Maybe you remember these famous words from Commissioner David Stern at the 1999 NBA Draft: “With the 15th pick in first round, the New York Knicks select Frederic Weis of France.” The Chicago Bulls made the 16th pick in that draft Ron Artest, a Queensbridge native.
Six years later, Artest is an all-star and NBA Defensive Player of the Year. In pre-season Larry Bird called Artest “the best player in the league on both sides of the ball.” Where the hell is Frederic Weis?
Shame on the Knicks if they get fooled twice. The answer is easy: Get Artest.
You say he’s a head case. Well, that’s what they said about Rasheed Wallace. Larry Brown made Rasheed see the light. Now Wallace wears a gaudy ring. He’s played in two Finals, and was the first player Brown hugged the night he returned to Auburn Hills.
You ask, “Why can’t Brown rehabilitate Marbury?” Marbury is all sulk and no fight. He has diminished in value with each successive year. Artest burrowed his way to NBA stardom, increasing in value and stature with each season.
And Artest is all about what Larry Brown is about: defense.
If Artest wants the ball more, he’ll get it on this team, which needs a credible star who can take the spotlight off of young players who aren’t ready for it and veterans who can’t handle it.
Not only can Artest handle New York, he needs it. He can’t run a hip-hop label out of Indianapolis. He can’t spend another year baking pies with his septuagenarian neighbors. His mom is here, his friends are here—and he would be here if the Knicks had done what they should’ve done in 1999.
Ron just wants to come home, where he belongs. Lord knows the Garden needs some fight back in the dog they put out there now.
SULLIVAN: At this point, if the Knicks do damn near anything it has to be better than what they have now. But that is the trick. Sometimes the best move is the one you don’t make. It is mighty tempting for the Knicks to pursue the Golden Fleece that is Ron Artest, but they must resist.
It is not 1999. Artest is a solid ballplayer. Great defense. But he is an out-and-out head case, which was the knock on him in 1999. That was when the Knicks should have gotten him. They didn’t, and doing it seven years later won’t change a thing.
Artest has not gotten any better. If he can’t keep calm in Indiana, just imagine what the carbon dioxide-laced air of 7th Ave. will do to him. He’ll make like Ozzy Osbourne and bite the head off of a pigeon. That might be fun to see, but it won’t make for better basketball at the Garden.
The Knicks need to get rid of Marbury. I’d take a used car for him. Then they need to develop the young players like Crawford, Frye, Robinson and Lee, rather than going after damaged goods.
Artest is just another Marbury. Granted, he plays better defense [And doesn’t have a giant, disgusting alien head.—The Eds.] and is more team oriented—or is he? The folks in Indiana don’t see it that way. He was given his shot there and made him a star and now he wants out—just like Marbury did in Minnesota, only to infect the Suns and Knicks with his selfish, ego-driven play.
Ron-Ron should be exiled to Memphis, where he can walk with Elvis and maybe find his way back. Bringing him back to NYC is a recipe for disaster. Look what coming home did for Marbury. Artest will fare no better.
A fool who travels to escape himself may wake up in a new city, but underneath his uniform he is still the same fool he always was.
HOLLANDER: Artest is just another Marbury? With apologies to David Mamet, who told Marbury that he could work with men?
Marbury has been coddled and ass-kissed since he can remember. Artest rose up from New York City’s largest housing project and literally fought for everything he has. They’re two entirely different kinds of trouble.
At this juncture, Artest reminds us of—dare I say it?—Bernard King, another native son who put his troubles behind him and came back home to New York where he flourished, transforming himself into arguably the greatest Knick ever. And Hubie Brown is to Larry Brown as Ron Artest is to Bernard King.
Just picture it: A running, hustling, defending Knicks team led by a fearless Artest and supported by the young and hungry Channing Frye, David Lee, Eddy Curry and Trevor Ariza. As in the Hubie Brown era, Larry Brown would have these guys pressing and trapping and driving other NBA teams mad. Like Larry Brown’s Sixers and Pistons, this team could play the “right way” right into the playoffs—and rock the Garden in the process.
With Artest around, I doubt a disappointed Larry Brown would have to ask, like he did a couple of weeks ago, why teammates did not come to aid little Nate Robinson after he was fly-swatted to the floor by Milwaukee center Jamaal Magliore.
Wouldn’t you love to see a full-on brawl at the Garden? Artest is just the man to jump-start the Brooklyn-New York Rivalry by rapping “Wince” Carter in the mouth. In short, Artest can make basketball at MSG relevant again.
Isiah can do this. He just needs to hold onto the youth by orchestrating a multi-team trade. If only he knew how.
SULLIVAN: OK, Hollander, step back from the window.
I have to admit your enthusiasm is compelling. But Artest—while an intriguing player—is no Bernard King. I would love to see that scenario with Artest running the Knicks like wild and free young men. That is a thought-provoking image, but one that only lives on in your mind.
Artest should not even be mentioned in the same sentence as Bernard King. He cannot lead a team out of the wilderness, because he himself is lost in the forest of his own ego and needs. Artest is looking for his payday—and he ruined any team cred he’d had by burning down the Pacers.
The Knicks need a steady hand and youth. Artest would come here, add some excitement briefly, and then melt down from the pressure. He might be a New Yorker but his psyche is country boy all the way. That is why he flourished in Indiana—he only only basketball to deal with.
The Garden is big time. Only men can make it here, which is why Marbury is wilting like a Korean deli rose. Artest is the same way. It is “me-first” with these guys and “me” in a city as crowded as New York just won’t cut it. Players who understand basketball make it here. Glory hounds cannot stand being naked in the Garden.
The Knicks are a lost cause. Maybe Larry Brown has a master plan, but his boss Isiah certainly doesn’t. If Brown doesn’t have a plan, he will cut and run by the end of this season. So with that in mind, this team has to be built from within by the young turks they have.
The idea of trading for Artest smacks of Steinbrenner-like panic. This team is in enough trouble without another swollen-headed psycho gumming up the works.
