Hooray For The Red, White, Black And Blue!

Whether Knight wanted to establish a starting lineup during the exhibition games is moot now, considering the myriad combinations he came up with. Mullin, the best shooter, had only three starts, but the lefthanded junior from St. John's can light up the scoreboard quickly—"instant offense," Jordan calls him—and it wouldn't be astonishing if he wound up as a Celtic-type sixth man. Knight loves the Celtics. "I'd be very comfortable with that role," Mullin says, as if he had a hand in the decision.

Not all of Knight's players are as much at home. Leon Wood, late of Cal State-Fullerton, who was expected to be the starting point guard, leads the team in assists (33) but his limited half-court offense has left him as ninth man in the rotation. Ewing, Georgetown's breathtaking 7-foot shot blocker, has started five games, but played only five minutes in Iowa City and is only ninth on the team in court time. Oklahoma's Tisdale is sometimes a Sooner in a swoon. The 6'9", 259-pound Tisdale should have relished the free-for-all atmosphere in Milwaukee, but he too often backed down from the physical stuff. Knight chewed out Tisdale constantly and played him only nine minutes.

Knight says he'll switch lineups in L.A., not only from game to game but also from situation to situation. He's aiming to get contributions from all 12 players: "One game A, B and C playing well, another game X, Y and Z."

That scenario meshed nicely with reality on July 9 before that huge crowd at Indy when Ewing bounced back from the Iowa City pine with 11 points and Mullin scored 18 in a 97-82 victory. And it worked again three nights later when ex-Tar Heel Jordan put on a 25-point, eight-rebound magic show of swooping and soaring for his home-state crowd in Greensboro, and Alford added 15 points and five assists in a 96-85 romp.

While Jordan and Mullin (as well as Alford, who, of course, ran it at Indiana) have found Knight's motion offense a lark, the system has mightily taxed Ewing and Tisdale. Over the short haul Ewing isn't so adaptable anyway, and Knight has never relied on his center at Indiana (excepting Kent Benson) to be offensive-minded. Tisdale's problem is that he's a root-down, post-up scoring machine who now in international ball is confronted with a wider lane. He is obliged not only to move farther away from the basket, but also, in the Knight system, to move, period. Tisdale confesses to having been "intimidated" by Knight at first and to having viewed the Olympic offense as being "for roadrunners. The hardest adjustment I've ever had to make is to go from standing around to the motion stuff," he says. "I have to think the game now, not just play it, but I'll be better off."

Moreover, Tisdale seems to have become Knight's pet whipping boy. Knight stopped practice in Greensboro and with a pen marked the exact spot on the floor—and the date—where and when Tisdale "hustled." Knight's most often heard non-profane wail from the bench is "Wayman! Get in the game!"

To compensate for his team's deficiencies, Knight has turned to the twin surprises. Fleming and Robertson are nearly mirror images of each other—in size (Fleming is 6'5", Robertson 6'4"), court presence, athleticism and versatility at point and shooting guard. Fleming is one of the niftiest garbagemen of recent times; he grabs every loose ball, tipped rebound or juggled pass and usually deposits all of the above in his own team's dumpster. His "T" in the boxscore should stand not so much for "totals" as "trash." Robertson is simply the Olympians' most consistent player; he's tied for the team lead in rebounds (34) and steals (13) and is second in assists (24) and minutes played (141) and fourth in scoring (11.7 points per game). "Who was that guy who dunked on me?" asked the Los Angeles Clippers' Bill Walton on national TV on July 8 during a break in the Iowa City game. "He came out of the roof." That guy was Robertson, whose exquisite defense, passing, leaping and aggressiveness from the high post has engendered comparisons with Jordan. "One on nobodies" is Knight's wonderfully descriptive tribute to Robertson's inspired thievery and resultant breakaways.

Meanwhile Knight is having his usual fine time harassing the media. He railed at a reporter who dared to question the legitimacy of the NBA competition: The pros are the best opponents available and have evinced a healthy patriotism. Healthy? Considering the past performance chart of these Mercedes-equipped mercenaries, their uncompensated time and effort probably rate the Congressional Medal of Honor. But most of them have showed up out of condition, unprepared and seemingly unable to put out for more than a half. Sort of like February in the NBA.

"I hope the Olympians don't get over-confident beating up on us," said Philadelphia 76er coach Billy Cunningham, who directed the pros in Greensboro. "It's not like we're in shape or that we've practiced." At one NBA "workout" called by Cunningham, not a single player showed up. Billy C. resorted to a game of H-O-R-S-E with a friend.

Even in Indianapolis, at the spectacular opening of a Hoosier Dome brimming with jingoistic fervor as the largest indoor basketball crowd in history gathered to watch the pros' strongest team—four members of the world champion Celtics, including a bearded Larry Bird, plus Isiah Thomas and Mark Aguirre—the hype and expectations far surpassed the drama. Somewhere amid Ronald Reagan's speaking via videotape, Up With People in person and the message board flashing TRULY A KNIGHT TO REMEMBER, Bird drew two quick fouls on Jordan and the NBA took a 16-10 lead. But soon the NBA MVP's off-season beer belly asserted itself—he and Thomas collaborated for nine turnovers (the Olympians had only 10 as a team)—and the pros' intensity fizzled like a damp firecracker.