http://www.indystar.com/apps/pbcs.dl...504200413/1088
This team owes its superstar an apology
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The night will be overflowing with warmth and fuzziness, awash in kind words and fond memories. The Pacers, a model franchise until this most recent season, will send Reggie Miller out with class and dignity. And Miller, a model player and teammate all the way to the end, will say all the right things, and remind us why he's the most special athlete ever to come through Indianapolis.
What won't be said, though, needs to be said, at least by somebody:
The Pacers -- from the top of management down to some of Miller's teammates -- have absolutely done Miller dirty with their indecision, poor judgment and general immaturity throughout this strange and uneven season.
It's like this:
Miller, who thought about retiring after last season, should have been given every opportunity to win a title in his final season.
But Larry Bird, who knew he dodged a bullet last season with Ron Artest and understood his talented but troubled star needed to be moved sooner rather than later, could not and did not get it done.
The result, then, came as no surprise.
From the moment Ron Artest made that fateful decision to respond to a plastic cup by running into the stands Nov. 19 in Auburn Hills, Mich., Miller's chance for a championship was doomed.
The blue-and-gold true believers will continue to believe their own fiction. They will continue to blame it all on Ben Wallace. They will continue to blame it on the knucklehead whose eerily accurate cup toss hit Artest. They will continue to blame commissioner David Stern, who did the only thing he could do if he was serious about maintaining his league's credibility. If they could, they would blame it all on Bob Lanier and Dave Bing.
Granted, nobody covered themselves with glory on the night that introduced us to the term "vomitorium." But in the end, it was up to the Pacers to stay above the fray, and instead, they got down in the muck, threw punches and brandished dustpans and let a couple of drunks destroy not only their championship season, but Uncle Reggie's final chance for a title.
Do I hear any apologies?
Publicly, I've heard none.
Maybe there's been a private moment when Artest or somebody else has gone to Miller and said, "Reg, we're sorry about how this all came down. You deserved better."
But I doubt it.
Now, if you're waiting for Miller to bring up that subject, it's going to be a long, fruitless wait. This guy is not only one of the game's great scorers and leaders, but he's one of the greatest teammates in professional sports. He has not once suggested, publicly or privately, he was betrayed by management and a handful of players this season.
But I'll say it.
The fact is, Miller, one of the last loyal men in sports, should not be playing in tonight's regular-season finale for a chance to finish sixth in the Eastern Conference rather than seventh. (Against Boston, they have a puncher's chance. Against Detroit, they have no chance, although the TV ratings should go through the roof.)
This isn't why he came back for one more season.
And yet even as the season began circling the drain in the weeks and months after the brawl, it was Miller who re-emerged as Indiana's most dominant player, its ultimate pro. He could have gone in the tank and wondered aloud why he didn't go someplace else to chase a championship; that's what everybody else does, right? Instead, Miller started playing like it was 1999, willing this team to the playoffs, even if they're currently limping to the finish.
"I feel like I've won the lottery," he said after a win over the Nets ensured a playoff spot.
Now, as he leaves the scene -- in a week, maybe two -- we are left to wonder where the Pacers are supposed to find their next Miller.
We know it's not Artest. We know it's not Stephen Jackson, who can be great one night and a hopelessly immature hothead the next. We know it's not Jamaal Tinsley or Jonathan Bender. (Remember them?)
Clearly, Jermaine O'Neal will be the face of the franchise, but there's still some question whether he can be its heart and soul. He says all the right things, and most of the time he does the right things. But there is still the hint of the diva in him. He still has too many moments when he -- gasp -- acts his still-tender age of 26. O'Neal has grown tremendously, both physically and mentally, since he arrived here, so he, more than anybody on the roster, has a chance to recall Miller as a leader and a teammate.
But not yet.
So Uncle Reggie gets to say one of his last goodbyes tonight, and the Pacers need to pray it's after a victory over the Bulls, which would give them a shot at Boston rather than Detroit. What won't be said, though, is the one thing that should be said, whether it's public or in private.
Simply this:
We're sorry.
