Fans, Players Finally Wise Up: Moment Was Johnson’s

One more NBA All-Star ballot to fill out this morning:

Smartest Fans

a) Readers of the Orlando Sentinel. Sixty-two percent of them said Magic Johnson shouldn’t be allowed to play in Sunday’s All-Star game.

b) The rest of the country. They voted Magic into the Western Conference’s starting lineup.

Smartest Coach

a) Don Chaney. He said Magic shouldn’t play because the risk of HIV transmission on a basketball court is too great.

b) Mike Dunleavy. He had a three-letter prediction for Magic before Sunday’s tipoff: “MVP.”

Smartest Player

a) Charles Barkley. He said it was “unfortunate” Magic was playing, because his appearance was going to “take away from the publicity of the players who played the best during the first half of the season,” publicity he said should have gone instead to “guys like Jeff Hornacek and Otis Thorpe and Dan Majerle and Dikembe Mutombo, who are playing in their first All-Star game.”

b) Charles Barkley. On second thought, “I’m not upset Magic’s playing. If that’s what he wants to do, then that’s fine with me. If that’s what makes him happy, then great.”

And they say Barkley’s not a two-way player.

That’s the one good thing about opinions. Instant replay is allowed. For once, Barkley chose wisely--tis nobler to change one’s mind now than to stay wrong forever--and likewise, millions of Americans followed suit Sunday, switching channels on their mindsets.

Did Magic Johnson deserve to play in this All-Star game? In some shape or form, that was the most-asked question in Orlando this weekend--and from the start, it was the most misguided.

The better question:

Did this All-Star game deserve Magic Johnson?

It certainly didn’t welcome him with open arms, at least not until the pregame introductions, when longtime friend Isiah Thomas threw out the ceremonial first kiss and prodded the rest of his Eastern teammates into crossing midcourt to join in on the hugging and the handshaking.

The days leading up to Magic’s 12th--and final?--All-Star appearance illustrated all that is wrong with professional basketball, post-Magic. There was pettiness. There was jealousy. There was greed. There was paranoia.

The full-court smile Magic brought to the NBA logo has been replaced by a scowl and the evil eye. It was in evidence all week: What’s Magic trying to do here, cramp our style? Steal our thunder? Overshadow us? Infect us?

There never was a good reason to keep Magic out of this game, not one, and as each argument against was swatted out of play, another was immediately propped up, flimsier than the one before it.

So he was going to upstage the All-Star game. So what? If Magic Johnson is able to play, and medically cleared to play, any NBA All-Star game played without Magic Johnson is a misnomer.

He didn’t belong because he’s officially retired? Everything about Magic’s retirement--the individual and the reason why--is unprecedented. It should be treated as such.

Mike Schmidt was voted into baseball’s All-Star game after he’d retired a few years back, but didn’t serve because he had retired for conventional reasons--i.e., he could no longer hit the ball out of the infield. As 25 points and nine assists demonstrated Sunday, Magic’s skills have yet to fail him. The only thing that has is a public consensus about HIV. What does contracting it mean to an athlete of Magic’s age and caliber? No one knows for sure--but without opportunities such as Sunday’s, no one ever will.

What else? Oh, right: Magic shouldn’t play because the All-Star game is a reward for the 24 players having the best half-seasons. That was the best one. Ask America who it would rather see in this game--a couple of 40-game wonders . . . or the greatest point guard in the history of the sport, the 6-8 virtuoso who resurrected and revolutionized the game, the player who has put together 12 better seasons than anyone else?

That’s 24 half-seasons, if you’re counting.

Magic played because the fans voted that way (it’s still the fans’ game, last I heard) and because it’s a basketball all-star game , not the White House. The idea is to have some fun. Hands are meant to be clapped at these spectacles, not wrung.

So, was some fun had?

Sure enough, Magic upstaged everything and everyone in Orlando, including Cedric Ceballos’ sensational blind-folded victory in Saturday’s All-Star dunk-off. (Ceballos, from Cal State Fullerton, beat Larry Johnson, from UNLV, in the finals and Craig Hodges, from Cal State Long Beach, won the three-point competition. For one day, the Big West ruled the basketball world.)

Magic benefited from one time-honored All-Star tradition--defense is allowed, but not advised--which made this the perfect format for a comeback. But Magic more than upheld his end of the deal. He sank 12-foot hook shots over Dennis Rodman, he drove the length of the floor and drove harder as the game progressed, he scored on slippery reverse lay-ins, he saved the best for last--a three-point lob that dropped, dramatically, just before the final curtain.

The MVP trophy was Magic’s. So was the day, the hour, the moment.

Will there be others?

So far, doctors have advised against Magic resuming the airport-hotel-arena-airport grind that is the NBA’s regular season. Encouraged and emboldened by Sunday’s events, Magic said, “Maybe you’ll see me back, maybe you won’t.” He says he’s planning to play in the Olympics this summer and after that, he’ll see. We’ll all see.

Until then, we have Sunday. This was a game and a performance that will ring with resonance 10, 15, 20 years from now.

Without Magic, could Jeff Hornacek and Otis Thorpe have provided the same?