Search This Blog

Thursday, April 23, 2009

Rondo fast becoming Celts' leader


Jackie MacMullan has an excellent piece on Celtics point guard Rajon Rondo. As I wrote about earlier this week, Celtics coach Doc Rivers 'gave Rondo the keys' to the team during the Game 2 118-115 victory over the Bulls. Rondo has had it tough since he teamed up with the Big 3 (Garnett, Allen, Pierce) due to the fact that since each player wants the ball, only one of them gets it:
Sometimes during the regular season when Allen gestured for the ball, Rondo stared right through one of the best pure shooters in the game to feed Pierce on the opposite wing because he knew he needed to keep the Truth involved. When Garnett established position in the post and signaled he was open, his arms flailing for emphasis, Rondo blithely glided past him, exploiting the seam in the defense the double-team on KG created.
Those decisions did not make him popular, but they made him respected.
"He earned our trust," Pierce confirmed. "When you think about it, [his job] is probably a little intimidating. I can't imagine being a second- or third-year player and trying to divvy up the ball between three All-Stars."
Rondo had always been confident, but has maturation process has taken time. His body language was a huge problem:
Two seasons ago, before the banners and the plaudits and applause, when Rondo was in charge of a team that won just 24 games, he'd throw a no-look bullet and when it was dropped out of bounds he'd roll his eyes in exasperation. If he set up a shooter for the open jumper and it clanged off the rim, the shooter was subjected to the Rondo stare, a look steeped in disdain and aggravation.
Rivers hauled his supposed floor leader into his office and asked him, "Do you know your teammates hate playing with you?"
Rondo displayed no emotion, but his coach's comments left him struggling to breathe.
"The point guard has to be the guy that brings energy to the team," Rivers chided him. "You can't be the guy that sucks it away. Your moodiness is affecting us. Change it."
Rondo retreated to his apartment to process Rivers' rebuke.
"It was a reality check," Rondo admitted. "I wasn't positive. If I threw a pass they didn't catch, instead of saying, 'Let's get the next one,' I'd make a face. It wasn't what I said. It was more my body language."
This was not a new refrain. When Rondo signed with Kentucky, coach Tubby Smith salivated over the potential of a "world class athlete" who he believed could clear 7 feet in the high jump or challenge the collegiate record in the 100 meters.
Smith's preseason drills included sprinting a series of 200-yard dashes. Rondo developed a habit of running at half speed, then casually turning it up a notch at the finish line.
"His teammates were working so hard, and at the last minute he's blowing past them," Tubby said. "They knew he was better. But when he wouldn't show it every time ..."
The kid wouldn't subscribe to Smith's walk-it-up style of play, so he often highjacked the tempo of the game, pushing his own basketball agenda. He set a school record for steals, but had no perimeter game and no patience for the mistakes of his peers. He was inconsistent; brilliant one day, barely engaged the next, alternately delighting and enraging his teammates.
"If you want them to respect you, you have to make them better," Smith said.
"But coach," Rondo complained, "they keep dropping the ball."
"Rajon," Smith answered, "then figure out a pass they can catch."
Rondo's indifference left Smith commiserating with his assistants late into the night. "We'd ask ourselves, 'How can we get Rajon to go beyond?'" he said.
Soon Ainge and Rivers were posing the same question. It all came too easily for Rondo, and it wasn't until the arrival of the Big Three that he met his athletic match. KG, Pierce and Allen demonstrated the one trait he lacked -- consistency. He dutifully (and silently) monitored their habits. He noticed each of them came to the arena at the same time every game day. Allen had a litany of specific rituals to prepare himself, including a pregame shower.
The point guard's own pregame routine now includes five showers a day: when he wakes up, after shootaround, after his nap, after he completes his pregame warm-up at the Garden and after the actual game. Before Garnett went down, Rondo also began joining KG on the bench in the pregame huddle, waiting until Rivers declared "Let's go!" before standing up. It was something Garnett had done since he arrived in Boston.
"Then one day I look over and there's Rondo," said Allen. "We laugh about it, but you know what? He's learning, watching all the time. Some guys try to get through this league by the seat of their pants.
"But he's become much more aware of what his team needs," observed Lakers point guard Derek Fisher. "He's learned that sometimes passing up an open shot is the best thing he can do.
"That's what separated him from other guys this season. He's fine with 8 points and 10 assists or 18 points and 10 assists. That's maturity."