http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/eticket/story?page=090511/billups
KG, his old buddy from the 1995 McDonald's All-American high school game, is recruiting Chauncey, relentlessly. He wants Chauncey to sign in Minnesota, and to entice him, he invites him to his Minneapolis home. On the wall in the cellar is a poster. It reads: The Billups Suite.
After Chauncey signs, KG introduces him around the locker room. "This is my point guard, Terrell Brandon," KG says, "and this is Pops -- Sam Mitchell."
At first, Brandon and Mitchell don't say much. They have seen Chauncey bounce from team to team, have seen his erratic shot selection. They are civil, but have no sense he can fit into their team-first philosophy. But, as the days and practices go by, Chauncey begins tugging on their sleeves, asking questions. At training camp dinners, he makes sure to sit next to Brandon, an All-Star and past winner of the NBA's Sportsmanship Award. "He's always on my right side," Brandon says. "He's moving guys out of the way so he can sit right next to me."
Chauncey even moves into the locker next to Brandon. He asks him how he knows when to shoot and when to share, and Brandon tells him to simply move the ball. He says his job as a point guard is to make teammates blissful, to get KG 20 shots a game and Wally Szczerbiak 15, to have no ego. He teaches Chauncey how to watch film, how to spend the first half reading how the defense is playing the pick-and-roll … and how to adjust in the second half. He tells him that if KG doesn't have double-figure points by mid-second quarter to start feeding him the rock. He tells him if KG still can't score, then you start scoring. He tells him to know everyone's foul situation -- on both teams -- to know who's already been hit with a technical foul, who's ripe to lose his cool.
"And another thing, you and I can't have more than two turnovers a game."
"Two? Just two?" Chauncey says, laughing.
"Actually, two is too many," Brandon says, not laughing.