Rocket Booster

So long, Hakeem, Charlie and Clyde.

Gone are the Houston Rockets’ three musketeers, and just in time, before they unsheathed their swords and started in on each other. One for all and all for one? Not last season.

Hello, Hakeem, Charlie and Scottie!

Another season, another Rocket cast, another last hurrah, with Scottie Pippen replacing the retired Clyde Drexler alongside Hakeem Olajuwon and Charles Barkley. They may look like a leisure community, but they still comprise three of the NBA’s top 50 all-time players.

Of course, it took a few days before Pippen was really “alongside” Barkley. When Pippen arrived, Barkley was in La Quinta, playing in the Bob Hope Classic, which ran through the first two days of camp. Not that he volunteered to leave early to join the guys in some sprints, or that Rocket officials did anything but roll their eyes. Talk about your player-friendly organization.

Actually, Pippen’s deal got jammed up in red tape, requiring a rewrite of his contract, pushing the start of camp back, or Barkley would have missed the first four days.

“Are you concerned Barkley isn’t here?” Coach Rudy Tomjanovich was asked.

“He didn’t miss anything,” says Tomjanovich, laughing.

A relaxed managerial style is one reason the Rockets have become a haven for aging stars yearning for one more title run, finding conditions ideal in this player-friendly corner of Texas, where the weather is mild (compared to Chicago in winter or Phoenix in summer); a basketball star isn’t expected to spend any of his fortune; where there’s no state income tax and free-spirited night life, besides.

By rights, the Rockets should be well into the clueless-youth phase of rebuilding by now, five years after Olajuwon, who was then 31, led them to their first miracle title in 1994, when they won four playoff games in which they could have been eliminated, but they’ve managed to extend the process . . . and extend it further . . . and further still.

In 1995, when the fluke seemed to have landed, they made a midseason trade for Drexler, finished 17-18 . . . then staged an even greater miracle, going 5-0 in elimination games before sweeping Orlando in the finals.

In 1996, they traded for Barkley, who has won no titles but keeps things interesting.

In 1999, they landed Pippen, bailing out of the burning dynasty in Chicago, yearning to play alongside his friends Charlie and Hakeem.

Actually, Pippen’s No. 1 desire was to play alongside his friends Shaquille O’Neal and Kobe Bryant, but all the Lakers offered the Bulls was Elden Campbell and picks. The Bulls, whose idea of a trade package these days is three guys with expiring contracts who can be cut for cap room this summer, weren’t enchanted at the thought of assuming a $40-million commitment to Campbell.

Don’t think the Rockets didn’t tremble at the thought every minute they were trying to close the deal with Pippen.

“It was hell,” Tomjanovich says. “We heard all these rumors that there’s a deal, he’s going here, he’s going all these different places. That was tough.”

The Lakers?

“Yeah, we could see it happening. I could see those guys pulling it off.”

But they didn’t. Now Pippen, so long at odds with Bulls management, hears himself hailed by Rocket officials, players and fans as if he had just arrived bearing the Larry O’Brien Trophy and enough rings for each of them.

Rocket owner Les Alexander introduces him as a “future Hall of Famer, a winner, a guy who can bring us a championship--many championships--something we want very badly in Houston,” adding, “We’re in awe of his rings.”

Tomjanovich says he’s “the most fortunate coach in the league,” adding, “Everyone involved with this organization feels honored that Scottie Pippen has decided to become a Houston Rocket.”

Pippen--”the most complete player in basketball,” according to Rudy T--is asked if can remember being described in such glowing terms.

“It’s been quite some time,” he says, smiling.

Now to mop up those other schleps and accept the first of their many championship trophies.

Wild, Wild Westside

Not that the latest New Rocket Era, or anything else in the NBA these days, is off to a smooth start.

The introductory news conference, usually a ritual photo/sound bite op, turns into a mini-career as paperwork swamps the NBA’s legal staff. When the NBA lawyers finally get to Pippen’s five-year, $82-million deal, including $15 million in laughably easy incentives, they bounce it back, as much as telling the Rockets to get real.

