Chron: With these Rockets some things never change

Feb. 8, 2004, 8:35PM

With these Rockets, some things never change
By MICKEY HERSKOWITZ
Copyright 2004 Houston Chronicle

Then the Rockets edge Chicago at the buzzer and mount a huge rally to overtake Atlanta in the fourth quarter, the signs can be considered nothing but encouraging.

Our euphoria is tempered only by the fact that the Bulls and Hawks are two of the weakest teams in the NBA and have lost 72 games between them.

Which leaves us still trying to get a navigational fix on the Rockets, who, contrary to popular belief, were not put on this earth to torture their fans. You look around the league, and you do not find many teams blessed with more talent or stability.

They have not yet had to overcome a serious injury to a starter. By NBA standards, where relationships are measured by the hour, they have not undergone a major remodeling.

Against every team they face, with one exception, the Rockets own the biggest of mismatches. Yao Ming breathes a different air, and operates at a different altitude, than the centers who oppose him -- other than Shaquille O'Neal.

Even there, quirky injuries have caused Shaq to miss or perform at less than capacity in half of the encounters between the Rockets and Lakers. Shaq has the bulk, strength and rude disposition that Yao finds troubling.

Defying the old Wilt Chamberlain credo, that nobody loves Goliath, the 7-foot-6 Yao continues to be an international fan favorite. But rival teams have had a season to study him, and he has not improved noticeably over his rookie year.

He hasn't mastered the quick steps spinning to his left or right. He lacks the resolute power of even a Charles Barkley, and the wide caboose, to send bodies sprawling and back his way to the bucket.

But the big knock against Yao is a curious one. He is too much the sportsman, too gentle a giant, to impose his will on the nebbishes who hover around him like bugs.

There are nights when teams have no answer for Yao, and his presence enables the Rockets to launch their 3-pointers with little resistance. And when they are on target, Steve Francis, Cuttino Mobley, Jim Jackson and Maurice Taylor can torch the cords. There are other nights when the Rockets play mad-dog defense, but they haven't put together both of these traits with any real frequency.

Their pattern has been to win three, lose four, win three -- short streaks of feast and famine.

They have performed with this unevenness, this inconsistency, in the past, so it isn't some strange affliction that surfaced with the appearance of Jeff Van Gundy.

Although not a great deal has changed in their style or efficiency under Van Gundy, these Rockets often seem unfamiliar to us. We like what we have seen of the tightly wound former Knicks coach. We like his candor, his willingness to expose his frustration and confusion when his players underachieve.

When he says, "We are what we are," he punctures the popular coaching myth that the game is too technical for anyone without a degree from Princeton to understand. He also deflates the notion that the Rockets are an elite team and need only to shed their cocoon to show us their pretty butterfly wings.

We have avoided, up to this point, mentioning the name that lurks behind every assumption about the Rockets. Rudy Tomjanovich. There, we said it. The cold truth is, the Rockets are a different team without Rudy as their coach. Not necessarily better or worse, just different.

He came with the franchise 33 years ago, and some of us still haven't come to grips with the fact it all ended when his battle with bladder cancer led to his resignation. He is winning that battle, but trying to accept the Rockets without Rudy T is like trying to accept someone other than Sean Connery as 007.

We are almost 10 years removed from the two championship seasons, four years removed from the playoffs. And here the Rockets are, eight games over .500, very much in the race for a playoff berth, even as they seem to enjoy aggravating Van Gundy on most game nights.

There are two reasons for this. The more important one is that the players have not yet bonded with Van Gundy as they had with Tomjanovich. How can you not feel connected to a guy who had played on this team for 11 years, served as a scout and assistant coach, and then was head coach for 11 more seasons?

Ego didn't drive Tomjanovich, and it certainly doesn't drive his successor. Van Gundy almost relishes referring to how homely he is and how rumpled his clothes are. But this is a very sharp guy who is not unattractive. He simply has a mournful appearance, so after a Rockets loss he looks unhappy, and after a win he looks unhappy.

A great basketball coach once said that to appear successful, one who chose the profession needed an image shaped by two conditions: white hair for the look of distinction and hemorrhoids for the look of distress.

At this point, Rockets fans may feel more anguish than is justified. The new coach suffers enough for all of us.