Strickland is talented, but he brings a lot of baggage

Sporting News, The, Feb 15, 1999 by Dave D'Alessandro

For weeks, Wizards G.M. Wes Unseld and agent David Falk engaged in the ultimate stare-down, $28 million apart in their individual assessments of Rod Strickland's worth, with a deadline looming and the animosity building. Unseld, aware that Falk had no leverage, stood hard on his offer of three years and $27 million; Falk, unable to broker a deal and considering having his client sign for $1 million in Houston or some other contending outpost, wanted not a penny less than $55 million over five seasons.

In the end, they compromised at $40 million for four years last week to complete a negotiation that included Washington owner Abe Pollin's observation that Falk hates his guts. Strickland signed the contract, took a physical, participated in a practice and proved again that he is Washington's best player with his reserve performance in its season-opening loss.

It had to end up this way, of course, because with Strickland, things are always delayed for some reason or another, mostly because of his career-long punctuality problem. And with Strickland, the Wizards are a realistic playoff contender. Without him, this is what the Wizards are: The Warriors, only with a newer building that would be quieter than a sulky Trappist.

Speaking of which, Strickland has always been one of the league's more austere characters, a Rodeo Drive talent with a South Bronx attitude. If Unseld and Falk ever fulfilled their true calling and made glowering an Olympic sport, Rodney would beat them both to the medal stand, proudly displaying that death mask of a face again; he looks at you like a hammer eyes a nail.

He has had an adverse reaction to every coach he has ever played for, from Rick Pitino ("Totally unbearable. I can take the screaming, but he tried to humiliate you") to P.J. Carlesimo ("I don't like him, and you can write that"), which is partly why he has played for nine different ones in 10 years.

There's a reason one of the league's most gifted point guards has played for four teams in 10 years. There's a reason the coaches continually pass Strickland up when they're asked to fill out their All-Star ballots. There's a reason it took him 10 years to make an All-NBA team. The reason is this: He is an insufferable pain in the caboose.

We'd renumerate Strickland's transgressions over the past decade if this week's edition contained more than 300 pages, but suffice it to say, little things like missed flights and perpetual tardiness cannot get in the way of teams loving his talent to death. In a perfect world, you no longer have to worry about a player whose resume includes missing 21 games after breaking his hand in a barroom brawl or being found in a military base saloon nine hours before the noon tipoff for a playoff game.

Basically, you only worry about how well he and Juwan Howard will run the pick-and-roll and whether he'll hit Mitch Richmond in the hands on time with his drive-and-kick game. No matter what he's doing at 3 a.m., no matter how strong his junk food binging may be, you give Rodney $40 million because of three overriding reasons: Nobody penetrates like Rodney can, nobody draws whistles like Rodney can and nobody finishes around the rim like Rodney can, with the possible exception of those guys who play over it.

He is the league's reigning assist champ (10.5 per game), a remarkably effective rebounder (5.3 average last year) and he means everything to this historically mediocre team. Even the new franchise player knows it.

"The main reason I came here," Richmond pointed out last week, "was to play alongside Rod."

So everybody wins. Management is happy. Falk is happy. Strickland is happy. Richmond is delirious, playing with his first top-shelf point guard since the Run-TMC days at Golden State. So you can imagine our anguish when we must make this suggestion: The Wizards are still a mediocre lot.

For all the talent in the backcourt, Washington is still a donut team and will remain as such until Gheorghe Muresan gets back--if he ever gets back. The center-by-committee is still composed of the dauntless but overmatched trio of Terry Davis, Otis Thorpe and Ben Wallace. Howard is the fixture at power forward, but he's not the dominant low-post scorer the team needs. And nobody knows whether the new small forward, Calbert Cheaney, has any aptitude for the position, but everyone knows he's undersized for the position. Some even believe that Richmond and Strickland are Washington's best rebounders.

So for now, here's what they have: "We have a team that can shoot the ball," says coach Bernie Bickerstaff, undoubtedly including Tracy Murray and Tim Legler in his appraisal. "I just don't know if there has ever been a perimeter blue collar team. But that's what we're going to have to be."

Incongruous, to say the least. But with Strickland around, at least there are possibilities.

RELATED ARTICLE: A learning process

It's safe to say that Larry Hughes is one of the best basketball players St. Louis University ever had. But don't expect him to be a star overnight with the 76ers. The off-guard will score his share of points off the bench (entering this week, he's averaging 7.5 points per game), but he'll have a tough time defending veterans such as Reggie Miller, Steve Smith and Mitch Richmond.