The news conference is to be a full-dress affair on the basketball court at the tony Westside Tennis Club, scheduled to start at 5 p.m.

At 6:15, a Rocket publicity aide says Pippen’s plane is still in the air.

At 6:45, Pippen and his wife arrive in a white stretch limo, but the news conference still doesn’t start.

The Rockets re-provision their buffet, bringing out a cheese tray, cheese sticks, cheese pizzas, then beer. They say Pippen sprang for it, although the vegetarian theme suggests either the Rockets paid or Pippen has gotten with the program really fast.

(In a league in which the issue doesn’t often come up, the Rockets are the leading crusaders for animal rights, a cause long championed by Alexander’s wife. Rocket cheerleaders wear “Animals have rights” T-shirts. People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals has a full-page ad in the media guide, a picture of a young woman wearing a low-cut gown made of giant leaves, with the slogan, “Let Vegetarianism Grow on You.”)

It’s a surreal, surreal world. On this same court, so many NBA players played during the lockout: Nick Van Exel, Avery Johnson, Robert Horry, Shaquille O’Neal (whose girlfriend is from here), Penny Hardaway, Bo Outlaw, Stephon Marbury, David Robinson, Tim Duncan, Sam Cassell, Antonio McDyess . . .

John Lucas, now a Denver Nugget assistant coach, is tennis director at Westside. It is here that he and Van Exel, the new Nugget, sweet-talked McDyess into forsaking offers from winning programs in Phoenix and Houston to return to moribund, snow-covered Denver.

Van Exel has moved here. So has McDyess. What is it about this place?

“It’s an athlete-friendly city,” a Rocket official says. “They don’t pay for anything. They come to this place, they play, they eat free.”

Then there’s the night life, which everyone seems to mention. Of course, someone notes, there’s night life everywhere.

“Not like here,” says the Rocket official, laughing.

At 8:30, Pippen, Alexander and Tomjanovich come out to tell the press they may not hear anything that night.

Pippen’s agent, Jimmy Sexton, is surrounded by media people. He says he expects it all to be worked out, it’ll just take a few more hours.

“So Bulls fans shouldn’t have any slight hopes?” asks Amy Stone of Chicago’s NBC affiliate, WMAQ-TV, there being almost as many members of the Bulls press corps around as there are locals.

“Bulls fans?” says Sexton, looking startled by the question. He grins.

“No,” he says.

In Chicago, hope springs almost eternally, but it’s about to be quashed forever. At 8:30 the next night, the news conference finally goes off. Everyone says nice things about Pippen, who says nice things back, even graciously refusing to re-air his grievances against the Bulls, whose dynasty could be ongoing, except for their years of feuds.

Pippen has accrued some $5 million in annual endorsement business and has been advised it isn’t good business to trot his resentment out. But there’s something genuine about it too. In a move that dumbfounds his inner circle, Pippen calls Bull General Manager Jerry Krause, to thank him for facilitating his departure.

But there’s no covering up the bitterness. The Bulls long ago decided they would never sign Pippen long term, but even if they had offered him the maximum $110 million, six-year deal, Pippen would still be a Rocket.

“No, not at all,” he says, asked for the millionth time by a member of the Chicago media if he considered returning.

“I knew after the season, with Michael [Jordan] speaking to me throughout the season about his retirement, it was time for me to move on, it was going to be different for me. And especially a guy who was used to being in the playoffs and used to contending for a title.

“That’s why I wanted to be here. That’s the thrill I get out of playing this game, being able to excel late in the season and this team provides me that opportunity.”

For the Bulls, “late in the season” now means April, but this divorce was a long time coming.

It started with Pippen’s failure to heed owner Jerry Reinsdorf’s warning that the five-year, $18-million deal he was about to sign in 1993 would leave him beneath his market value by its end. After that came years of squabbling that didn’t seem to trouble management: Pippen charging the team plane was unsafe, refusing to fly on it and paying for his own commercial ticket in 1995; Pippen delaying his 1997 surgery for heel spurs until late in the summer, costing him half of last season; Pippen saying Reinsdorf “could go to hell,” demanding a trade and vowing to never put on a Bulls uniform again . . . before returning.

