Clippers Draft Well, Trade Poorly

The Clippers exist, I am now firmly convinced, only to let the Kings and the Angels feel better about themselves.

The Kings can’t meet a payroll, the Angels can’t buy a pennant, but they at least have their occasional moments of lucidity. The Wayne Gretzky trade, for example. The Lee Smith signing, for another.

For the Clippers, however, life is one long Benoitbenjaminreggiewilliamsjoe-wolfdannyferrybokimblerandy woodsleronellisrodneyrogers brianwilliams. Et cetera, et al, Et tu, Bill Fitch?

The Clippers couldn’t happen in a fictional world or a comic strip. Far too nonsensical for that. Every now and then, Charlie Brown hits a home run. Once in a while, Beavis and Butt-Head pass a class.

But the Clippers--what do the Clippers ever do right?

They don’t play in the right city.

They don’t play in the right building.

They don’t hire the right former Laker superstar to be their general manager.

They can’t win a playoff series.

They can’t win the lottery.

They can’t keep the right coach.

They can’t keep the right players.

They can’t draft the right players.

They can’t trade for the right players.

Every so often, they do draft almost the right player--and then they trade him for three wrong ones. This happened again Wednesday night, in the annual NBA Draft/Los Angeles Clipper Giveaway, when our heroes made a reasonably coherent first selection--Alabama forward Antonio McDyess--and traded him down, down, down the board to Denver for a potential benchwarmer at forward (Rodney Rogers), a potential benchwarmer at center (Brian Williams) and a potential benchwarmer at guard (Brent Barry).

In NBA draft circles, this is known as rolling McDyess and coming up empty.

(In fairness, it should be noted that Rogers can warm the bench at either power forward or small forward and Barry can ride the pine at the Nos. 1 and 2 guard positions, so the Clippers did trade for versatility.)

The Clippers began Wednesday night holding the No. 2 pick in the draft. Hard to screw this one up, one thinks. But: One thinks, therefore one is not employed by the Clippers.

With Maryland’s Joe Smith taken by Golden State at No. 1, the Clippers had the rest of the field to themselves. Dozens of players from which to choose. Hundreds, actually. From Alexander to Zidek. Take a star, any star.

For the Clippers, however, this was no good. No good at all. Too many choices. Too much information. Is Jerry Stackhouse really the next Michael Jordan? Is McDyess really the next Karl Malone? Does Stackhouse really not want to play for us? If so, does that make him the next Danny Ferry? Do we want the next Danny Ferry? Do we want the next Michael Jordan? Who’s directing the next Michael Jordan commercial? What’s the deal with those Shaq and Hakeem newspaper letters? How do you pronounce “McDyess?” Can we get one of those chain letters from Shaq and Hakeem, too?

Somewhere around there, the brains in the Clipper front office shorted out. Sensory overload. Abandon ship.

According to the Clippers, General Manager Elgin Baylor lost his voice. According to the rest of the league, he lost his mind. With sweaty palms and a furrowed brow, Baylor desperately grabbed McDyess--all these magazines said he was really good--and then he phoned Denver.

The conversation, I am told, went exactly like this:

Baylor: “Did I do good?”

Nuggets: “You did fine, Elgin, just fine.”

Baylor: “What do I do now?”

Nuggets: “You make the trade.”

Baylor: “What trade?”

Nuggets: “The McDyess trade. You trade McDyess.”

Baylor: “I do?”

Nuggets: “Yes, you do.”

Baylor: “Trade him where?”

Nuggets: “To us.”

Baylor: “And what do we get?”

Nuggets: “Rogers, Williams and the guy we take at 15. You do remember the deal, don’t you?”

Baylor: “Sure I do. Sure I do. Let’s see, that’s Rogers and . . . um . . . hmmm . . . don’t tell me, don’t tell me . . . uh, David Thompson?”

Nuggets: “No. He’s retired.”

Baylor: “Dan Issel?”

Nuggets: “Him too.”

Baylor: “OK, I give.”

Nuggets: “Rogers, Williams and the guy we draft at No. 15. Probably Brent Barry. That’s the guy you said you wanted.”

Baylor: “Oh, right, that’s Rick Barry’s kid. I played against Rick Barry. Did you know that?”

Nuggets: “Yes, Elgin, we knew that. So, do we have a deal?”

Baylor: “Lemme make one more phone call.”

Nuggets: “Who now?”

Baylor: “My special draft day consultant. A real war-room veteran. He’s knows all about this kind of stuff.”

Nuggets: “Who’s that?”

Baylor: “Chuck Knox. But don’t tell anybody, OK? It’s a secret.”

By all accounts, Baylor lost his voice a few seconds too late. Deal consummated, Clipper Coach Bill Fitch pinch-alibied for Baylor, demonstrating that he, too, has fallen victim to the Donald T. Vulcan Brain Grip.

Asked why the Clips didn’t draft Stackhouse and trade him for, perhaps, a more attractive package, Fitch said: “Nobody wanted Stackhouse.”

Reality: Stackhouse went to Philadelphia on the very next pick.

Asked why the Clips didn’t keep McDyess long enough to see if he actually be the Next Karl Malone, Fitch said: “You can’t always take the most popular route, so you start looking for shortcuts that will stand the test of time. In other words, you’ve got to get two bodies instead of one out of the draft if you can.”

Reality: No shortcut stands the test of time. That’s why they’re called “shortcuts.” And the Clippers have enough bodies already. Twelve of them lost 65 games last season.

What the Clippers need are quality NBA players. McDyess, according to Fitch, “will be a very good player in this league.” With the Clippers, one of those is not enough, but one is always preferable to none.

Rogers, Williams and Barry will give the Clippers numbers, though.

How does 12-70 sound?