Off the Glass

Jordan's selfishness hurts Wizards' development

Jerry Stackhouse leads the team in scoring and assists but is still the second option in Washington. Doug Pensinger/Getty Images

By Paul Forrester, Special to SI.com

It's a shame the Washington Wizards aren't a rock band. Last season could have been their debut album, of sorts, featuring a new lineup led by lead singer Michael Jordan and a set of young, improving backup musicians. (Think Eddie and the Cruisers II, only you'd actually pay money watch this group play.)

As the gigs piled up and Michael Paré, er, Jordan, grew increasingly frustrated with the fact that his fellow musicians were not equal to his talents, Jordan could break away and start a solo career, leaving his bandmates minus a top-notch lead singer but experienced enough to navigate the industry on their own. Their albums would not receive as much hype but would go on to be critically acclaimed, paving the way for the group to craft an enduring career.

Too bad the team is headed for the same late-night TV landfill as Eddie and the Cruisers II once Jordan and his bitter tongue depart after this season.

As financially successful as Washington's two Jordan-filled seasons have been, as sentimental as another two years of Jordan highlights have made his fans, as much as his abilities at age 40 have convinced even this Jordan detractor that he is the greatest player ever to lace up a pair of sneakers, the past two NBA campaigns have been an utter failure for the development of the Washington Wizards as a team.

By the end of this season (and by that we mean the regular season because the only way this team is getting into the playoffs is by buying tickets), the team will lose its most accomplished player to retirement, its most capable player to free agency (would you stay on a team that gave you only seven shots when you are the team's LEADING SCORER?), and its young core to a lack of confidence.

Jordan's return came with two primary contract riders. First, MJ had a competitive itch to scratch, which he should be able to accomplish by just stepping on the floor. Second, he was going to take a young group of raw players and mold them into a cohesive basketball team. That would seem to entail, oh, I don't know, perhaps passing the ball.

Heading into Tuesday's contests, MJ was chucking up more than 18 shots a night, tops on the Wizards. That'd be all fine and good if Jerry Stackhouse wasn't the team's leading scorer and firing up one fewer shot a night. These numbers shouldn't even be close, especially is Jordan is there in large part to help those around him get better. Because how to you make others better? BY PASSING THE BALL. Not by hoisting up shot after shot on national TV only to give your team rebounding practice. While Jordan's 3.8 apg indicates some willingness to share, that total doesn't even lead the team (Stackhouse's 4.4 does), a startling fact given the offense runs through Jordan.

If MJ were truly interested in making his teammates better, wouldn't you expect something akin to Jamal Mashburn's 5.6 apg? It has been Mashburn's relative unselfishness that has kept the Hornets in the playoff race despite the loss of Baron Davis.

If everyone in North America knows that Jordan is the most potent offensive threat on the Wizards, wouldn't it follow that as defenses key on him, other players will be open? Wouldn't it also follow that the best way to help a teammate would be to pass him the ball for an open shot?

And let's not get into the notion that he doesn't pass because no one can hit a shot. Washington hits 44 percent of its shots, 11th in the league. Jordan may account for a lot of that but his personal 44 percent isn't single-handedly keeping the Wizards field-goal shooting together.

What about some more shots for Larry Hughes, hitting 46.3 percent of his attempts? Or perhaps Kwame Brown should be allowed to take advantage of his 45.7 percent mark from the floor? But this is not the point. Who cares if they hit their shots?

The focus should be on getting Jordan's teammates enough shots so that they can find a comfort level. However, no one can do that if his Airness is ripping someone because he's not playing defense, which Jordan and puppet/coach Doug Collins punish by withholding shot opportunities for others as Jordan pops off 10 more shots than anyone else on the team.

How exactly does that work? "You're not playing defense so I'm going to take all of the shots." If someone did that in a pickup game, you'd probably have a word or two for him after your eventual loss. In the NBA, you get on the phone to your agent.

