All-Star Vote Should Have Bothered A. C. Green

Karl Malone, the Mr. Universe forward of the NBA, feels slighted that the fans did not elect him a starter for Feb. 11’s All-Star Game.

He has a legitimate beef. Prime rib at that.

After all, the Utah Jazz power forward ranks among the league’s top five in scoring, rebounding and shooting percentage. In other words, they shouldn’t call him “The Mailman,” they should call him “The Postmaster General.”

But the truth is, A. C. Green of the Los Angeles Lakers is the one who should be upset. He should feel like a chef who is complimented for his “delicious vichyssoise” when in fact the dish he has served up is a bouilabaisse.

A. C. is not a franchise player. He’s a role player. He’s not a 30-points-a-night all-star scorer like Malone. A. C. averages 14 points a game--fourth best on his team, not second best in the entire league.

Nor does A. C. shoot 58 percent from the floor like Malone. Try 49 percent. Malone is The Mailman because he always delivers. A. C. doesn’t have a nickname. Heck, he doesn’t really have a name--the A. and the C., like Harry Truman’s middle initial S., don’t stand for anything.

All A. C. does similar to Malone is sweat by the bucketful and grab rebounds by the bushel--10 a game to The Mailman’s 11.

The Mailman is a crowd-pleasing, highlight-film dunking, bona fide name-in-headlines all-star. Last year he was MVP of the All-Star Game, to give you an idea.

A. C. is merely the fifth option in the Lakers’ offense. He doesn’t score his points off set plays, he scores off hustle and muscle. He scores off offensive rebounds and by filling the lane on fastbreaks.

A. C. can hit the 18-foot jumper. It’s just that he generally leaves the flashy stuff for perennial all-stars like Magic Johnson, James Worthy and Byron Scott. After all, if A. C. is out on the perimeter shooting, who’s going to crash the boards?

A. C. is 6-foot-9 and invisible. He’s Kurt Rambis without the Clark Kent fan club. A. C. gets his picture in the paper only when he’s in the background of a photo focused on Magic or Worthy or Jack Nicholson or the Laker Girls.

Even coach Pat Riley gets more ink and commercials than A. C. American Express would like A. C., but nobody does know him--except for the 17,505 Laker fans who stuffed the ballot box each night.

Voting Green an all-star was a crime--against A. C., not Malone. It demeans A. C.’s style of play. Puts on false airs. All-stars are vichyssoise guys who demand attention. And demand the ball.

A. C. is potato soup. He specializes in getting the ball for the firm of Magic, Worthy & Associates.

A. C. is like a good waiter--he’s doing his job properly when nobody notices that he’s even around. If you do notice him, he’s messing up.

But now everyone will be watching him. He’s an all-star now. A marked man. For the first time in his five-year career, fans will be expecting the Bible-studying kid from Oregon State to dunk behind his head and whistle behind-the-back passes to Magic instead of catch them.

The all-star selection caught A. C. off guard--something he seldom is on the basketball court.

“I was surprised,” A. C. admits. “On paper you’d think (Malone) would be on the (starting) team. I mean, he does it night in, night out.”

Of course, you don’t play basketball games on paper. Besides, A. C. also does it night in and night out. No, A. C. isn’t an all-star by statistics. There’s no column on the stat sheet for “Heart.” He’s never scored--or likely ever will--61 points in a game as The Mailman did the other night.

All A. C. does is help his team win. He has three NBA championship rings to prove it.

You see, every club needs a starter like A. C., just as every movie needs a talented supporting actor as well as a marquee star. If you had five Robert Redfords there wouldn’t be enough close up shots to go around. If you had five Michael Jordans or Karl Malones, you’d need three basketballs. When you have an A. C. Green, one basketball will suffice.

Actually, perhaps the fans knew all that. Maybe they stuffed the ballot boxes for A. C. because he’s a bona fide all-star team-player.