Still Kersey After All These Years

Clyde Drexler, a longtime teammate, had it right. He was the one who called him “Jerome Crazy.” Everyone else agreed.

“Most people said I’d be on my way out three years ago,” Jerome Kersey says.

Three years ago?

Those were the optimists. The realists had pretty much started a pool in the ‘80s to guess when Kersey would be carted out of some NBA arena for the last time, twisted wreckage like some cartoon character with its spinal column in a series of right angles.

“I don’t think anybody ever actually said that,” says Larry Drew, a 10-year pro and current Laker assistant coach. “But a number of players--a number of players--had that thought. It’s like with those crash dummies they test cars with. They put them in a car and run it into a wall, and then they know they’re no good anymore.

“I just recall my first time playing against him. I was still in Kansas City. I remember a play, Portland was coming down on a fast break and Jerome was running the wing. We had two big guys standing right there, almost side by side, not right under the basket.

“I was just completely shocked that Jerome would challenge both those guys. Just completely shocked. He caught the ball on the wing, went in and attacked the rim, dunked and got fouled. He had the chance to get the ball and shoot a nice little comfortable jump shot. But he attacked the rim.

“He knew he was going to get hammered. He knew it. Mark Olberding was one of the guys. Mark, he was one of the Bruise Brothers, but Jerome took it to him. Mark hammered him good. But Jerome got up and went to the free-throw line. That told me what type of player he was going to be.

“The way he drove the lane, the way he contested shots, the way he went for loose balls, you knew he wasn’t going to last long. You knew it. But, here he is.”

*

Here he is, about two months shy of his 35th birthday, after Portland made him the 46th pick of the 1984 draft, after 11 seasons with the Trail Blazers and another with the Golden State Warriors, after trips to the finals as the starting small forward in 1990 and ’92. Here he is, a Laker.

That he isn’t a 6-foot-7 walking cavity filling--metal plate here, metal plate there--is one of the NBA’s great upsets. Kersey has no right to be getting around without the help of a walker, let alone playing a major role for a team that went 56-26 and is a victory away from the Western Conference semifinals.

He was ticketed long ago to be spending this season in a freezer, thereby avoiding the hassle of going back and forth for all those ice bags, not starting 44 games at small forward.

He was expected to be making some insurance company real sorry for ever selling him a policy, not playing 1,766 minutes, the most in five seasons and the seventh-most of his career.

He was supposed to be more of a hospital regular than George Clooney, not keeping the Lakers afloat at the position when Cedric Ceballos and then Robert Horry suffered knee injuries that cost a combined 49 games.

The daredevil thing should have caught up to him by now. From landing hard on his back after crashing the offensive boards at some ridiculous angle. Or hard on his side after diving for a loose ball. Or hard on his face after lunging for a steal. Or . . .

“I think that’s what keeps him going,” Coach Del Harris said. “He has only one speed.”

It’s R on the gear display. Relentless.

Evel Knievel had his Caesars Palace, Kersey had his Forum. It was sometime in the early ‘90s, though no one remembers for sure, especially Kersey because “I don’t want to remember.” Magic Johnson was driving to the basket against Terry Porter. Trail Blazer Clifford Robinson came over to help. So did another teammate, Kersey.

He went up, stretched for the block, and collided with Robinson’s shoulder. He was caught somewhere in the middle of his reverse 2 1/2 in the pike position when he landed on the court, just a few feet from the lane across from the Portland bench. The bigger problem was, he landed on the back of his neck.

The stock market doesn’t crash as dramatically. Use of limbs seemed a pretty obvious goal about then, but Kersey was no more than temporarily slowed. So when his body parts finally unite one day and rebel against him, you know the neck will be somewhere in front leading the charge.

“I can’t play any different,” he said. “I try not to play any different.”

He doesn’t work at trying hard. It just happens that way.

“He definitely still does the same things,” Robinson said. “Ball hawking. Making things happen.”

After the Lakers ended the regular season with a loss at Portland, their third game in four days, they flew to Palm Springs that night and began a mini-camp the next day, in preparation for the playoffs.

“And who practiced the hardest?” Harris said. “Jerome Kersey.”

So the Lakers call him “Wild Thing” or “Predator,” wait for the ball to go up, and then watch the sugar rush kick in. Playing for the league’s veteran minimum of $247,500 on a one-year contract, Kersey finished 20th in the league in steals and second in steal-to-turnover ratio, behind only Chicago’s Ron Harper. He was first, tied for first at the worst, in being the model of effort.

As if the Trail Blazers needed any reminding, it has come in the playoffs. In Game 1, Kersey had 10 rebounds in 24 minutes off the bench, more than any Portland starter, some of whom played 18 more minutes. In Game 2, he had four points, three rebounds, two blocks and one steal, but his 26 minutes were four more than Horry and Kersey played a key role in Robinson missing seven of 11 shots.

Not bad for a guy who should have been in traction, not the playoffs.

Who had 1998 in the pool, anyway?

(BEGIN TEXT OF INFOBOX / INFOGRAPHIC)

NBA PLAYOFFS

LAKERS vs. BLAZERS

Lakers lead series 2-0

* Game 1: Lakers, 95-77

* Game 2: Lakers, 107-93

* Game 3: Wednesday at Portland, 7:30

* Game 4: Friday at Portland, TBA*

* Game 5: Sunday at Forum, TBA*

* if necessary