Friday Night Lights

Under the Table and Dreaming


By nature, Minnesotans are a guilty bunch. Our Scandinavian heritage and Lutheran religion require us to go through life shouldering a bigger burden than most men and women. Typically, this humble background prevents us from doing anything to gain an edge over our opponents, in sports and in life. Native Minnesotans are often hesitant to drive more than 55 miles per hour, call mulligans on the back nine, or take all but the slightest lead off of first base. Don't mistake this for weakness, though -- our guilty consciences may dominate our psyches, but most of the time, they prevent us from making embarrassing errors that cause irreparable damage to our lives, our families, and our basketball franchises.

Overriding the angel on your shoulder in the Upper Midwest is an idea on par with going binge drinking after a marinara-heavy meal. Our Scarlet Letter society is lightning-quick (and usually correct) with accusations of impropriety, and the consequences are usually brutal. This is basic knowledge in our homogeneous little state. Every Minnesotan has the burden of guilt placed upon them prior to preschool. Like it or not, it is a guiding principle impossible to shake regardless of creed, geographic location, or situation.

Glen Taylor and Kevin McHale both had this burden. The former was the son of a southwestern Minnesota farmer who made a fortune in the printing business before purchasing the Timberwolves. The latter grew up in the Iron Range town of Hibbing and proceeded to greatness at the University of Minnesota and later, with the Boston Celtics. After Taylor purchased the team, he actualized his man-crush on McHale by hiring him as assistant GM in 1994 and promoting him to VP of basketball operations one year later.

Like most NBA owner/general manager duos, this combination made some prescient moves while improving this recent addition to the league. Drafting Kevin Garnett out of Farragut Christian Academy in 1995 was brilliant, as was hiring coach Flip Saunders. Trading for Stephon Marbury in 1996 worked in the short term, but in the long run, original pick Ray Allen would have been a far better fit. Regardless, the team began to evolve into a perennial playoff squad, albeit one that couldn't make it out of the first round. Garnett needed help inside. McHale and Taylor began searching for a complementary player.

As the story goes (thanks, Wikipedia):

Before the 1998-1999 season, Smith agreed in secret to sign three one-year contracts with the Timberwolves for less than his market value. In return, Smith received a promise that the Timberwolves would give him a multi-year, multi-million dollar contract before the 2001-2002 season.

In 2000, after word of the secret agreement got out, NBA commissioner David Stern voided Smith's final one-year contract with the Timberwolves, making Smith a free agent. Stern also took away three of the Timberwolves' next five first-round draft picks and fined the team $3.5 million.

Presumably, other NBA teams were executing under-the-table deals with players far before Taylor and McHale brought their checkbook to the underachieving former No. 1 pick. But what made Glen and Kevin think they could escape generations of guilt, inquiry, and Minnesota scorn in making this move? And if they were convinced that cheating in this manner was the best option, why wouldn't they try this dangerous, risky move with someone a little more talented than Joe Smith?

The story would end here if the move wasn't basketball Kryptonite for Taylor and McHale. People forget that prior to the Smith scandal, the Timberwolves made great strides with new leadership, progressing from a struggling expansion team to a club en route to greatness.

Following the scandal, though, the pipeline of talent for the team dried up. Stern stripped the Wolves of first-round picks in 2000, 2001, and 2002. Taylor and McHale did the honors themselves in 2003, when they celebrated the ability to draft top-flight players again by picking high school tweener and rapid Association washout Ndudi Ebi over players like Josh Howard, Jason Kapono, and Leandro Barbosa.

Shortly thereafter, the lack of incoming talent clashed with the team's strategy of signing aging former stars like Latrell Sprewell and Sam Cassell. This plan brought the team to the Western Conference Finals in 2004, where they were unable to defeat the dynastic Lakers. Following this season, the team began to implode. Cassell and Sprewell began to complain, Saunders was fired, Garnett was traded, McCants was drafted, McHale became head coach. The team's death spiral continues to twist into the ground of obscurity.

But four consecutive years of zero production from the first round is what truly spelled disaster for the franchise. And this can be directly attributed to Taylor and McHale's ignorance of Minnesota justice. Though you can't fire an owner, you are able to remove a coach and former GM from office. Kevin McHale deserved this fate long ago.