Callahan Praises Wallace

["Way Of The Ray" <wayray@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>]

Wallace hopes Baker play pays off 

by Gerry Callahan 
Bostn Herald
Wednesday, July 24, 2002

The criticism is coming from all directions now, but with it comes a hint
of respect for Chris Wallace, maybe even awe. Did he just do what I think
he did? The Celtics general manager did not just pull the trigger on the
biggest deal of his tenure in Boston when he brought Vin Baker in from
Seattle. He threw his job, the best job he has ever had and probably ever
will have, up on the craps table and said let it ride. 
Wallace could have ignored the phone messages from Seattle and enjoyed a
peaceful, pleasant summer in New England. They would have been fawning over
him from Oak Bluffs to Ogunquit, reliving those wonderful moments from the
Celtics' recent playoff run and looking ahead to another year of blissful,
post-Pitino mediocrity. Oh, it would have been easy to be Chris Wallace,
riding the Celts' stunning 49-win season the way Don McLean rode ``American
Pie.'' Who would blame him? He's got a family to feed, as well as an ego. 
Instead, Wallace returned the call from the Sonics and, like Art Schlicter
on the prison pay phone, made the biggest, craziest, most dangerous bet of
his life. He traded Kenny Anderson, Vitaly Potapenko and Joseph Forte for
Vinny Baker and Shammond Williams. Baker is the key here. He is the wild
card. He is Billy Bob Thornton and Wallace just tattooed his name on his
private parts. 
``This is a business of risk-taking,'' Wallace said. ``Hey, Jerry West took
a chance when he drafted Kobe Bryant out of high school. We're not trying
to take unnecessary risk or some wild gamble, but we can't sit here and
wait for the sun and the stars and the moon to be in line before we make a
move.'' 
In Boston, the reaction to the deal was swift and decisive, and most
Celtics fans had one question for Wallace when it became official: Did the
Sonics release your family unharmed when you agreed to their demands? To
most Boston fans and media, cryonics makes more sense than taking on the
remaining $56 million and four years of Baker's ridiculous contract. 
There is a scene in the movie ``Full Metal Jacket'' where the drill
sergeant asks Private Joker, played by Matthew Modine, if he believes in
the Virgin Mary. Private Joker says no and earns a hard slap across the
face. The angry drill sergeant then promotes the private to squad leader.
``Private Joker is silly and he's ignorant,'' says the sergeant, ``but he's
got guts and guts is enough.'' 
Guts may not be enough in the NBA, but in this case, it is rare and it is
admirable. With Paul Pierce and Antoine Walker under contract, with the
fandom comfortably content from last spring's success, Wallace and the
Celtics were facing at least a few seasons of making the playoffs and
making money. Now it all changes. Wallace made a deal that will do one of
two things - make them better or make them worse; make him a genius or cost
him his job - and for that reason, it is a gamble worth taking. If nothing
else, it injects the region with nervous anticipation and makes this
basketball team very unpredictable. You think Larry Brown is happy about
this deal? Byron Scott? Whoever the hell is coaching the Knicks? 
``Our choice was simple: Do this or do nothing,'' Wallace said. ``We were
not guaranteed anything just because we almost made the Finals. Rodney
(Rogers) was gone. We had to either try to get better or give up.'' 
When this offseason began, the Celtics' most pressing needs were obvious:
They needed a big man, a guy who could post up, and the coveted Third
All-Star. The idea of actually filling such needs is generally dismissed as
a pipe dream. A good big man? A low-post player? As long as you're making
the playoffs, you don't find those in the draft. 
``You don't find proven inside scorers in the woods of Manitoba,'' Wallace
said. ``There are no Sidd Finches in this game.'' 
The Celtics players and coaches wanted to keep Rogers (who, by the way, was
neither an All-Star nor a post-up player), but that just wasn't going to
happen and they knew it. Owner's decision. They moved on. When the Baker
idea came up, coach Jim O'Brien talked to his captains about it and they
gave it the thumbs-up. With Baker, there is the chance - however slim -
that this team could get better fast and no player in his prime likes to
wait. Here's all you're really giving up in the deal: part of Anderson's
$9.2 million salary under the cap two years down the road. 
Baker is 30 years old. He is a four-time All-Star. He's 6-foot-11. He is,
supposedly, six pounds over his playing weight of 255. He is coming home to
New England where, if he fails, he won't be failing in front of a bunch of
Starbucks-sipping strangers. 
Last year, when the Sonics came to the FleetCenter, Baker reportedly had
300 friends and family members in attendance. Cousin Vinny had 23 points,
eight boards and three blocks. Wallace has set the bar artificially low for
his new big man. 
``He doesn't have to be an All-Star. If he gives us what he gave Seattle,
plus maybe another 5 percent, we'll be happy,'' he said. 
That he didn't play hard every night, that a seven-year, $86 million
contract was not motivation enough, is absolutely nauseating. But such is
life in the NBA. 
No one knows exactly what happened to Baker in Seattle - he once confessed
to being depressed - but yesterday someone in the Celtics organization
threw out the Max Contract theory. Some guys, he said, have goals, and
their approach changes once those goals are attained. Baker made All-Star
teams. He made the Olympic team. Then he got the hallowed Max Contract, and
the drive and determination that got him to the top of his game just wasn't
there anymore. 
Most of us roll our eyes at such a pathetic explanation. Chris Wallace
rolls the dice. He's going to win the East or lose everything. He's betting
it all on Vinny Baker. He might be silly and ignorant, but Wallace has got
guts. Guts aren't enough, but if you're a Celtics fan, they just made life
a lot more interesting.