MINNEAPOLIS -- Should they or shouldn't they? The Minnesota Timberwolves aren't the only team facing that
question as Indiana's supremely talented, and supremely troubled,
Ron Artest sits on the trading block. The Pacers come to town Friday night, and there is no doubt
trade speculation will heat up once again in the Twin Cities. The Timberwolves are in desperate need of a player with Artest's
skills. He is one of the three best defensive players in the league
and can just as easily win games on the offensive end of the floor. But he's on the trading block for a reason. With a linebacker's physique and a receiver's athleticism,
Artest is a matchup nightmare for his opponents. The problem, however, is that his emotional instability causes
just as many sleepless nights for Pacers executives, coaches and
teammates. In the past few years alone, Artest has been suspended by the
NBA or benched by his team for numerous infractions, including
smashing a high definition television camera at Madison Square
Garden and brawling with Detroit Pistons fans at The Palace. This
year, he requested a trade, saying he doesn't fit in with the
Pacers. That latest transgression led chief executive Donnie Walsh and
president Larry Bird to deactivate him, and Artest hasn't played or
practiced with the team since Dec. 6. Having covered Artest for almost two seasons while with The AP
in Indianapolis, I know firsthand the complexities of the case. When he behaves, Artest is without question one of the 10 best
players in the league. His game has a balance on offense and
defense that is rare in the Age of Specialization. That's why he would fit in so well with the Wolves. Aside from Kevin Garnett, of course, they have too many
one-dimensional players. Troy Hudson is the scoring point guard.
Anthony Carter is the passing point guard. Eddie Griffin is a
shot-blocker. Wally Szczerbiak is a shooter. Trenton Hassell is a
defensive stopper. Artest is a bit of everything. He can shoot from the perimeter,
manhandle a smaller defender in the post, make the extra pass and
lock down an opponent's top scorer, whether that player is a point
guard or a power forward. I've seen him do it all. Yet every time he seems to have it together, when his game is
rolling and his team is winning, Artest decides to foul it up. He'll request a trade, say he wants a month off because he's
tired from promoting a CD on his record label or completely ignore
his coaches and do his own thing on the court. Again, I've seen him do it all. The most maddening aspect of the equation is how wonderful he is
to deal with on a day-to-day basis. In person, Artest is polite, fun-loving and approachable. He is
easy to talk to and willing to talk. He'll answer any question
posed to him, all the while professing an unconditional love for
his family and friends. He's not the surly superstar who thinks he is better than
everyone else. The New Yorker often leaves reporters scratching their heads
after talking in circles for 20 minutes, but hey, at least he's
talking. Earlier this month, the Timberwolves were considered one of the
prime candidates to land Artest and his $6 million salary, which is
a steal for a player with his skills. But talk around here has cooled as Walsh, Indiana's super-savvy
basketball boss, continues to talk to any number of teams about the
former defensive player of the year. So what should the Wolves do? History shows that the franchise has little luck dealing with
malcontents. Isaiah Rider and Christian Laettner were both colossal flops as
high first-round draft choices. Stephon Marbury orchestrated an ugly divorce from the team. Sam Cassell and Latrell Sprewell helped lead the Timberwolves to
the Western Conference finals two years ago, but also were largely
responsible for a miserable season last year that included another
spot in the draft lottery. But the need outweighs the risk. As the Feb. 23 trade deadline gets closer and closer, Walsh may
be forced to take less than he wants. If the Wolves can hold on to
Szczerbiak, who has regained his All-Star form, and acquire Artest,
look out. Without another impact player to provide a consistent threat on
both ends of the floor on a nightly basis, the Timberwolves are
going to have difficulty even making the playoffs. They are a team desperately in need of an adrenaline shot. And, like that memorable scene in "Pulp Fiction" where John
Travolta gives one to an overdosed Uma Thurman, that shot has
risks. Miss the mark, and it's a disaster. But hit it, like Travolta did, and you have new life in a
heartbeat. ^------= Jon Krawczynski can be reached at jkrawczynski(at)ap.org
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