Report from the Wizards game

I just got to watch our boys from as close as I've seen a game -- 5th row, right behind the visitors' bench -- and was struck, more than anything, by the significance of personality, as opposed to size, in each player's performance. Our small guys play so big, and our big guys too often play so small. I know we've all heard and said this, and I've seen it on TV or from a distance (last year I had upper-deck seats when the Rockets came to D.C.), but up close it's more than a figure of speech. Our guards literally occupy more space, physically and psychologically, than some of our frontcourt players. This is true on the glass as well as the perimeter. Take out shotblocking and post defense, and there is virtually no difference other than the greater range of space our smaller guys can cover quickly. Watching them double-team, snag boards, and dart in for alley-oops really brings this home.

First off, Kelvin Cato looks like he is clinically depressed. We all know he's sullen, but I saw at least three occasions last night when other Rockets who were standing next to him had to slap his butt or gesture to him to show him where he was supposed to be, which was most definitely not the place where he was standing at that moment. We're talking about this happening 10 or 15 seconds into a 24-second defensive possession, which is just inexcusable. There's no time for this nonsense.

Second, I was surprised to see how happy and comfortable Hakeem looked. He was in great spirits, joking around on the bench, and looked like he had a pretty good idea which parts of his old game would fit into our guard-driven offense (and how often) and which parts wouldn't. He doesn't look lost out there anymore. He looks like a role player who has a few tremendous talents (shotblocking, intimidating guards who come into the lane, shooting clean jumpers, trying the occasional baseline spin or fadeaway) and knows when and how to use them. He seemed to be getting his share of the ball, and he seemed to content with that share, which is obviously a lot less than he used to get. But most of all he seemed to fit in and to be comfortable about it.

Third, some of the players who were most aggressive out there weren't the ones I expected. Thomas and Anderson, whose faces look as passive as Cato's, made some very in-your-face moves. This became important as the Rocks' perimeter shooting in the first half was slightly colder than the Nasdaq. I think of Mobley as a penetrator, but he seemed more likely to pull up and shoot, whereas Anderson was going hard toward the basket at every opportunity.

Finally, I was impressed by the almost invincible cockiness of our guards. Nothing gets these guys down. They laid one brick after another and were getting totally smoked by the Wizards shooters at the other end, but they never for a moment looked psyched out or even fazed. And while I think this is basically a good thing, it appears to be inseparable from the "jack" problem. Francis kept shooting, and pretty soon he found the target. Mobley, on the other hand, went up several times for jumpers with a man in his face, bricked the shot, and came away without the slightest regret on his face. One time, Rudy looked like he was yelling at Cuttino for taking a quick shot without looking for his teammates, and Cuttino more or less barked back at Rudy (it looked like he was asking, what did you expect me to do?) on his way back down the court.

I forgive Mobley because his quickness seems to force fouls and gets him to the line often enough that he racks up points even when his shooting is cold. But imagine what he could do if he grew out of the "jack" syndrome.

Finally, it's quite something to see Moochie play D from ground level. He's so quick, short, jumpy, pesky, weird, and -- forgive me, Mrs. Norris -- butt-ugly that he has got to be a serious distraction to the other team. Several times I saw him jerk back and forth to double-team the guard with the ball while keeping tabs on his own man nearby. He's moving so fast, it's like trying to eat dinner with a fly buzzing in your face. Pretty soon there's a slightly errant pass or dribble, and Moochie or Cuttino or Steve gets his hand on the ball, and boom, everyone's heading the other way. (Then, of course, we fumble the ball right back.) On several occasions when the Wizards turned over the ball in these situations, I would swear that half the reason was the distraction posed by Moochie.

 

If that game was a sellout, it's a joke. There were more seats empty than full. My friend who went to the game with me said the DC police should go to the homes of people who have Wizards tickets and order them either to go to the damn game or give the tickets to somebody who will go. But nobody wants to go see their team suck night after night. What's amazing is that people buy these tickets in the first place, as though they didn't realize the Wizards were going to suck.

By the way, the food they sell at MCI center is possibly the most overpriced crappy arena "food" in the country. I had what ought to be called the Juwan Howard Chicken Sandwich ($5 for a bacon-thick, tennis-ball-wide slice of chicken on an empty hamburger bun) and the Rod Strickland Beer ($6 and totally flat).