Showtime (Jeff Pearlman) by Jeff Pearlman

Showtime (Jeff Pearlman) by Jeff Pearlman

Author:Jeff Pearlman [Pearlman, Jeff]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2014-03-04T00:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER 12

EARL

When an organization falls one game short in a championship series, it’s often more inclined to make drastic off-season changes than had it gone, say, 22-60. There’s something tauntingly painful about coming so close, then having to start all over again. Executives tend to believe if they simply add one more big piece, glory will ensue.

In the aftermath of the Boston heartbreak, Jerry West, the Lakers savvy general manager, refused to panic. On the one hand, the Celtics had exposed his team as somewhat soft and, to a certain degree, unable to play slow-down basketball for prolonged stretches. On the other hand, they had come t-h-i-s close to winning a third title in five years, and the roster remained loaded.

Therefore, instead of trying to package some players in a deal, West looked toward June 19, 1984, when all twenty-four teams would gather inside Madison Square Garden for the NBA Draft.

One of the league’s keen talent evaluators, West prepared for the event like few others. He was obsessive about getting it right, and insisted he and his crew of scouts and assistants go through every possible player once . . . twice . . . ten times. A couple of days before the draft, he would hand Josh Rosenfeld, the media relations director, a list with four or five player names. “If you know any of the local sportswriters or sports information directors, give them a call,” West would say. “Find out what you can about these guys.” Were there a one-armed point guard averaging 22 points per game for the University of Delaware, West wanted to know about him. Were there a 7-foot-10 sheepherder working on a farm in Djibouti, there damn well better be a scouting report. “Jerry treated all Laker employees wonderfully,” said Gene Tormohlen, a longtime scout with the organization. “But he rightly had high expectations. He was all about the team winning.”

Because the Lakers reached the finals, they owned the twenty-third spot in the draft, a place where no Akeem Olajuwons (the University of Houston center—picked first by the Rockets) or Michael Jordans (North Carolina guard—drafted third by Chicago) were generally found. There was, however, one name among the second-rate rubble that carried some weight inside the Forum offices, one name that leapt off of a page otherwise filled with uninspiring second-rate nobodies like Cory Blackwell, Tony Costner and Steve Burtt.

“Earl Jones,” said West, years later. “Earl fucking Jones.”

Yes, Earl fucking Jones*—easily the nation’s finest 7-foot, 190-pound senior Division II center. West had often told people, “If you’re gonna make a mistake in the draft, make sure it’s a big mistake,” and Jones was, without fail, big. As a freshman at Mount Hope High School in Mount Hope, West Virginia, Jones stood 6-foot-4. Three years later, he was 6-foot-10 and, as a senior at Spingarn High in Washington, DC, exactly 7 feet. “I like being tall,” he said. “Except when you have to duck.”

During his final prep season, there was talk around the league that Jones might leave directly for the NBA.



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