And why not? Jordan isn't in Washington to better the team any more than I go to Thanksgiving to admire the napkins.

If Jordan didn't think Richard Hamilton was a future star, so be it. But why bring in a proven scorer only to let him play second fiddle to your retirement show? With the extra attention Jordan brings from a defense, Stackhouse should be the team's most prolific shooter; he isn't.

If Jordan thought Kwame Brown was the best player in the draft of 2001, how does giving the bulk of the minutes to Christian Laettner aid in his development, unless, of course, the goal is to make Brown an eight-point, six-rebound afterthought?

If Jordan wanted to give his young charges experience in the ins and outs of the NBA, then what is to be learned from watching Methuselah, er, Charles Oakley scratch out fewer than two points a game and less than three rebounds? Or by witnessing Bryon Russell miss more than 60 percent of his shots while receiving more than 20 minutes a game?

Jordan may have entered this return act with the best of intentions but as soon as he realized he couldn't both teach and get a little something for himself, he pushed out the kids to bring in his hired guns. There isn't anything wrong with this. If Jordan is the de facto GM and thinks he can make the playoffs with his guys, that's all well and good. But he and Collins should have long ago stopped the charade that this was somehow about Washington's future. It isn't. Jordan doesn't have the patience teaching takes, nor the willingness to sacrifice. That may make for dramatic theatre for No. 23, it also will make for a dramatic fall once MJ exits the stage.

OTG answers your questions

He may be well-liked, but winning baby-kissing contests hasn't seemed to help Madsen score more than three points a game or pull down as many as three rebounds a night, either. While it's nice to see Madsen get into a bit of a groove, I don't see it as anything more significant than Slava Medvedenko's occasional forays into the highlights. Think of Madsen as something akin to Jud Buechler during Phil Jackson's run with the Bulls. He's pretty limited compared to other NBA players but fills a valuable role off the bench playing off of the opportunities created by the team's superstars. If all goes right for the kid, he can parlay a solid playoff performance into some long green from the Knicks (Travis Knight, anyone?). If not, he'd be wise to take the cash from the Lakers, bask in the glow that is Shaquille O'Neal and Kobe Bryant and pick up another ring.

I'm having troubles filling center, with Michael Olowokandi on the IL. Who should I pick up? Tyson Chandler, Lorenzen Wright, Eddy Curry, or David Robinson?
--Chris, Stillwater, Minn.

It's not to jump too late on the bandwagon but you have to go with Curry if he's still available. With the recent death of his 11-month-old daughter, Wright is sketchy even when he returns to the Grizzlies. The Admiral is truly running on fumes toward the playoffs with his growing list of nagging ailments. That leaves Chandler and Curry. Given Curry's play of late, you have to go with him over Chandler. With the postseason long a memory in Chicago, Bill Cartwright has finally come to his senses and is playing the 6-foot-11 monster from Chicago. The results over the past few weeks have been what many observers expected after Curry had a great summer: 20-plus points, six-plus rebounds, 64 percent from the field. While Chandler has shown flashes of brilliance earlier this season, Curry is the reason the Bulls have won two of their last three and have a real nice future ahead of them.

Do the Spurs still need Jason Kidd with the tremendously improving performances of Tony Parker and Manu Ginobili? I think what San Antonio really needs now is a quality big man to replace David Robinson.
--Carmi Mandigma, Manila, Philippines

True enough. Still, there is only one Jason Kidd. As we have mentioned in the past in this column, Kidd is one of the few players in the league whose presence lifts a team's performance to another level. Granted, the Spurs are performing at a pretty high level already, but Kidd would make Ginobili and Stephen Jackson all the more lethal. It would give the Spurs a duo almost equal to the one in Los Angeles (and we don't mean Andre Miller and Michael Olowokandi) with a supporting cast that's probably better than the Lakers'. All bets are off if the Spurs get the ring as it might be tough to move a championship point guard but, assuming that doesn't happen, expect to see Kidd flanking the Alamo next season.

 

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