thinking too much. The Kings have become his extended family, and with his mother visiting relatives in the Dominican Republic, his immediate family.
"I wanted her to go down there," García said. "It was better for her. She was here early in the month, and she will come again. But this is a tough time. My Moms and I ... we just want to get through it."
About the writer: Ailene Voisin can be reached at (916) 321-1208 or avoisin@sacbee.com.
