Freshmen fill Tarver’s shoes, and then some

Freshmen fill Tarver’s shoes, and then some

Sometime around last spring’s graduation ceremonies, Jim Harrick
must’ve known he would have a fabulous basketball team this year.
That’s when he finally got rid of his weak link.

He knew he had four returning starters, all of whom still showed
wondrous potential and room for inevitable improvement. But there
was a problem. The Honorable (self-titled) Shon Tarver was a goner.
Eligibility kaput. Graduation and the CBA (Crap, er, Continental
Basketball Association) awaited our departing hero.

How in the world would Harrick ever fill Tarver’s shoes? I mean,
how do you replace a guy with the outside shot of Manute Bol? The
kind of guy who makes more stupid decisions than Barry Switzer, and
after each bad play flashes that "Where-the-hell-were-you" look at
some innocent teammate? A guy who underachieves more than Rob
Johnson and plays through pain about as well as I shoot pool (I
used to be good, I swear)? And, of course, the type of player who
lights up the post-game locker room with a toothy grin, regardless
of the outcome, as long as he was the game’s high scorer?

Shon Tarver, in my obviously no-holds-barred opinion, was all
that and more. Finding a replacement for Tarver was like having a
January birthday after getting Spiderman underoos for Christmas
­ whatever’s in the box, it’s bound to be better.

And, as we’ve found out in the early stages of 1995, it’s a lot
better. It’s 6-9 with long arms, soft hands, a decent shot and
nerves of steel. It’s freshman J.R. Henderson. Just call him the
Anti-Tarver. He’s everything Shon wasn’t, especially
attitude-wise.

"He’s done a great job," Ed O’Bannon said of J.R. after the
kid’s first career start, at Oregon State. "I think the best thing
I can say about him is he’s done really well in picking up the team
concept."

Funny, I never heard anybody say that about Tarver.

Now, I surely don’t claim that Henderson is the second coming.
He’s nowhere near perfect, and he knows it. He turns the ball over.
He makes dumb plays. He misses open shots. He gets down on himself
like all young guys do. You might’ve noticed him pull the ol’
fumbleaya a couple times last weekend. J.R. sure noticed.

"That was just one of those games," Henderson said after his
first bad performance as a Bruin, a six-point, four-turnover auto
wreck last Thursday against Washington. "Everyone has one once in
awhile. Nothing was going right. It was just a bad night."

But despite the occasional off-night or off-weekend, it looks as
if Henderson is in this for the long haul. Harrick has gone to the
most painful of ends in recent weeks to make two things clear: that
Henderson is his fifth starter (indefinitely, we assume), and that
everyone else who could possibly play that position (read: Cameron
Dollar and Toby Bailey) is really good, too. This is just a coach’s
decision, not the result of anything Toby or Cameron did wrong. If
Marquis Burns hadn’t decided to transfer, Harrick would probably be
touting his chances at court time as well, even though the coach
would then be officially full of it.

You can’t blame Harrick, really. I mean, you’re talking about a
fragile situation here. And from past experience, Harrick realizes
that doling out court time ­ and especially starting spots
­ can be a real pain in the rumpus. Anybody remember Darrick
Martin? I can assure you Harrick does.

And you can bet that Harrick was worried about ticking off
Bailey in the same way. No, don’t get me wrong ­ Bailey’s no
prima donna, sulk-if-I-don’t-touch-the-ball type like Martin. But
he’s still a wonderfully talented player who, just about every time
he hits the floor, does something encouraging, helpful, or, even
better, something really cool like that alley-oop dunk against
Washington State.

And one other point: don’t think for a second that Bailey isn’t
frustrated as the dickens sitting over there on that bench. I mean,
here’s a guy who chuckled when I asked him if he had ever started a
game on the bench before.

"I guess that’s my answer, huh?" I replied.

Bailey has always been THE MAN. And he’s always been told that
he’s THE MAN. Now he’s being told that he’s THE SIXTH MAN. And that
can be a killer on a kid.

"I was disappointed at first, but I think I’ve gotten over
that," Bailey said last week about not starting. "I’m not going to
say I’m happy that I’m not starting, but it’s out of my hands. I
can’t let it bother me."

A good learning experience? A time of growth?

"It’s more frustrating than humbling," he said.

Now please don’t get the wrong idea. I did not come here today
to spread rumors or to say Bailey is pulling a Chris Webber ‘tude.
Not at all. Toby was just being honest. Sure, it’s frustrating to
think that a starting spot is waiting for you at UCLA ­ and,
in this case, to know that you’re better than the guy who’s
vacating it ­ and then get here and, well, get beat out.

Even so ­ and I say this with absolute confidence ­
Toby Bailey, a stud freshman who thought he had a lock on a
starting job but didn’t, does not have an attitude problem. Now I
ask you ­ how damn encouraging is that?

"Hey, J.R.’s a good ballplayer," Bailey said without a hint of
appeasement. "And he’s producing. If he was going out and not
producing, then it would be a different story. But he’s doing a
great job. And we’re winning."

All in all, it gives me the feeling that, in the end, regardless
of who is starting, both J.R. and Toby will fail miserably in their
quest to live up to the standard set by Shon Tarver.

Thank God.

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