The great ones—Jordan, Ripken and the like—are renowned for their hyper-competitiveness, whether the game is poker, Ping-Pong or Parcheesi. But Indiana Fever rookie forward Tamika Catchings may be the first athlete to have made a do-or-die contest out of a baby shower.
Catchings was at a celebration two years ago for her sister-in-law in Chicago. The family thought it would be fun to hold a game of toddler trivia, giving away miniature blue and pink clothespins for correct answers. Whoever collected the most pins got a gift basket. Catchings jumped out to an early lead, only to be surpassed at the last moment by her sister, Tauja. "I got sooo mad," says Tamika with a grin. "I went and sat in the corner. I just couldn't handle losing." Her mother, Wanda, was flabbergasted: "I couldn't believe my adult daughter getting so furious—and at a baby shower! But that's how she's always been."
That competitive drive has made Catchings one of the most dominant first-year players in the short history of the WNBA. At week's end she was second in the league in scoring at 17.9 points per game and in the top 10 in seven other categories (rebounds, assists, blocks, steals, free throws made, free throw percentage and three-pointers made). A smooth slasher, the 6'1" Catchings is the rare post player who can handle the ball like a guard—her snap-through crossover is Iversonesque—and step out beyond the arc. "When you talk about do-it-all players, you should just put 'equals Tamika Catchings,' " says New York Liberty guard Teresa Weatherspoon, who rates Catchings as one of the top five players in the league. "She can shoot it, rebound it and push it. Man, she is everywhere?
Within the first three minutes of a game against New York last week, Catchings blocked a shot, pulled down a rebound, stole a pass, set up the offense on the perimeter and guarded the Liberty's best inside player. "She's relentless," says Fever coach Nell Fortner. " Olympia [Scott-Richardson, the Indiana center] will say things like, 'I would have had a double double if Catch hadn't stolen that rebound.' But that's how Tamika is. She'll sacrifice her body for every loose ball."
The drawback to Catchings's omnipresence is that at times her teammates forget that they too must be present. When opponents double-team Catchings or deny her the ball through other defensive ploys, the Fever offense often stalls. The result was a 7-7 record at week's end. Catchings spins the situation as a positive, at least in the long run. "This way we'll have seen all types of defenses early in the season," she says. "So hopefully we'll be able to adjust in time for a championship run."
Catchings has been waiting awhile for this chance. Seventeen games into her senior season at Tennessee, where she was a four-time All-America and the player of the year as a junior, Catchings tore her right ACL. Drafted third by Indiana a few months later, she was unable to play in 2001, dying inside as she watched the Fever sputter to a 10-22 record. All the while she rehabbed impatiently, pestering doctors with the question, "How long? How long?" Last February, with Indiana's blessing, she returned to the court with the Chicago Blaze of the startup National Women's Basketball League. Any questions about a gimpy wheel were erased in the first game, in which she led the Blaze with 27 points, 12 rebounds, five assists, six steals and three blocked shots.
Approachable and easygoing, Catchings has become the face of the Fever on and off the court. Born with a substantial hearing loss in both ears, she often speaks to groups of hearing-impaired children, as she did before a game against Portland on June 20. "As a kid I always pictured pro athletes as perfect," says Catchings, who learned to read lips and interpret facial expressions as a youngster. "Talking to these kids lets them know they're not alone."
With so much going for her, the only thing Catchings—whose teams won 80 straight games from her senior year of high school to her sophomore season at Tennessee—has to do is get her club to win consistently. Asked to name the last time she lost two in a row before this season, she tilts her head and thinks. "A long, long time," she says. "And I'm sure I was upset about it."
More upset than at the baby shower? "I don't know. But come to think of it"—her smile melts—"I'm still mad about that."