Egoless Trip

Otherwise mellow to the core, Grant fuels his intensity on the court by swigging three cups of Starbucks—being it's the Pacific Northwest and all—before every game. Now he has an added source of motivation. Late last summer he made the acquaintance of Blazers fanatic Dash Thomas, a 12-year-old suffering from brain cancer. Though Dash lived an hour from Portland, in the small town of Sublimity, Grant visited him dozens of times during the lockout to play video games or H-O-R-S-E. As Thomas's health deteriorated, Grant's visits became more frequent, and after Dash died on Feb. 2, Grant dedicated this season to his memory. "He was so mature for his age, you'd never guess he was 12," says Grant, who adorns his basketball shoes with Dash's name. "This is the first time I ever had to watch a friend die, but I really think Dash was a saint."

It's because of players like Grant and Stoudamire, a personable Rose City native, that the Blazers are rekindling a warm and fuzzy relationship with the community. The fans gorged themselves on the team's success in the early 1990s when it went to the Finals twice. Since then the Blazers have lost in the first round of the playoffs for six straight seasons—often with players whose only connection to the area was through local law enforcement. But the public is starting to jump back onto the bandwagon, and, bolstered by a 14% decrease in ticket prices at the Rose Garden from last season, Blazer-mania is again a Portland epidemic. "This team has a lot of personality off the court," says Chad Watson, owner of a Vancouver, Wash., rental company, who bought a $20 standing-room ticket for last Friday night's 91-77 loss to the Jazz. "On the court they have lots of threats and no weaknesses."

No glaring ones, perhaps, though an authentic team leader might stem their propensity for mental lapses. Two of Portland's losses have come at the hands of markedly inferior teams, the Warriors and the Charlotte Hornets. In the defeat by Golden State, the Blazers were leading by three in the waning seconds when Rider inexplicably doubled down, leaving his man, Chris Mills, wide open for a game-tying trey. In a critical juncture against Utah, Wallace was ejected for arguing a call that was wholly unobjectionable. "It's just brain lock," says Dunleavy.

Also, there have been a few minor insurgencies by the laboring class. Rider, who has otherwise suppressed his inner sociopath so far this season, did have a recent discussion with Dunleavy over playing time that the coach concedes "was less cordial than we would have liked." John Crotty, who backs up Stoudamire and Anthony at point guard, unsuccessfully requested a trade before last Thursday's deadline. Three years after he was drafted straight out of high school, fan favorite Jermaine O'Neal remains lost in the frontline logjam and will file for free agency this summer. "I want to stay, but I also want to play," he says with a sigh of resignation. "We're just so deep."

That canyonlike depth, particularly given this shrink-wrapped, four-games-a-week regular season, should help guard against fatigue and injury. If one of the Blazers encounters misfortune, a line forms to replace him. "With all the matchup problems we can create, we think it's going to be tough for anyone to beat us in a seven-game series," says Grant. "But the first thing we need to do is prove that we can get out of the first round."

Yes, it might be premature to reserve one of those yellow bikes for transport to the Blazers' victory parade. Even if, so far this season, everything in egalitarian Portland is coming up roses.