He wasn't just KG and Pierce and Ray's little brother -- he was yours, too.
When Rajon Rondo arrived in Boston, with that spindly body and those giant grizzly bear mitts, he was only 20 years old but already oozing intrigue. Even though he spent a chunk of his rookie season playing behind Sebastian Telfair -- Sebastian Telfair! -- the kid conjured up at least one play every week that made you exclaim, "Whoa.''
A no-look bounce pass. A deft steal in backcourt that was equally electric for his team and demoralizing for the unsuspecting opponent. That little hesitation that froze players in their tracks and enabled him to glide to the basket unhindered.
The athletic ability -- and the exceptional court vision -- was unmistakable. Tubby Smith, who coached Rondo at Kentucky, once told me his former point guard had the speed of an Olympic sprinter. What he didn't tell me (though others with knowledge of Rondo's time there did), was when the point guard jumped to the pros after his sophomore season, the coaching staff was strangely relieved.
It wasn't easy with Rondo -- it never has been.
Trying to chat with him during that rookie season was a herculean challenge because he often responded to dialogue with a blank expression that made you wonder if he was bored, or simply refusing to listen.
Turns out he heard everything; he just needed time to process it. One day I mentioned a sick pass he whirled back to Ryan Gomes in transition after he lured everyone -- including his teammates -- into believing he was going strong to the hole. The startled Gomes dropped the ball out of bounds. Rondo turned and ran upcourt with a look of absolute disgust.
When I queried him about his reaction, Rondo told me, "He should have had it, right?"
Yes, he should have.
Doc Rivers knew he had something special, but the little brother was used to doing things his own way, and Rivers, a former point guard, wasn't going to stand for that. He hauled him in, told him his teammates couldn't stand him. Rondo's apparent disinterest in his coach's comments left Doc seething, but a couple of days later, after a heap of introspection, Rondo came back around, and asked how he could be better.
It took some time, but you watched him grow up and refine both his skills and his image.
Before you knew it, Rondo blossomed into a starter, an All-Star, an NBA champion.