Something Is Missing for Horry

That Robert Horry must live half the year away from his wife and their two children is among the inherent irritations of NBA life, part of the straight-up trade for incredible wealth and moderate fame, and he knows that.

Their home stands among other stone-and-brick residences in Houston, not far from the arena there, where he played four seasons and won two NBA championships. He thinks often of returning to Houston to play basketball, to live year-round, to come home from work to find a porch light on and children in their beds.

Horry, the power forward who has done his time on Rasheed Wallace, Chris Webber and Tim Duncan in the Lakers’ 9-0 march in the playoffs, can opt out of his contract at the end of the season. He is due $5.3 million next season and $5.3 million the season after, and the club holds an option for the 2003-04 season.

With no sure deals out there for a player soon to be 31 years old, and with achy knees and back, Horry has not yet chosen to stay. Or leave.

“It’s going to boil down to a 7-year-old and a 2-year-old,” he said Wednesday afternoon. “It’s a huge life decision. It’s going to be a major, major, major thing in my life at that moment. It’s going to be, ‘Am I going to go this way, this way or that way? To the top, to the side, or to the bottom?’ ”

Cameron is 2. Already he is a Laker fan, and yells as much into the phone when Robert calls.

Ashlyn is 7. She too appears to love the Lakers. She was born without part of her first chromosome, according to Horry. She cannot walk or eat without help, and she cannot speak. Horry couldn’t recall the name of her condition, for the name is inconsequential to him.

“It’s some long name,” he said.

When he talks to Ashlyn on the phone, she holds the receiver to her ear. He tells her about his day, and about the Lakers, and how he loves her. And then he speaks to Keba, his wife, who describes Ashlyn’s expressions when he spoke to her.

If that sounds sad, it is, Horry said, “some days.”

“But you get used to it,” he said. “Well, you tell yourself that, anyway.”

That is why Houston is important, and why Los Angeles can be difficult, even on the league’s glamour team on potentially the greatest playoff tear in NBA history. He is not just another father missing his children, but a father who feels necessary and sometimes out of touch, away from the doctors who have treated his child since birth.

They can’t tell him what tomorrow, or even years of tomorrows, will bring for Ashlyn. What he knows is he would like to be involved, and what he wonders is how it all fits with his night job.

“It’s basically a day-to-day process,” he said. “It’s all about how well she adapts.”

With that question never far, Horry had a so-so regular season, averaging 5.2 points and 3.7 rebounds in 20 minutes. Though he appears nearly elastic in his rangy, 6-foot-10 frame, Horry had his usual knee soreness. During an in-season conversation he admitted, “I fade,” meaning he disappears for parts of games, not scoring or rebounding, but participating from a distance, a small forward in a big forward’s body.

Along came the playoffs, and the most critical defensive assignments, and Horry came to life. Playing behind Horace Grant, and recently playing the majority of the power-forward minutes, Horry averaged 7.0 points, 7.0 rebounds, 2.0 steals and 2.0 blocks in the first two games of the Western Conference finals against the San Antonio Spurs.

“The only times I fade is when I don’t have to play defense,” he said. “If I’m playing somebody where I’m doing a lot of standing around, gotta box out, that’s the only time I fade. But when I’ve got to guard a tough opponent, my head’s in it, I stay within the game. You’ve got to be focused. I kind of get that Elden Campbell syndrome sometimes. You know? It doesn’t happen as often as it does to Elden, but you know, it happens.

“On this team, you’re not involved in a lot of things, especially on the offensive end. You’re out there sometimes, you’re like, ‘What time is it? How much time is left on the clock?’

“You’d like to stay focused, but when you’re guarding somebody, you know you’ve got to be focused because you don’t want to get embarrassed.”

Duncan scored 40 points in Game 2, but was two for six from the field in the fourth quarter against Horry, who had two steals in the quarter. Horry has given Laker Coach Phil Jackson an alternative to Grant’s muscle, an annoying defensive presence who can be a three-point threat.

“He walks around like Sam Perkins, a little goofy,” Grant said, Perkins being the heavy-lidded Indiana Pacer forward. “I hope he’s not on some type of medication. Robert’s one of those weird cats. If you light that fire beneath him, he’s going to burn for a long time.”

The Lakers figure it’s a playoff thing for Horry.

“Robert’s been through all of this stuff before, so I’m sure the regular season gets pretty draining, pretty boring,” Laker guard Derek Fisher said. “Physically, he’s been challenged to be able to play at a high level. Because of his daughter’s situation, not being able to be with his family for a large part of the season, all of these things come into play with him. So, I think in the postseason he’s able to focus in more into the fact that 15 wins is the goal, and whatever he can do to accomplish that is what he’ll do.”

If it does reach 15, that won’t be the end for Horry, of course. He has to make his decision by the end of June, perhaps without a strong indication one way or the other from the Rockets, who are expected to make a strong run for Webber, a free agent, further complicating it.

“If he decides to opt out and head back toward Texas,” Laker forward Rick Fox said, “it would be hard not to understand.”