Ron Artest has no business in the NBA
By MICHAEL ROSENBERG
Detroit Free Press
AUBURN HILLS, Mich. - Go away, Ron Artest. Go far, far away.
Last week, you were an amusing circus act.
For much of Friday night, you were the best basketball player in the building.
And then you were something beyond Idiot and several miles past Nuts.
And now you need to disappear - not for a week, not for a month, and not for any amount of time that can be defined in conventional basketball terms. We're not measuring this in games missed. It goes beyond that.
An intense regular-season basketball game morphed into one of the ugliest nights in sports history Friday, and it's all because of Artest, the Pacers forward. Without him, there is no riot at the Pistons-Pacers game. Period.
Let's replay what happened: Artest committed a hard foul on Ben Wallace, which happens. Wallace retaliated with a shove to Artest's face, which was over the top, but it happens.
Artest went to lie down on the scorers' table like a sunbather and briefly grabbed a headset from the Pacers' broadcast team - which doesn't happen, but wasn't a huge deal. As other players scuffled, a fan threw a water bottle at Artest's head.
That was stupid and irresponsible - BUT IT HAPPENS. It shouldn't, but it does. And the expected level of decorum for players and coaches is higher than it is for fans.
Then Artest jumped up and ran into the stands with fists flying. He got there so fast, he almost knocked me over before I knew he was there.
Stupid me, I was watching the court.
Then Pacers Jermaine O'Neal, Eddie Gill and Steven Jackson jumped into the stands. Pistons broadcaster Rick Mahorn, trying to play peacemaker, followed. It was hard to tell who was trying to break up fights and who was trying to start one. Fans screamed "I punched Artest!" Or, if they were on the receiving end, "He hit me! He hit me!"
The next thing you knew, Artest coldcocked somebody, and O'Neal was said to have done the same, and chairs flew at the Pacers.
And a lot of it was inexcusable. But none of it would have happened if Artest had done what athletes are trained to do forever: ignore the fans.
You never, ever, EVER run into the stands. And if you dispute that, please tell me one time, just when, when a situation got better when a player bolted into the crowd.
As Palace President Tom Wilson said, "we're paid a lot of money" to maintain poise in that situation.
"I don't know that there was a security failure," Wilson said.
Wrong. Somebody let Artest into the building.
That can't happen for a long time, and it won't. Expect the longest suspension in NBA history. And expect police charges, although none was filed Friday.
What Ron Artest did has nothing to do with sports, nothing to do with the Pacers-Pistons rivalry and very little to do with the water bottle. He has teetered on the wall between sanity and insanity for a while, and Friday he fell on the wrong side. No, not fell. Jumped.
This is obviously a man in need of some serious help. Last week, when he asked coach Rick Carlisle for some time off to promote his CD, he was an amusing sideshow. There goes Ron-Ron again. Ha ha.
And Friday, he played brilliantly. He was the reason the Pacers won, 97-82. Then he was the reason the game ended with 45.9 seconds left.
Over the loudspeakers, fans were asked to leave the Palace. Then, and only then, did the clock wind down from 45.9. It was way, way, way too late.
Finally, long after the game was officially over, the Pacers' team bus departed the parking lot. It moved past the Pistons' cars, all of which were running, so that the Detroit players could make a quick exit. (None of them spoke to the media.)
Rain fell on the Palace parking lot. And as the bus wedged between a dozen or more police cars and a few ambulances, this much was clear: Ron Artest was in the wrong vehicle.
By MICHAEL ROSENBERG
Detroit Free Press
AUBURN HILLS, Mich. - Go away, Ron Artest. Go far, far away.
Last week, you were an amusing circus act.
For much of Friday night, you were the best basketball player in the building.
And then you were something beyond Idiot and several miles past Nuts.
And now you need to disappear - not for a week, not for a month, and not for any amount of time that can be defined in conventional basketball terms. We're not measuring this in games missed. It goes beyond that.
An intense regular-season basketball game morphed into one of the ugliest nights in sports history Friday, and it's all because of Artest, the Pacers forward. Without him, there is no riot at the Pistons-Pacers game. Period.
Let's replay what happened: Artest committed a hard foul on Ben Wallace, which happens. Wallace retaliated with a shove to Artest's face, which was over the top, but it happens.
Artest went to lie down on the scorers' table like a sunbather and briefly grabbed a headset from the Pacers' broadcast team - which doesn't happen, but wasn't a huge deal. As other players scuffled, a fan threw a water bottle at Artest's head.
That was stupid and irresponsible - BUT IT HAPPENS. It shouldn't, but it does. And the expected level of decorum for players and coaches is higher than it is for fans.
Then Artest jumped up and ran into the stands with fists flying. He got there so fast, he almost knocked me over before I knew he was there.
Stupid me, I was watching the court.
Then Pacers Jermaine O'Neal, Eddie Gill and Steven Jackson jumped into the stands. Pistons broadcaster Rick Mahorn, trying to play peacemaker, followed. It was hard to tell who was trying to break up fights and who was trying to start one. Fans screamed "I punched Artest!" Or, if they were on the receiving end, "He hit me! He hit me!"
The next thing you knew, Artest coldcocked somebody, and O'Neal was said to have done the same, and chairs flew at the Pacers.
And a lot of it was inexcusable. But none of it would have happened if Artest had done what athletes are trained to do forever: ignore the fans.
You never, ever, EVER run into the stands. And if you dispute that, please tell me one time, just when, when a situation got better when a player bolted into the crowd.
As Palace President Tom Wilson said, "we're paid a lot of money" to maintain poise in that situation.
"I don't know that there was a security failure," Wilson said.
Wrong. Somebody let Artest into the building.
That can't happen for a long time, and it won't. Expect the longest suspension in NBA history. And expect police charges, although none was filed Friday.
What Ron Artest did has nothing to do with sports, nothing to do with the Pacers-Pistons rivalry and very little to do with the water bottle. He has teetered on the wall between sanity and insanity for a while, and Friday he fell on the wrong side. No, not fell. Jumped.
This is obviously a man in need of some serious help. Last week, when he asked coach Rick Carlisle for some time off to promote his CD, he was an amusing sideshow. There goes Ron-Ron again. Ha ha.
And Friday, he played brilliantly. He was the reason the Pacers won, 97-82. Then he was the reason the game ended with 45.9 seconds left.
Over the loudspeakers, fans were asked to leave the Palace. Then, and only then, did the clock wind down from 45.9. It was way, way, way too late.
Finally, long after the game was officially over, the Pacers' team bus departed the parking lot. It moved past the Pistons' cars, all of which were running, so that the Detroit players could make a quick exit. (None of them spoke to the media.)
Rain fell on the Palace parking lot. And as the bus wedged between a dozen or more police cars and a few ambulances, this much was clear: Ron Artest was in the wrong vehicle.
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