Smoke Break

The “Dennis Rodman Meltdown” has peppered commercials on NBC for the past few days. Seems Rodman lays his hands on country megastar (the word “megastar” is used in its loosest sense) Clink Black on the next episode of “The Apprentice.” I’m guessing Rodman has never heard Black’s music, otherwise he would have been inclined to use brass knuckles.

Rodman’s outburst ear-marks another public meltdown that has become “The Worm’s” M.O. since his professional basketball career began.

The John Stockton head-butting, cameraman groin-kicking Rodman made headlines for the wrong reasons most of the time. His antics since he retired are nothing short of bizarre and tacky on the level of Aeropostale. His behavior: bizarre. The hair color: needy. The piercings: strange. The only thing consistent was the way he played basketball: Beautifully and unselfishly on the cusp of perfection.

Turn on an NBA game in the late 90’s and Rodman was the first person you noticed. While the hair might have drawn you in, the rebounding kept me interested. Rodman prided himself on tipping, tapping, kicking and grabbing to get himself a rebound. He made no bones about the fact that he didn’t care about scoring (though in later years with the Bulls his three-point attempts were the equivalent of giving your little cousin a Sega controller without plugging it into the console).

Grabbing a defensive rebound, Rodman would tip the ball to himself until he controlled it with both hands while both of his feet were in the air. As his hands were coming down, Rodman would plant one foot and use the momentum he created to outlet the ball down the court to a teammate for an easy basket. At a small 6’6 Rodman would figure to be out-rebounded by most of the centers that had a few inches on him, but he had pristine positioning. If a center grabbed a rebound, they typically had to go over the back on Rodman, picking up a foul in the process.

While others prided themselves on lining up just outside the three-point line and the rest found few shots they despised, Rodman made his teams better by not shooting. He didn’t have to. Never has one player created so much by staying out of offensive sets.

Then there was his defense. Rodman not only defended players. He rattled them. Alonzo Mourning grew more concerned with planting a foot in Rodman than beating the Bulls. Shaquille O’Neal couldn’t handle Rodman’s antics. He had a way of getting under everyone’s skin yet he still had a way of looking composed for a man with gold hair and tattoos covering every inch of his body.

Many former players will tell tales of Rodman arriving late, or hung-over and often times both, but the stories are always coupled with the fact that Rodman always knew what he was doing on the court. Phil Jackson called him one of the smartest players he had ever coached. Is it any surprise that Rodman was a winner everywhere he went?

Granted, Isaiah Thomas, David Robinson, Vinnie Del Negro (wanted to see if you were awake) and Michael Jordan had a lot to do with that, but Rodman was vital to the success each team had. He gave those teams countless second chances.

Call him a goof, and I won’t disagree. Chide him as a joker and you have no debate here. But call him a bad basketball player and his NBA Championships will surely change your opinion.