Dealing With Rejection

When Charlotte Bobcats forward Emeka Okafor leaps to block a layup, he often turns sideways, like a waiter navigating a crowded room, so that he can extend his right arm as far as possible. When he leaps to block a dunk, however, the 6'10", 252-pound Okafor tries to go straight up, the better to neutralize his opponent's momentum. Considering that a blocked dunk is one of the rarest feats in basketball--at week's end there had been only 113 in 603 NBA games this season--this is easier in theory than in practice. � On this January night in Charlotte, Okafor has no choice but to jump at an angle to challenge a dunk. During the third quarter Mikki Moore, the New Jersey Nets' lanky 7-footer, receives a scoop pass on the right baseline. From the other side of the rim Okafor can take only one long stride before lifting off. As the players meet above the rim, Okafor's right palm hits the leather with a thud. Such moments are violent and potentially dangerous: Meet the dunker too close to the basket, and the shot blocker risks having his hand slammed back into the iron, an easy way to break a finger or a wrist. With a powerful follow-through Okafor stuffs Moore and sends the ball spinning to the floor. The listless crowd of 13,077 fans is momentarily roused, though it's unlikely that many appreciate what they have just seen. It is only Okafor's 12th blocked dunk of the year, which leads the league (chart, page 54).

It takes a certain type of player to challenge at the rim, and Okafor fits the mold. He's top-heavy, all torso, with thick shoulders, a 7'4" wingspan and wide hands. Growing up in Houston, Okafor's favorite sport was football; he only began playing hoops because his father enrolled him at the local Y. Still, as he remembers, "blocking shots was basically my first basketball skill." At Bellaire High he averaged six blocks as a senior. In three years at UConn he blocked 4.3 per game. Now a third-year pro, Okafor was averaging 2.95 through Sunday, behind only Jermaine O'Neal of the Indiana Pacers (3.06). In a Jan. 12 game at New York, Okafor blocked a season-high 10 shots by the Knicks. Asked which of them he liked the best, Okafor smiles. "They were all good," he says. "I love all my children."

Whereas the NBA was once home to a corps of towering, lumbering giants, today's shot blockers are a disparate group consisting of undersized centers, lanky forwards and the occasional old-school pivot, and they are blocking fewer shots than ever. The league-wide average has declined in four of the last five years to 385.3 per team last season, the lowest since 1975--76. At week's end teams were on pace to average 384.5. "You need the mentality to do it," says 36-year-old Alonzo Mourning of the Miami Heat, the league leader in blocks per 48 minutes (5.84). "I don't see a lot of guys having it today."

Also to blame: 7-footers who play 20 feet from the basket; the increasing popularity of the three-pointer; teams that rely on running more than posting up; the defensive three-seconds rule; and coaches unwilling to start a purely defensive center. "Teams are caught up in points per possession," says Nets coach Lawrence Frank. "People will tell you the best shot is a layup, the second is a corner three, the third is another three not in the corner. There's such an emphasis on having offensive players on the floor that if a shot blocker isn't multidimensional, then it's hard to put him out there. Plus, shot blocking is a very hard skill to find."

But it can be a useful one to have. Take 7'2" Dikembe Mutombo, who ranks second alltime in blocks to Hakeem Olajuwon and has started for the Houston Rockets since Yao Ming broke his right tibia on Dec. 23. Despite being a creaky-kneed 40 years old, Mutombo has had a profound effect on Houston's defense (chart, page 54). Through Sunday opponents had averaged 96.5 points per 100 possessions and shot 39.6% when Mutombo was in the game; when he wasn't, they'd averaged 102.3 points and shot 43.2%. The Rockets were 16--11 when their All-Star center went down; with Mutombo (and his enormous, wagging E.T. finger) in the lineup they have gone 9--5.

So why doesn't every team take a 7-footer and develop him into a designated swatter? Talk to the master practitioners and they'll tell you that the craft of shot blocking can be studied and refined but, as it turns out, rarely taught.

The NBA didn't keep statistics on blocked shots until 1973--74, but if it had, Boston Celtics great Bill Russell, who retired in 1969, would have put up astounding numbers. The 6'10" Russell played as if he'd sworn an oath to protect the basket, using quick leaping and superior timing and anticipation to contest every shot. "I remember there were times when Russell wouldn't come past the top of the key on offense," says Hall of Fame center Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, whom Mutombo recently relegated to third on the career blocks list. "He'd let the Celtics run the fast break and stay back because that's where he thought he belonged."

Before the 1980s, centers were generally expected to do a little of everything. But then a couple of giants carved out careers by becoming shot blocking specialists: 7'4" Mark Eaton of the Utah Jazz and Manute Bol, the 7'7" Sudanese tribesman turned NBA scarecrow. Because of their height, neither man had to jump, so pump fakes were useless. While with the Golden State Warriors, Bol twice blocked eight shots in a quarter. Eaton (of whom the late Los Angeles Times columnist Jim Murray memorably wrote, "The Empire State Building has grown arms") still holds the NBA record with 14 in a game. In 1984--85 he rejected an amazing 456 shots--or 71.5 more than the projected team average this year--for 5.56 per game, both single-season records.

Eaton and Bol gave way to a golden age of multitalented centers stretching into the early '90s, including Olajuwon, Patrick Ewing, David Robinson and, later, Mutombo, Shaquille O'Neal and Mourning. A decade later Mourning remains, tellingly, one of the league's most-feared big men. On a recent Friday night in Oakland he rejected two inside shots by the Warriors in the first half, then bode his time to flick away a Mike Dunleavy Jr. floater. For the game Mourning finished with five blocks and altered, by one unofficial count, nine more--a total of 28 potential points denied. "It's timing and pursuit," he said afterward, sitting at his locker. "Even when I could probably get there a little earlier and prevent them from taking a shot, I'll wait for a guy and make him think he has an opportunity to get a shot off. Then I'll go get it."

The bait-and-block is one of many tricks of the trade. A primer might read: Watch your man's jersey rather than his eyes to determine his intent ("The eyes lie," warns Eaton); wait until after the ball is released to jump; and swat with the hand opposite the shooter's for better extension. Studying players' idiosyncrasies also helps: Lay off the near-unblockable floaters favored by guards (like Tony Parker); know your pump fakers ( Kobe Bryant and Tracy McGrady are especially good); and beware of those who like to jump into shot blockers. On this last count Washington Wizards guard Gilbert Arenas is probably the most notorious, so much so that Okafor says he won't even try to block Arenas's shot, instead backing up to avoid the foul. ("Wait, no," adds a suddenly worried Okafor. "Don't use Gilbert's name, because he'll read [and learn], This is what Mek does against me.")