“I wanna thank everybody in my hood, my wife, my family, my kids. Everybody. I definitely wanna thank my Doctor, my Psychiatrist…”
These were the completely unrehearsed, dead honest, words uttered by an elated and slightly discombobulated Ron Artest immediately following the Lakers’ game seven victory over the Boston Celtics. Those simple words are what embody exactly what Ron Artest is all about: Loyalty, Family, and a little bit of crazy.
Born Ronald William Artest Jr, and raised in the projects of Queensbridge, NY, Ron has made himself a name in the NBA as a tenacious, rough, pesky, smart defender who never backed down from guarding the opponents best player. Through the glitz and glamour of the NBA, he never forgot his humble beginnings in the poor neighborhoods of Queensbridge, so much so, that in his last stop with the Houston Rockets, he wore the number 96, or “qb” for Queensbridge. Who knows, it might remind him of simpler times, of times where you call your own fouls, of times just feeling safe in his hood. One thing we know about Ron Artest is his loyalty is as dependable as Phil Jackson when winning the first game of a series.
Growing up in QB had its ups and downs, and while young Ron excelled at basketball, he didn’t have the guidance to harness his energy and anger. A curse that was going to haunt him his entire career. For many, the epitome of his unleashed issues will always be the infamous brawl in the Palace of Detroit. An on-court altercation spilled into the stands where, to the horror of Commissioner David Stern, Artest and fellow teammate Stephen Jackson, were slugging it out with the Pistons faithful. The “Malice at the Palace” earned Artest a 73-game suspension without pay. Though the biggest of all of his suspensions, this was not Rons only one. Numerous flagrant fouls had him sitting at home. He’s been suspended by his own coach or GM. Once for getting into a heated argument with the Heath coach Pat Riley, and once for infamously asking for time off to record and promote a rap album he was working on.
Once, with the Pacers, he attended practice in a bathrobe. He once applied for a job at Circuit City so he could have access to employee discounts. He once asked his manager to “Take care of those snake eggs in my backyard. Snakes creep me out!”. Turns out the big white snake eggs were mushrooms. Artest also admitted to drinking Cognac at half-time while with the Bulls who drafted him. While with the Rockets, he missed all team busses headed to Staples Center for game seven. When informed that the very last bus was about to leave and this was his last chance at getting to the game, Ron ran through the hotel lobby with nothing but his boxers on.
See, there’s enough crazy to around for everybody when it comes to Ron Artest. Some time ago, two writers begged for an interview with Ron Artest at his house. He never does interviews at home, and these two were about to find out why. Inside, they came across fifteen or so people, dogs and rolled up carpets. There were people sleeping on the stairs, couches, and mattresses strewn across the floor. Apparently, during his humble days in Queensbridge, together with his friends, Artest had made a pact: If anyone of us was to make it out of here, we’ll bring our friends with us!
Not sure in what order I’d put them, but the two first words that come to mind when describing Ron Artest are loyalty and crazy. See, wherever Ron goes, he brings his past with him. He can’t avoid it, he can’t get away from it. Ron has always been the malcontent, beleaguered player, who was a can of worms for any coach. Even when successful, he was traded or allowed to walk. I’m not sure why he can’t move out of the shadow of his past missteps, but in Artest’s defense, he’s been keeping it together and quite (on the legal end) since his brief stop in Sacramento.
It all changed in the summer of 09 when he signed with the Lakers. I remember the media that day: “Ron Artest will tear this team apart.” “Not even Phil Jackson can handle this nutcase.” “Good-bye Repeat.”
Well, Phil could handle him, and Artest did not tear the team apart, and they did repeat. Maybe playing with Odom whom he played with in his AAU days in NY gave him a sense of home. Maybe Phil did get to him. There are many possible explanations on why this worked with Ron. Basketball wise, I’d scream in my sleep if I had to coach against a team with Artest and Bryant switching on pick-and-rolls. To me, I think Ron just finally fit in. On top of his defense, Phil Jackson was able to make him take less three point shots to increase his efficiency. Artest shrunk his ego and shot less. His offense was limited to few set plays on the block, and Artest shrunk his ego and let it happen. Maybe that psychiatrist really did help Ron, isn’t that what shrinks do?
In the face of all the shrinking, Ron Artest was able to get off some good shots. In an NBATV post-game interview, after being asked about the open three he made in the 4th quarter of game seven, a very animated Artest replied: “Oh my gosh!! Kobe is passing the ball!!!??! To me?? Kobe is passing the ball. To me!! I better make this one.” And make it he did. He made it all. He fit in. He shrunk his personality. He played defense. He didn’t launch threes like he didn’t care. He was the ultimate side-kicks side-kick. He stayed out of trouble. He stayed on the court. He stayed sober at half-time. He was clothed to every practice. He paid full price for his CDs at Circuit City. He had shushed the critics. He had reached his potential. He is an NBA Champion.
Speaking of un-tapped potential (see: Micheal Olowokandi, Kwame Brown, etc), Artest was able to wrap his head around what a champion is. Sure he had some help: Kobe, Gasol, Phil Jackson and his Psychiatrist all were voices of reason throughout the year, but let’s give Ron some credit, for he was the one that had to be most willing to change. He re-did himself to be the whole, complete dish that he has become. A champions meal. With a side of crazy.
