Shattered And Shaken

"I see me being made a villain all over the country. I see my future going up in an explosion," Washington said last week. "But on the newsreels I never see Kunnert hitting me first, which he did. Even when I got in the fight, I didn't want to fight. I thought I'd get beat up. Rudy was just a blur. Why did he have to run at me? I've called his hospital five times, but I know he doesn't want to see me; he probably wants to shoot me. I couldn't sleep for the longest time, but now it's out of my hands.

"This was my best year," he went on, "and then I would have been a free agent. Now most teams probably won't have anything to do with me. I may never play again. It's up to the dictator, O'Brien. I feel like I was walking out to my car and somebody tried to mug me so I beat him up. Then the police came and arrested me. So I have to go to prison."

Of the incident, Kupchak says, "We've all talked about it on the Bullets and we all agree. If we put ourselves in Kermit's position, we would have reacted the same way. Maybe what happened between him and Kunnert beforehand was all wrong, but when you turn and see a guy roaring down on you, you have to fight."

The Bullets' Wes Unseld says, "As a peacemaker Rudy had to know two things. You must either break up a fight or you take the fight upon yourself. But you have to be prepared for anything. I've seen 100 fights in this league and 99% end with no more than a bloody nose. This was a tragic and regrettable incident, but it wasn't a fight. The NBA has created a monster out of fighting. Now let them live with it."

In an environment chock full of questionable characters and teams more deserving of notoriety, it is ironic that a genuinely admirable crew such as the Lakers has become the symbol of brutality in pro sports. The Los Angeles coach, Jerry West, had a fight-free playing career distinguished for its class and sportsmanship and is one of the few NBA coaches who insists on keeping only what are referred to as "good citizens" around him on his squad.

"Kareem and Kermit are two of the best people I know. Collectively this is the nicest, kindest team I've ever been on," says West, who has been hurt by letters criticizing him for "favoring animalistic, killer tactics."

Indeed, camaraderie, chemistry, cohesion—saccharine as these clich�s seem—could aptly be applied to last year's Laker team, which, aside from Abdul-Jabbar, consisted mostly of retreads, castoffs and free agents who managed to compile the best regular-season record in basketball before being eliminated by Portland in the playoffs.

This season the Lakers have much the same team personality: Jamaal Wilkes and Dave Robisch—quiet, thoughtful types. Lou Hudson—Sweet Lou, Mr. Nice Guy. Ernie DiGregorio—a veritable Dondi from the comics. Only Adrian Dantley, a second-year man out of Notre Dame, could possibly be construed as a rough, tough mean guy. In fact, earlier this season, when he was playing for the Indiana Pacers, Dantley stormed the Milwaukee dressing room, blasting aside police guards, to get at the Bucks' Dave Meyers, for which he received a three-day suspension.

After West had obtained Dantley, along with Robisch, in a trade for rookie Center James Edwards and Earl Tatum three weeks ago, the Laker coach labeled the season "the most bizarre year this team has had in its 18 years in Los Angeles."

With the exception of Washington's torn tendon in his right knee, the Lakers were almost injury-free in 1976-77, but they have already gone through nine starting lineups this season as they have dropped to the bottom of the Pacific Division. In addition to Abdul-Jabbar's hand injury (the team won only eight of the 20 games he missed), three other Lakers suffered broken bones, and Wilkes missed two games with a viral infection and a low blood count. Indeed, for a game in New Orleans, Wilkes had to leave his sick bed and fly across the country so the Lakers could have the required eight bodies in uniform.