http://espn.go.com/nba/columns/bucher_ric/1529659.html Franchise relocates his place on the court -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- By Ric Bucher ESPN The Magazine The sigh says a lot, as sighs so often do. "Everybody wants the ball," says Stevie Francis. (Sigh.) "So I'm just trying to keep everybody happy." This is not merely Francis' explanation for why his shot attempts have steadily dwindled with each passing month of the season. It's also why if anyone has a gripe about taking a backseat to Mike Bibby for selection to the 2004 Olympic team, it's Francis. As in waaaayyyy ahead of Allen Iverson. Steve Francis' points are down but his assists are up in the month of March. If, that is, my understanding of why Bibby was picked ahead of Iverson is correct -- that Bibby is considered more of a fundamentally sound 'tweener guard who can play within a structured system as opposed to having the system structured around him. USA Basketball's recent struggles in international competition suggest that it mght be better served with more modest cohesive talent over unbridled superior talent. The counter argument, of course, is that Iverson is Iverson, a whirling dervish of a threat that no non-NBA international player could possibly be ready to contain, because no non-NBA international player has seen anything like him. Both arguments, however, can be made for Francis. He's as close to bridled superior talent as you can get. He remains the Rockets' scoring leader and most lethal make-something-out-of-nothing threat, but he also has assumed the tough role of seeing that Yao Ming, Cuttino Mobley, Glen Rice, Eddie Griffin, James Posey and Mo Taylor are not merely getting their share of touches, but that whoever is rolling in a particular game or quarter isn't being squeezed by the others. AI never developed that kind of magnanimity, and Sacramento's offense is naturally magnanimous, pre-empting Bibby's need to make such decisions. "As much as I love Yao, if he's not being aggressive, I have to go to the other options," Francis said. "And there are times I have to say, 'Yo, this guy just hit four in a row. We need to keep giving it to him.' Then whatever I get, I'm cool with that. I'm told -- I don't know, but I've watched -- that that's the way you have to play to get to the playoffs." If he isn't sure, it's because only three Rockets (Rice, Mobley, Kelvin Cato) know firsthand how a postseason-worthy team operates, and none had Stevie's job of leading the way. Posey doesn't have any experience, either, but he likes what he sees. "Stevie is doing a good job," Posey said. "He's getting everybody involved. Everybody's getting touches. If we plan to have an extended season, that's the kind of game we have to play." So why exactly is AI considered a dark-horse MVP candidate and Francis gets no mention? The Rockets' 37 wins in the far tougher Western Conference are easily comparable to the 76ers' 41 wins in the East. His crossover is nearly as lethal as AI's, his shooting percentages are far higher, he's a better rebounder and, by gambling less and sticking to the game plan more, a better defender. He gets to the line (7.9 free-throw attempts per game) nearly as often as AI (8.9) and far more than any other point guard, especially Bibby (3.3). Take away his refusal to be drafted by Vancouver -- a prescient stance, in hindsight -- and his citizenship scores are no lower than anybody already named to the Olympic squad. Most important, as he has demonstrated in the Rockets' stretch run for a playoff spot, he is willing and able to conform his game to whatever is believed to be best for his team. That he's not totally convinced his reduced personal offense is the right way to go makes his reduction of 18½ shots per game in November to a flat 13 a night in March so impressive. Not to pick on AI, but it's impossible to imagine him winning games for the 76ers taking a baker's dozen shots a night. “ I watched Allen (Iverson) play one night and he scored every time he touched the ball, and his teammates still weren't happy. I don't want that. I don't want guys not to go to dinner with me. ” — Steve Francis "I watched Allen play one night and he scored every time he touched the ball," Francis said, "and his teammates still weren't happy. I don't want that. I don't want guys not to go to dinner with me." Hard to imagine AI saying that, either, though it sounds like the attitude you'd want from a guy asked to mesh halfway around the world in short-order with other stars accustomed to having the ball a lot. As for the sigh? Well, anyone who has ignored what they do best to make those around them more efficient knows the answer. It's the pilot making coffee for the flight attendants. The CEO answering a few phones for the receptionist. The architect pounding a few nails for the foreman. Remember how awkward Jason Kidd sometimes looked when called upon to be a scorer? This is the reverse. It's not that Francis is opposed to doing selfless work; if the Rockets edge the Suns for the last playoff spot, his restraint in the face of Stephon Marbury's personal challenge could prove to be the difference. Steph, at one point taunting Francis that he was a "real all-star," hoisted 83 shots over four games to Francis' 47. The Rockets won the series and playoff tiebreaker 3-1. The NBA, of course, did the Rockets a monstrous favor by rewarding Francis for his selflessness, naming him the Western Conference Player of the Week earlier this month even though his scoring average over the 3-0 run (19.7) was below his season mark (21.9). It's not that Francis has completely stopped being a scoring threat as much as he's reading the game and seeing what needs to be done on a night-by-night basis. Sometimes that means taking eight shots, as he did Monday against the Clippers. Sometimes it means taking over, as he did the night before to torch the Kings for 38, though only after his teammates shot a collective 22.5 percent in the first half, Stevie's 70 percent shooting alone keeping them within nine. Changing roles requires ego-stowage, patience with teammates and tolerance for the knuckleheads who read a box score and complain that he either shot too much or not enough based strictly on numbers. Ask Kobe how hard it is to switch from scorer to set-up man and back again, something he admitted has thrown him for a loop of late. "Maybe I'll put on 10 or 15 pounds over the summer and become a shooting guard," Francis said. "What do you think?" I think that shouldn't be an option, because the summer weather in Puerto Rico, site of the pre-Olympic qualifying tournament, isn't conducive to putting on weight.
