Those crazy kids … always getting wild ideas stuck in their
heads.
That’s bound to happen.
But Trevor Ariza’s bewildering decision to turn pro
““ an ill-advised conclusion that could ultimately cost him
his basketball career and will most definitely change his life in
some way or other ““ was made with incredibly poor
reasoning.
If you believe Ariza, he shouldn’t listen to coach Ben
Howland, his mom doesn’t know best after all, and you should
ignore just about anyone who has any semblance of professional
basketball knowledge.
If you believe Ariza, he is capable of playing shooting guard or
small forward (ignore his 23.7 percent three-point field goal
percentage), he can bulk up (forget his skinny frame), and he is a
smart basketball player (so what if he averaged a team-high 3.2
turnovers a game last year).
If you believe Ariza, he is ready for the NBA.
But I don’t believe Ariza. I believe what his advisers
told him ““ to stay in school, improve his game and to
evaluate his prospects again next year.
“Both his mother and I tried to convince Trevor that the
best thing for him was to stay in school and come back next
year,” Howland said.
Those suggestions fell on deaf ears. It almost seems as if Ariza
lives in his own world, a world where he believes he’s
entitled to an invitation to the NBA draft camp in Chicago.
Ariza’s press conference was equally full of
uncertainty.
“My dream has always been to go to the NBA ever since I
was little,” Ariza said.
Well, Ariza, you might still be dreaming it when you grow old,
too.
“I’m not really thinking about what if (I
don’t get drafted), because I don’t think that’s
happening.”
Brace yourself, Ariza, it might happen.
“I feel this is what I have to do.”
This statement is most puzzling. Has it become such an epidemic
that a player is now compelled to leave school? Or is something
wrong with Ariza? My guess is the latter.
Remember JaRon Rush? He was the third-best player on a mediocre
2000 team, but easily the most athletically gifted.
He went undrafted and got cut from the ABA and NBDL. JaRon at
least shot the ball well from the perimeter and stayed for two
years, improving by leaps and bounds between his freshman and
sophomore year. It still wasn’t enough.
Ariza made a living with his energy and desire, grabbing
offensive rebounds with his long arms and using his quickness to
get to loose balls. Easily the most athletically gifted player on
last year’s team, he was slated to start at power forward
next season.
No one questions whether Ariza played hard. At times, he looked
like the only one who wanted to be on the floor. For having donned
the UCLA uniform, you have to congratulate him (after all, he did
win Cal-HiSports Mr. Basketball as a high school senior), thank him
for the memories (the dunk over Washington’s Mike Jensen),
and wish him luck in the future (he’ll need it).
But a part of you wonders whether the resemblance to the Rush
situation goes beyond the fact both players wore No. 4. Four years
later, Rush is out of basketball, and most people only remember his
brother, current Laker Kareem Rush (who stayed at Missouri for
three years).
Where will Ariza be four years from now? Despite his
athleticism, it’s hard to imagine he’ll be in an NBA
uniform.
“It would have benefited him both as a student and as a
basketball player (to stay in school),” Howland said.
“But he is almost 19 years old now, and he made the decision
to put all his effort into being drafted this year.”
There’s almost an irony when it comes to the relationship
between Howland and Ariza. So many times, for making poor
decisions, Ariza was benched. Now, as Ariza is making the most
ill-advised decision of all, Howland won’t be there to set
him straight.