Ron and Shane article

http://sports.espn.go.com/nba/playo...columnist=adande_ja&page=ArtestBattier-090512


Best article I have read in a long time.

One guy is crazy enough to let a man called "Boogie" put clippers to his head and do whatever he wants. The other guy looks like the type who would spend nights in online forums comparing the new "Star Trek" movie to the original series.

The only thing more surprising than the Houston Rockets' taking an equal share of their series with the Lakers so far is the method the Rockets have used to get there, with two divergent personalities taking an equal stake in the leadership of the team. The Rockets take their cues from both Ron Artest and Shane Battier, which sounds like a formula better suited for a buddy movie than for a winning basketball team.

"Good cop, bad cop?" Rockets reserve Brent Barry suggests. "We can do that. 'Rush Hour 4'?"

Well, it would be more like the Rush Hour franchise if it were to feature the man from China. But Yao Ming didn't figure prominently in this story even before he was lost for the playoffs with a broken foot. Although Yao might have been the focal point of the offense and the marketing campaigns, for whatever reason -- be it a cultural gap or a matter of his personality -- Yao didn't grab the reins of the team after Tracy McGrady underwent season-ending knee surgery.

The duties fell to Artest and Battier. In some cases, having more than one leader means there's really no leader. Or the two leaders can split a team into rival tribes like on "Survivor." But in Houston's case, somehow it worked, the players' separate styles complementing, not fracturing. Although Lakers coach Phil Jackson lamented Monday that his team "has a Jekyll and Hyde in it," Houston coach Rick Adelman has discovered a different trait in his team under Battier and Artest: "Every night, I knew we were going to get an effort."

Says Rockets forward Chuck Hayes: "With Shane, he demands respect because of his credibility. And Ron, he demands respect because he'll get in your face. We look up to them, we respond to them."

You'll see Artest gathering the players and trying to motivate them. Battier is often the one providing the technical details, pointing out where they should be on defense. He gives the final words to his teammates before they leave the tunnel and take the court, trying to leave them with a couple of last-minute reminders to focus on, like golfers' swing thoughts.

Battier's also the emergency sprinkler system in case Artest or anyone else gets too hot.

"I need to be a stabilizer for this team," Battier says. "It's up to me to stay the course and keep it steady. We have a lot of guys with a lot of emotion. That emotion can be good, and it can be bad. But it's my job to just sort of keep perspective to the guys and just be a calming influence."

That's what you'd expect his task to be.

This isn't going to be one of those "the person behind the scenes is so different from the player you see on the court" stories, because in this case, the players are exactly the way you think of them. Just listen to the way they describe themselves.

Battier: "I'm from the suburbs of Detroit, Michigan."

Artest: "I'm just so hood."

You'd better believe their backgrounds made them the leaders they are today. Battier is the product of a two-parent household, a private high school and four years of college among the trees at Duke. Artest grew up in Queensbridge in New York City, in a home split apart by domestic violence, and he went to school on the urban campus of St. John's.

Sometimes it seems the only thing they have in common is basketball. As Rockets guard Aaron Brooks says, "They both say the same thing, just in different words."

Battier, for instance, likes to use French phrases such as "Je ne sais quoi" and "savoir faire" that he broke out during interviews this series. Artest would love to learn some Mandarin but claims Yao won't teach him.

"I'm trying to get the music, too," Artest said. "He's like, 'Nah, you don't want to hear that.' I'm like, 'Yeah, I do want to hear that. You're the franchise, I want to hear what you're listening to.'"

That's the subtle side of Artest, deferring to the big names. He's shrewder than most realize.

"I think there are some things that Ron does that he thinks about and has some forward thinking about things he's trying to set up," Barry says. "There are certainly times where he's not thinking at all, and he knows that. But there are some things he does that are calculated to try to get an edge, and it's all a competitive edge."

Players relate to guys who want to win, no matter what their methods are. Former Laker Rick Fox, observing a late-season Rockets-Lakers game, ran down all of Artest's risky elements, then concluded, "I'd take him on my team in a second."

Artest accidentally broke Michael Jordan's rib in a pickup game when Jordan was tuning up for his 2001 comeback. When Jordan made his return to Chicago with the Washington Wizards that season, Artest kicked him in the leg. And yet, as Jordan tied his necktie in the United Center visitors locker room that day, what did he have to say about Artest? "I love the kid."

As ugly as the brawl at The Palace of Auburn Hills was, the fact that Artest's teammates followed him into the stands and had his back showed their respect for him. They all knew he would do the same for them.

Likewise, there's a high regard for Battier from those who see his preparation and dedication up close.

Spend enough time around the two, and you realize there's a common thread: They don't give a damn. Start with their appearance. Back in November, Battier was the first member of the Rockets organization to be seen in public with one of the bright red jackets that have become a symbol of team pride lately. Artest has sported a Mohawk and various designs shaved into his head (including the Rockets logo and the word "Houston") during the second round of the playoffs. He lets his barber get creative with the artwork, a lot of trust for a man who came into his life pretty randomly.

"I was somewhere," Artest says. "Somehow I wound up in Disney World. I was in Orlando, I found a barber out there."

You think Artest is carefree? So is Battier, in his own way.

"I don't really care what anyone thinks of me as a person or a player if you're not my wife or if you're not my good friends," Battier says. "I don't care if I'm never friends with anyone on their team."

Both find themselves with the unenviable task of guarding Kobe Bryant in this series, and neither one seems to mind if he goes for 40 on them. Artest doesn't worry whether talking trash to Kobe will only cause him to turn the heat up higher -- he even jokes that it would make the series more enjoyable for the fans. But his ego won't get hurt if any of the buckets come on his watch.

"It's all about the team," Artest says. "It's all about which team is going to be better at the end of the night."

Battier keeps sticking a hand in Kobe's face, and if Kobe's response is to continue to hit jumper after jumper, all Battier does is put his head down and trudge downcourt, even if Kobe is taunting him.

"There's nothing I can say to him back that's going to erase the fact that he scored two points on me," Battier said. "I learned long ago that I'm not a good trash-talker, so don't even try. It sounds silly coming out of my mouth."

He'll save his words for his teammates, words that complement Artest's, an ongoing conversation that continues as we reach the middle of May.