Mountain climber

Sporting News, The, May 26, 1997 by Brad Rock

In a year-and-a-half, Utah's Bryon Russell has gone from 12th man to one of the most valuable members of the Jazz

He swings around the corner and stops cold.

"Uh-oh," he says.

It's after practice during the Jazz's first-round playoff series with the Clippers, and Bryon Russell is on his way out the locker room when the realization hits him: media everywhere. Whoa.

He smiles that 900-watt smile, backs slowly away and heads back toward the locker room.

Since then, things have only gotten worse for Russell, who had grown used to the fact people would refer to him as "BY-ron." But the fact he now has to worry about getting too much attention is an indication of how much stronger the Jazz have become.

Russell still isn't exactly a household name, even now. He ranks somewhere between Boutros Boutros-Ghali and Lamond Murray on the familiarity scale. He's certainly not the first person that comes to mind when you think of the Jazz. Nor is he the second, third, fourth or even fifth. Everyone knows Stockton, Malone, Hornacek. Most basketball fans even know of enigmatic swingman Chris Morris, who spent seven years in New Jersey. Then there's the scowling Antoine Carr. But Russell?

Slowly, people are catching on. He is averaging 14 points a game in the playoffs and giving the Jazz a dimension they have rarely enjoyed--a small forward who doesn't melt at the prospect of taking open perimeter shots. That, along with his athleticism and defense, makes Russell the key to the Jazz's aspirations of getting past the Rockets, who outnumber the Jazz three future Hall of Famers to two and into the Finals. "I think the thing that gives us the hope that this is our year is we have guys from all five positions contributing," guard Jeff Hornacek says. "This year, we feel no matter who is in the game, they can hold their own, especially Bryon Russell."

Against the Lakers in the second round, Russell buried open 3s. He slashed through a Lakers defense that was supposed to be quick enough to handle him. And on defense, he stayed with his man step for step. Lakers coach Del Harris pointed to Russell as the difference in Utah's 4-1 series win. In Game 4, he scored a career playoff-high 29 points and grabbed 10 rebounds--including two on the offensive end that he converted into four points, killing a late Lakers run. In Game 5, he made two key 3-pointers and finished with 22 points. For the series, he averaged 16.2 points--second only to Karl Malone.

"They shouldn't have taken me lightly if I was the difference," the 6 foot-7 Russell says.

If the Lakers didn't exactly stay up nights worrying about Russell, it stands to reason. For years, small forward has been the team's least stable position. Harris admitted the standard take on the Jazz always has been to help on Malone or John Stockton and dare the small forward to beat you. You knew Malone would be homesteading in the middle and Stockton would be trying to dissect you with scalpel-like precision. You knew Jeff Hornacek would be waiting on the wing for you to relax. But you also knew whoever was playing small forward might lose his head and throw the ball into the luxury suites.

Inconsistency has dogged that position for Utah throughout the Stockton-Malone era. Blue Edwards made two stops in Utah, neither time convincing the coaches he could play defense the way they wanted. Tyrone Corbin started off strong with the team, but his shooting tailed off and he was traded with a second-round pick to Atlanta in September 1994 for Adam Keefe. David Benoit, a gifted athlete who was expected by fans to be another Scottie Pippen, spent five seasons tantalizing the team with his promise, but when it came time to hit big perimeter shots in the playoffs, his tries landed in a different ZIP code.

Why Russell didn't end up failing at small forward is a mystery in some ways. A second-round pick (45th overall) from Long Beach State, he gave the Jazz an aspect they have always craved--athletic ability and defensive toughness. He averaged 17 minutes per game his rookie year, 1993-94, and started 48 times, mostly when Benoit was injured. But the next season, Benoit established himself as the best small forward, and Russell's minutes fell to 14 per game. In '95-96, that figure dipped to single digits. When Russell did play, he was left alone for the perimeter shot. And teams would do just as the Lakers did this year: sag in to help on Malone, move out to the top to double-team Stockton and simply leave Russell open for a 20-foot jumper. Truth be known, he didn't have one. Only an injury that kept forward Jamie Watson out for all but 16 games kept Russell on the roster.

"I wasn't frustrated about being behind David (Benoit)," Russell says. "I was frustrated by not playing at all. I just decided I needed to be patient."

Born in Chicago on New Year's Eve in 1970, Russell spent his early childhood in a tough neighborhood on the city's south side, dreaming of playing for the Cubs. His mother, a single parent, sent him to San Bernardino, Calif., when he was 11 to live with his grandmother. His mother arrived two months later.