“I felt like that was the end,” Pippen says. “I wanted to try to go out on top, and do my best and not let my teammates down and give them what I had to bring to the game . . .”

One door closes and another one opens.

Travels With Charlie

“I’m glad to be back. When’s the first practice?”

--Barkley, shortly after signing on the 10th tee at Tamarisk

Oh, two days ago?

Only Tomjanovich could look at this NBA version of a Gray Panther convention and say he’s the “most fortunate coach in the league.” If this were 1993, he could, but five years is a generation in the NBA and one has passed.

Olajuwon is 36 and if he once looked bionic--remember his humiliation of most valuable player David Robinson in the West finals in 1995?--he found out he was human last season, when he had his left knee ‘scoped and posted a career low in scoring (16.4) before arising in the playoffs and leading the Rockets to a 2-1 lead over the Jazz in the first round . . . before fading away for good.

Hakeem sat out 35 games, Barkley 24, Drexler 12, which may have been a blessing, since they weren’t getting along, notably Drexler and Barkley, who told the Rockets that next year, it was either Drexler or him.

Drexler having done everyone a favor by finding gainful employment on the sideline of his alma mater, Barkley is free to return.

He’s all but free in another sense, agreeing to take $1 million to create enough cap room for Pippen’s $10.6-million starting salary. It’s interesting, because in a career that might have been spent on sodium pentathol, Barkley has denounced fans, writers, referees, coaches, league officials and his own authorized biographer, but, although relatively underpaid through the ‘90s, has said nary a word about money.

Reassuring him now is the report the Rockets will make it up to him next season with a $14-million going-away present. Not that the signing was routine.

The day before, negotiations stalled when the Rockets couldn’t reach Barkley. He was playing Bermuda Dunes and, apparently, turned off his cell phone on the back nine.

The next day, the team flew in a messenger with a contract, which Barkley signed on the 10th tee at Tamarisk, while providing a running commentary for his foursome, which included Jordan, and the gallery.

“I was just telling these guys how there’s going to be three more titles with Pippen in Houston,” Jordan said.

“I don’t have three years left in this body,” Barkley said. “I don’t even know if I have three months left.”

Three months is almost exactly the NBA season that Tomjanovich has to nurse his old roster through, 50 games in 90 nights, including one stretch of eight in 10, including this memorable interlude:

Feb. 16--Phoenix.

Feb. 17--at Minnesota.

Feb. 18--at New Jersey.

What’s a coach to do?

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” Tomjanovich says.

Barkley actually had other offers. Atlanta wanted him. Gary Payton and Vin Baker met him in Las Vegas for some Seattle sweet talk.

Barkley decided finally he was happy where he was, announcing he was coming back as much for Tomjanovich as anything else.

It’s easy to see why. In an age in which coaches are Princes of Commerce, with $5-million salaries, $50,000 speaking fees and books on management philosophy, Tomjanovich remains comfortable as worn jeans, Old NBA to his blue-collar core.

The Rocket miracles were his miracles. The Drexler trade was his deal. The nice-guy assistant who sat there so unobtrusively under Bill Fitch and Del Harris is now a folk hero in Houston, where there are billboards explaining “Rudy Uses PDQ to Get Onto the Internet.”

He makes $4.5 million a year, but if it has changed him, it hasn’t changed him much.

Old NBA coaches like veterans. Tomjanovich has been lucky, he has always been able to find good ones. Whatever problems the Rockets encounter, the new toast of this swaggering Texas city, where they once thought a basketball was a football without pointed ends, has kept hope alive another season.

“The thing is, we’ve been very fortunate,” Tomjanovich says. “Chicago’s been fortunate, we’ve been fortunate to win championships [the Bulls’ six and the Rockets’ two account for the last eight].

“If you have that chance--you know, some people never get it. And with the veteran guys we had, if we add a player to it and we have a chance, you’ve got to go after it.

“I mean, it just doesn’t happen. There’s some great players and great coaches that haven’t even tasted it, haven’t been close.”

They’re back. They’re still close. They can still taste it.