This team owes its superstar an apology
Related articles
• Pacers fans prepare to say goodbye to Reggie
• TV to show ceremony for Miller
• Pacers can clinch 6th seed with win
The night will be overflowing with warmth and fuzziness, awash in kind words and fond memories. The Pacers, a model franchise until this most recent season, will send Reggie Miller out with class and dignity. And Miller, a model player and teammate all the way to the end, will say all the right things, and remind us why he's the most special athlete ever to come through Indianapolis.
What won't be said, though, needs to be said, at least by somebody:
The Pacers -- from the top of management down to some of Miller's teammates -- have absolutely done Miller dirty with their indecision, poor judgment and general immaturity throughout this strange and uneven season.
It's like this:
Miller, who thought about retiring after last season, should have been given every opportunity to win a title in his final season.
But Larry Bird, who knew he dodged a bullet last season with Ron Artest and understood his talented but troubled star needed to be moved sooner rather than later, could not and did not get it done.
The result, then, came as no surprise.
From the moment Ron Artest made that fateful decision to respond to a plastic cup by running into the stands Nov. 19 in Auburn Hills, Mich., Miller's chance for a championship was doomed.
The blue-and-gold true believers will continue to believe their own fiction. They will continue to blame it all on Ben Wallace. They will continue to blame it on the knucklehead whose eerily accurate cup toss hit Artest. They will continue to blame commissioner David Stern, who did the only thing he could do if he was serious about maintaining his league's credibility. If they could, they would blame it all on Bob Lanier and Dave Bing.
Granted, nobody covered themselves with glory on the night that introduced us to the term "vomitorium." But in the end, it was up to the Pacers to stay above the fray, and instead, they got down in the muck, threw punches and brandished dustpans and let a couple of drunks destroy not only their championship season, but Uncle Reggie's final chance for a title.
Do I hear any apologies?
Publicly, I've heard none.
Maybe there's been a private moment when Artest or somebody else has gone to Miller and said, "Reg, we're sorry about how this all came down. You deserved better."
But I doubt it.
Now, if you're waiting for Miller to bring up that subject, it's going to be a long, fruitless wait. This guy is not only one of the game's great scorers and leaders, but he's one of the greatest teammates in professional sports. He has not once suggested, publicly or privately, he was betrayed by management and a handful of players this season.
But I'll say it.
The fact is, Miller, one of the last loyal men in sports, should not be playing in tonight's regular-season finale for a chance to finish sixth in the Eastern Conference rather than seventh. (Against Boston, they have a puncher's chance. Against Detroit, they have no chance, although the TV ratings should go through the roof.)
This isn't why he came back for one more season.
And yet even as the season began circling the drain in the weeks and months after the brawl, it was Miller who re-emerged as Indiana's most dominant player, its ultimate pro. He could have gone in the tank and wondered aloud why he didn't go someplace else to chase a championship; that's what everybody else does, right? Instead, Miller started playing like it was 1999, willing this team to the playoffs, even if they're currently limping to the finish.
"I feel like I've won the lottery," he said after a win over the Nets ensured a playoff spot.
Now, as he leaves the scene -- in a week, maybe two -- we are left to wonder where the Pacers are supposed to find their next Miller.
We know it's not Artest. We know it's not Stephen Jackson, who can be great one night and a hopelessly immature hothead the next. We know it's not Jamaal Tinsley or Jonathan Bender. (Remember them?)
Clearly, Jermaine O'Neal will be the face of the franchise, but there's still some question whether he can be its heart and soul. He says all the right things, and most of the time he does the right things. But there is still the hint of the diva in him. He still has too many moments when he -- gasp -- acts his still-tender age of 26. O'Neal has grown tremendously, both physically and mentally, since he arrived here, so he, more than anybody on the roster, has a chance to recall Miller as a leader and a teammate.
But not yet.
So Uncle Reggie gets to say one of his last goodbyes tonight, and the Pacers need to pray it's after a victory over the Bulls, which would give them a shot at Boston rather than Detroit. What won't be said, though, is the one thing that should be said, whether it's public or in private.
Simply this:
We're sorry.
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