There Is No Lead for UCLA to Follow

Four seasons of Cameron Dollar did not exhaust UCLA’s need for him, not by at least a year and probably much more than that.

Without the former Bruin point guard now, without his ability and will to knock prima donnas off pedestals and transform platitudes into promises, the Bruins look less like a cohesive unit than a careless NBA tryout camp.

With all the problems and drop-outs of the NBA lifestyle.

Without Dollar, Jelani McCoy flopped around all season--until his resignation from the team Saturday night--without serious consequence, or, apparently, real guidance from anybody in Westwood.

Without Dollar, lawyers, and not anybody on the team, had to handle that sad situation.

Without Dollar--the only Bruin mainstay of recent vintage who did not care if he made it to the NBA--the UCLA program has become a safe place for self-promotion, catering to large egos, high-maintenance talent, and the mini-mistakes of Coach Steve Lavin.

Lavin, of course, in only his first full season as the Bruin coach, cannot be blamed for what sources say were McCoy’s repeated violations of the school’s drug-testing policy. McCoy is responsible for himself and will pay the price himself.

Lavin’s disingenuous statements throughout the agonizing process, all the way through his groan-inducing news-conference performance on Sunday, were probably more a product of a lawyer’s prodding than a weak willingness to mislead.

But the team’s recent sloppy play signifies a sloppier attitude around Pauley Pavilion of late--UCLA’s chaotic half-court offense, its lax perimeter defense, Lavin’s strained reactions to even the smallest second-guessing.

In that context, McCoy’s ever-increasing distance from the team and from its rules is a dark indicator for the future, because McCoy was not a bad person finally bounced for horrible crimes.

McCoy is a smart, stubborn 20-year-old with the God-given talent to control basketball games, who didn’t know any better and was never forced to know better. He wasn’t a lost cause, not until midway through this season.

These things do not happen in a vacuum.

Dollar, and, to a degree, Charles O’Bannon, served as battle-field generals for Lavin’s inexperienced staff during last season: If these two seniors, national-championship heroes, stood by the young interim coach in the troubled times after Jim Harrick’s ugly dismissal, who would dare to object?

If they didn’t roll their eyes at Lavin’s cornball speeches and his need to grab attention, if they took what was best of Lavin--his energy, his focus on the positive, his ability to communicate--and ignored the excesses of Lavin, so would Toby Bailey, J.R. Henderson and the rest.

Dollar was 5 feet 11, earth-bound and prone to occasional physical errors. Still, when he was in the game, UCLA usually won, and won with heart and style.

His hallmark was defense, and victory in the biggest games, in the tightest moments:

* Though he wasn’t the fastest or best jumper or anywhere near the best scorer, Dollar tore through Washington State late last season for a last-second basket to save a victory.

* He followed that up with his momentous 85-foot dance through the Iowa State defense for a bank shot over center Kelvin Cato in overtime to put UCLA into the Elite Eight.

* In his junior year, he made a wild, spinning 48-foot heave to beat Washington at Pauley Pavilion, also in overtime.

* And of course, in one of the steeliest performances in UCLA history, he came in for the injured Tyus Edney 2:53 into the 1995 national-title game against Arkansas, and basically played perfect basketball to help UCLA to its 11th national championship.

Not much of that is happening now.

This season, by contrast, UCLA has had six games that would be called high-impact matchups and gone 1-5 in those games (a victory over New Mexico, and losses to North Carolina, Arizona, Oregon and a sweep by Stanford).

Dollar was the grown-up last season, when Lavin served as head cheerleader and O’Bannon the superstar. Together, they earned Lavin the full-time job midway through the season, then carried the Bruins to the Midwest Regional finals.

But O’Bannon is in the NBA now.

Dollar is at UC Irvine as a first-year assistant coach, not staring down his UCLA teammates’ lackadaisical moments or organizing the Bruin offense on the fly or illuminating every one of Lavin’s speeches with his own indomitable leadership.

Bailey, Henderson and Kris Johnson are fabulous basketball players, have been for years. But they are not natural, demanding leaders. Johnson could be, perhaps, but he has had his own flare-ups.

Baron Davis and Earl Watson have tremendous talent and obvious futures as dominant college guards, but they are freshmen and play like freshmen.

Dollar and Charles O’Bannon were the last remnant of UCLA’s 1995 national-title winning formula of superior, mature players (Edney, Ed O’Bannon, and George Zidek), charismatic and secure assistant coaches (Lorenzo Romar and Mark Gottfried) and ferocious role players.

Romar, now coaching Pepperdine, looms as an especially aching UCLA void. He recruited quality players, and he kept them on the right path once they came to Westwood.

By comparison, Lavin, in one of his first major moves after signing Davis, made a me-first dive for cash.

He refused to sign the four-year contract he had agreed to last February, and, through his agent, Arn Tellem, demanded a giant raise and an extra year.

With the UCLA brass aware that Lavin had won over the Bruin nation with his flair and tournament success, he got what he wanted.

Maybe the real Steve Lavin era began when he signed that five-year, $2.375-million contract last October. Ask the UCLA administration what kind of signal Lavin sent during that renegotiation.

Without Dollar, UCLA has lost both its best center, and its moral center.