NBA can use a dose of Birdman's color and energy

The Birdman's slapstick performance at the 2005 All-Star Slam Dunk Contest had the crowd rolling in the aisles. Ezra Shaw/Getty Images

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Before he was grounded two years ago for violating the NBA's anti-drug policy, Chris (Birdman) Andersen was one of the NBA's more colorful characters.

Who can forget the way the 6-10 former Hornets and Nuggets forward used to cross his arms and flap his hands like bird wings to ignite the crowd after dunks (hence his nickname)? Or the way he'd wear his hair, like some kind of mad scientist who had stuck a fork in an electrical socket?

And, of course, there was his infamous performance at the 2005 All-Star Slam Dunk Contest, when he brought the Denver crowd to hysterics by needing eight tries to complete his first attempt.

Andersen's high entertainment value is just one reason NBA fans should be glad to see the heavily tattooed, wild-haired pogo stick back on the court. His return became official Tuesday when the NBA and Players Association agreed to reinstate him after a lengthy review process. The Hornets immediately re-signed Andersen, who offers modest stats (5.1 points, 4.8 rebounds and 1.3 blocks in his five-year career) but invaluable energy and crowd appeal every time he steps on the court.

"I'm just excited to get back on that hardwood floor and start playing again," Andersen said by phone Tuesday night. "I'm really thankful to the Players Association and to David Stern for giving me the opportunity. I've worked really hard the last two years. I realize that to get this second chance is a real honor."

While history is littered with examples of drug users who get another chance only to blow it (see Roy Tarpley), Andersen seems worth the risk. Since his suspension two years ago for "drugs of abuse" (i.e., amphetamines, cocaine, opiates and PCP), he has made an effort to clean up his act.

First, he acknowledged his drug use right away. He didn't challenge the test results, or claim he was framed. He then completed a 30-day program at a rehab facility in Malibu, Calif., in which his daily routine was controlled and monitored at all times. Despite the facility's idyllic location, Andersen said it was anything but a country club.

"You're not sitting around sunbathing. You're not going to the beach and surfing," he says. "It's a lockdown facility. You're signed in for 30 days, and you can't get out. They tell you what to do the whole time you're there."

Once Andersen got his life back together off the court, he began putting in the heavy work needed to get back into NBA condition. He spent much of the past two years working out diligently at his home in Denver, and at a nationally-known trainer's facility in Las Vegas. During those Vegas sessions, he often played and lifted weights with NBA stars such as Kevin Garnett, Chauncey Billups, Baron Davis and Jermaine O'Neal, among others.

"I had a lot of time on my hands, and I put it to good use," Andersen says. "I worked on every aspect of my game. It was like two-a-days [in training camp]. A lot of times it was three-a-days, because I would go into the weight room afterward.

"My goal wasn't just to get back to the NBA. It was also to get my life back together, to put all the pieces together to make sure it all fit. After I did that, then I was able to reach out for the dream again."

Some sports fans will see him on ESPN and say to themselves, "Big deal! I'd play in the NBA for one-tenth of what he made. And I wouldn't throw it away by taking drugs either!" But some of them don't know what it's like to walk in Andersen's shoes.

They might not know, for example, that he grew up dirt poor, with a mom who was making $15,000 working three jobs, and an artist dad who had to tour the country to sell his work. They might not know that he spent some of his early teenage years in a Dallas orphanage, and that he was so lightly regarded coming out of a Texas high school that he had to play junior college ball. Even his NBA break came only after years of toiling in basketball back waters, including the Chinese Basketball Association.

In the year before his suspension, Andersen broke up with his girlfriend, stopped speaking to his mother and had his home in New Orleans ravaged by Hurricane Katrina. He showed up for training camp in Oklahoma City, where the team had been relocated, 20 pounds overweight. He developed shin splints, and lacked his usual energy.

"It was like all this stuff was coming down on me, and everything was not a piece of cake," Andersen says. "It's like you work so hard to get to your dream, then you find out everything's not sugar and spice. Things go wrong. It was hard to deal with. We're all human."

Pretty soon he was hanging out at Oklahoma City night spots. It started with alcohol. Then it moved on to bigger things.

The important thing is that Andersen acknowledged his mistake and took the necessary steps to correct them. He says it won't happen again. He also says he can't wait to get back on the court with his Hornets teammates, many of whom kept in touch with him during his absence.

"A couple of the guys congratulated me on making it back," he says. "I'm just excited to be back with them, and with a team that is in third place, a very, very short way from the top. I can't wait to get out there with those guys and unbottle all this energy I've been storing up these last two years."

Here's to hoping Andersen lives up to the pledge and has a long and productive NBA career. Whether he helps the Hornets close that distance from the top or not, he'll be fun to watch. He'll also be a reminder that we're all human, we all make mistakes and that sometimes we all need a second chance.