Lakers’ Ceballos Has a Strong Sense of Self and Little Else

The subject of this column is Cedric Ceballos, Cal State Fullerton basketball star from 1988 to 1990.

Initially, the theme was going to be: Where Are They Now?

But then, Ceballos, erstwhile Los Angeles Laker, ended his four-day career as a Havasu Laker and re-surfaced Sunday in Inglewood, finally off the house boat if not the suspended list.

A news conference was held at the Forum, where Ceballos surprisingly declined to disclose the lyrics for the new Laker fight song he had penned during spring break. (The much-rumored sing-along chorus: “C’mon Del Harris, won’t you let me take you on a Ced cruise?”)

Since playing 12 minutes last Tuesday against Seattle at the Forum, Ceballos’ personal statistical line has said much. Two games, no minutes at all.

March 21, at Seattle--DNP. Skipper’s decision.

March 24, Charlotte--DNP. Would’ve called sooner, but the cell phone got dumped overboard.

Maybe Ceballos has a time share at Lake Havasu and just couldn’t trade the third week of March with anyone.

Either that, or Ceballos has a time share with the Lakers he wasn’t prepared to live with. Share time with Eddie Jones? Who, Ced? The man who wears the same number as Michael Jordan because, well, can you give him any reason why not?

Ceballos can’t think of one, and there lies Del Harris’ on-going problem.

How do you sit a player who is convinced he is, or ought to be, L.A.’s answer to Jordan--The Show, The Game, The Man, The Reason To Buy The Ticket?

Doesn’t Ceballos, like Jordan, lead his team in points?

Isn’t Ceballos, like Jordan, an NBA all-star game slam-dunking god?

Therefore, why shouldn’t Ceballos, like Jordan, be permitted to walk away from basketball for another recreational activity? Baseball, water skiing--life’s a sport, drink it up, right?

Yes, Ceballos and Jordan are virtual clones, except for a couple of things.

Jordan usually plays 12 minutes a quarter, not 12 minutes a game.

Jordan has never lost minutes to Eddie Jones, Elden Campbell or Magic Johnson, for that matter. Not even on the Dream Team.

When it happened to Ceballos, Air Jr. couldn’t deal with it. First he bailed, then he sailed--forgetting, it would appear, the words he uttered on the eve of the 1990 NBA draft, shortly after finishing his senior season at Fullerton.

“If the Lakers picked me, that would be unbelievable,” Ceballos said then. “Playing for any California team would be great.”

Except, evidently, one that:

a) Is 17-7 since the second coming of Magic Johnson.

b) Has a real chance to represent the Western Conference for the first time since Magic retired the first time.

c) Prefers its best defensive players on the court at the end of close games.

On that last issue, Ceballos doesn’t quite break into the Lakers’ top five. As a Titan, as a Sun, as a Laker, as a who-knows-what-next, it has and will always be said about Ceballos: There is no ‘D’ in Cedric.

Before, Laker Coach Del Harris could overlook this deficiency. Before, when Ceballos was scoring 25 points a game and the young, rebuilding Lakers were the talk of the league when they won a first-round playoff series.

Now, the Lakers are contenders--anything less than the conference finals would be a disappointment--and when Ceballos plays a second half without scoring a point, as he did last Sunday against Orlando, and doesn’t play defense, he can expect to spend more and more of his NBA game nights bench-skiing.

Ceballos never won at Fullerton, and when he didn’t, he could always blame John Sneed. He never won it all at Phoenix, but, then, losing to Chicago in the finals still qualifies as a fairly legit excuse.

Finally, Ceballos has a chance to win with the Lakers, but, possibly, at a reduced playing rate. That’s a deal Sedale Threatt is comfortable enough with. Nick Van Exel, even, relinquished his share of the limelight if it meant accommodating Magic and games at the Forum into June. Ceballos, however, is having trouble buying into that program--and whoever said these Laker kids were too self-centered to pull together long enough to schedule a championship ring ceremony?

It’s that Jordan thing, again. Ceballos sees Jordan with his three diamond rings, but also sees that Michael always gets his minutes and his numbers. Ceballos wants it all, too, but if he can’t have it, well, 23.4 points and 7.3 boards still get the job done come contract time.

Ceballos is hardly alone in his If I Get Mine, Everything’s Fine approach to pro basketball. It may pain Charles Barkley and Patrick Ewing to have never won a title, but, really, those guys are dinosaurs. The new breed wants The Play Of The Day and the pay every second Tuesday and everything else is gravy. It’s the reason why star-laden Seattle continues to lose in the first round and why Houston’s traveling CBA Alumni Assn. has won the last two championships.

What Ceballos has done is find the symbol for the movement.

Coach’s substitution rotation got you down? Hang a sign on your locker stall and hit the interstate.

“PT’s ailin’, so I’ve gone sailin.’ ”