Frank Hughes on Vin Baker

["Berry, Mark S" <berrym@xxxxxxxxxxxx>]

This isn't what I'd call encouraging. Not that I'm counting on anything at
all from Baker this year, anyway. The Celtics shouldn't, either. They should
treat anything he gives them from game to game as an unexpected bonus. The
minute you start to rely on a guy like Baker is the minute he lets you down.

Mark


I hope this is the time Vin Baker
<http://sports.espn.go.com/nba/players/profile?statsId=1279>  is not lying
to himself. 
I hope for the Boston Celtics
<http://sports.espn.go.com/nba/clubhouse?team=bos> ' sake, I hope for his
family's sake, but I mostly hope for his sake that this is the time that Vin
Baker is being honest with his demons. 
But, for right now, as cold-hearted as it may sound, he needs to prove that
he is not working his way down his list of justifications for a career that
has gone from four-time All-Star to an afterthought. 
Sound cold? Yes. But this is the time for Baker to get tough love, not
sympathy and coddling. A less-than-casual observer may feel like the father
in "Less Than Zero," who desperately wants his son, Julian, played by Robert
Downey Jr., to get clean from his coke habit. Toward the end of the movie,
when Julian comes home and once again asks for forgiveness, his father gives
in and takes him back. That night, Julian dies from yet another uncontrolled
binge. 
And so when Baker says to the Boston Globe that he has come to the
realization that he is an alcoholic, and that that realization is like a new
lease on life, I'm, well, skeptical. Hopeful, but skeptical. 
Because right now, Baker is operating in the vacuum of his plush manse in
New England, following a stint in an upscale rehabilition facility in New
Canaan, Conn. -- the same facility, ironically, where disgraced former New
York Times reporter Jayson Blair rehabbed. 
But that is altogether different from the bright-lights, big-city world of
the NBA, where groupies are plentiful, adulation is endless and partying
into the wee hours is prevalent. 
Let's face it, the NBA is not quite the atmosphere in which one who is not
A.C. Green wants to practice abstinence of any kind, and Baker does not
exactly have a reputation for being strong-willed or disciplined. 
I would be more convinced of Baker's earnestness if he gave up the game for
a year and concentrated on his disease. Or, gave it up altogether, saying
that his health is more important than his reputation. 
What happens the first time Baker sees his teammates going out and doesn't
want to miss out on the fun? 
What happens the first time he has a good game and wants to celebrate? 
Or, worse, a miserable game and wants to drown his sorrows? 
One of Baker's penchants is that he imbibes in secrecy, playing the straight
man in public, getting plastered in private. Only, he didn't hide his vices
well enough, because everybody knew. Everybody, that is, except him. 
I don't know enough about alcoholism to know whether that self-denial is
Baker's fault, but I know enough about selfisheness to know that at the very
least, it is the fault of those around him. 
Place plenty of blame on Baker's friends, who lived with and partied with
him, though, to be fair, they also were in his employ and they were not
about to kill the golden goose. 
Ultimately, it is up to Baker to admit to his shortcomings. But even at the
end, he did not do it. It was the Celtics who forced him from the game and
into rehab, where he now says he is cured. 
This is what concerns me: Baker also said he never has been depressed or
received treatment for depression. 
Yet, when I asked Baker about the rumors of his alcoholism in April of 2000,
he said that he was suffering from depression, and that the players'
association was helping him deal with that depression. 
"I've said this over and over again, and I don't want to continue to speak
about it," Baker said at the time. "The alcohol thing is way out the window.
I'm in a situation where I am fighting a lot of depression right now and
coping with a lot of different things as far as on the court is concerned. I
keep telling you guys about this alcohol thing, it's not true." 
At that time, Baker said he made contact with Cliff Robinson and Dirk
Minnifield, counselors with the NBPA, because of the struggles he has
endured this season. 
"I contacted them," Baker said. "I called them and told them I was going
through some depression. It was a situation where I just needed somebody to
talk to. I have been going through a lot of different things. I talk to them
at least once a week about the way I am playing, me not starting, things
like that. 
"They are concerned about my well-being and how I am doing with everything.
I have expressed how I have been depressed about a lot of things. That's it.
The depression in me, worrying about a lot of things, I've been depressed
this year. I have been a person that has not been able to cope with a lot of
things and that is basically where we are at. But it does not have anything
to do with alcohol at all. 
"It is a real disservice to me to keep bringing up things that are not true.
Because it puts it in people's minds. I tried not to say anything about my
frustrations, I tried not to have anybody worry about my well-being. I try
to fight through it. To print something about alcoholism is way out of line.
It is really false. That was addressed weeks ago. I've talked to people
about my state of mind. I'm just trying to hold on and fight through a lot
of different things." 
Those words may be part of a lie that Baker was living, and looking back on
them now may be useless. But the scary thing about that interview was that I
asked Baker those questions without him having knowledge of them beforehand.
So, clearly, he had thought out an explanation for his alcohol problems well
before it was made public, and to go to that degree to perpetrate a cover-up
makes me wonder. 
These are the stories and explanations we've heard from Baker for years, so
it will take more than a brief mea culpa for me and many others to be
convinced of the sincerity in his recent statements. 
Nobody appreciates and yearns for a good comeback story like a sports fan. 
Give us one, Vin. Give us one for your own good.