Sorry, Jason, but NBA Is No Place for Kids

Nobody knows what Jason Kapono sees, standing there on wobbly legs, squinting into the horizon at a future too distant to discern.

Nobody knows what this 19-year-old UCLA kid sees as he declares himself eligible to join the NBA men after only one year at a university where players once wanted to stay forever.

I only know what I see.

After spending several years hanging around the NBA’s underage attractions, here’s what I see.

They are the most clueless players in the locker room.

They are as deep as a whirlpool. They are as sophisticated as a ball rack.

With rare exceptions--such as Kobe Bryant--talking to underage NBA players is like talking to one of their very expensive, and very empty, briefcases.

In a college environment, of course, they would not be clueless. They would be kids. Their perceptions would be shared. Their observations would be validated.

But surrounded by far more mature teammates, particularly the veterans who attended at least three years of college, the underage attractions stand out like broccoli in a smile.

And soon, they realize it.

They become embarrassed by their lack of social skills. They grow ashamed of their inability to hang with their teammates.

They become shy. They withdraw into their lockers. They stop smiling.

A few years later, the lucky ones grow up.

Everyone else becomes hardened.

This is what I see.

And I’m not the only one.

“The really young guys are out of their league,” said the Phoenix Suns’ Penny Hardaway, who turned pro seven years ago, after his junior season at Memphis. “This is a whole new world up here, a man’s world. It’s not for them.”

I see other things.

They are also the most clueless players on the court.

This is obvious during the games, when veteran beatings of hotshot kids are as routine as they are legendary.

This is even more obvious afterward, when veteran coaches lash out against the idea of putting their future in the hands of a teenager.

I have pages full of snide rips of snotty-nosed forwards.

The kids read these quotes. Their once-joyous play becomes tentative. Their fun turns to fear.

A few years later, the lucky ones grow up.

Everyone else becomes hardened.

This is what I see.

And I’m not the only one.

“The NBA should not allow players to join the league until they are old enough to do everything that adults can do in this society,” Laker Coach Phil Jackson said. “As minors, they are just not mature enough to play with these guys. They are sometimes a generation removed. It just doesn’t work.”

This column is being written about Kapono, and not about the two other UCLA players who proceeded him into this year’s draft, for several reasons.

The first, of course, is that Kapono still has an exit ramp. If he doesn’t sign with an agent by June 21, he can still back out.

Sources say he already has told friends he is turning pro no matter what the scouts tell him. But until it’s official, there’s always a chance.

Another reason is that, unlike the other two players, everyone thought Kapono was going to be a keeper.

From the moment Jerome Moiso arrived in Westwood, he was planning to play two years and then turn pro.

From the moment the NCAA hounded JaRon Rush about accepting money from his AAU coach this winter, he was also planning to turn pro.

Kapono, younger in body and in spirit than the other two, was going to be different.

“I thought he would be one who stayed all four years,” said Toby Bailey, the former Bruin who plays with the Suns. “I thought he would be the one who breaks all the records.”

Moiso is clearly ready for the NBA. Rush is clearly ready to leave the hypocritical NCAA.

But Kapono?

Well, he shoots three-pointers.

“What else does he do?” Bailey asked, not meanly. “He’s a great player, but I think he still has some stuff to work on, doesn’t he?”

Once upon a time, Bailey was a flashier freshman than Kapono. He helped the Bruins to a national championship. If he had turned pro, he would have been a top-20 pick for sure.

But that was five years ago, when the UCLA environment was more collegial. When all of college basketball was more collegial.

“You know, I never even thought of turning pro,” Bailey said. “All I thought was, let’s win the national title again next year.”

He completed his four years of eligibility, only to be drafted in the second round, and sometimes he wonders about that window that may have closed.

But mostly, he doesn’t.

“I had far more fun in college than I’ve had in the pros, I wouldn’t have traded it for anything,” Bailey said.

Defenders of underage NBA players decry Bailey’s argument as trite.

They are quick to compare NBA kids to prodigal figure skaters and tennis players, and wonder why nobody is criticizing those athletes, and privately wonder if the whole thing isn’t racist.

But that is a bad argument, because young athletes in individual sports travel with their parents or guardians and rarely mix with older athletes outside the arena.

Others also wonder why basketball is criticized more than baseball, where high school kids are routinely signed and shipped to small towns in faraway cities.

That is also a bad comparison, because underage pro baseball players are often on a team full of their peers. It’s called the Rookie League.

The NBA cannot deny the fact that it is the only sport in which boys are put in a daily working and living environment with men.

The NCAA, by allowing freshmen to remain eligible, cannot deny the fact it encourages boys to enter that environment.

And the result?

Well, late next month, Jason Kapono could have an opportunity nobody should question or criticize, that being the chance to get rich doing something he loves.

It is only hoped he doesn’t become poorer in the process.

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Bill Plaschke can be reached at his e-mail address: bill.plaschke@latimes.com.