How to Be a Citizen of the NBA

Before they commence lives of chartered airplanes and luxury hotels, the newest members of the exclusive NBA fraternity must come here for six days of lectures and PowerPoint presentations on everything from how to write a check to how to avoid trouble with the law.

It’s called the NBA Rookie Transition Program. It’s part boarding school and part internment (no phones, no pagers, no visits from family or friends). And it’s mandatory for every new player who enters the league.

“This is going to be long,” Rory Sparrow, the NBA’s senior director of player programs, warned at the first full session Sunday. “It won’t be as much fun as you want it to be. And it won’t be as boring as you think it will be.”

It’s a steady stream of information; some vital, some redundant. Mike Bantom, the NBA’s senior vice president of player development, wishes he’d had some of this advice when he was drafted 21 years ago. He let his agent handle his finances, watched the proceeds from his first contract evaporate, then found himself starting virtually from scratch after four years in the league.

The mistakes and lessons learned by veterans and former players who come back to share their stories are a key component of the program.

They don’t like to use specific names or examples for other people, but there’s one story from this summer that’s impossible to ignore: the Kobe Bryant sexual-assault charge.

“I’m sure it’ll come up,” Bantom said. “Everybody that’s been in the country has heard about it this summer. We won’t address it any more than usual in our contact.

“We have sessions that deal with those types of issues: gender violence, rape. We give guys information -- what constitutes a crime, how to avoid putting yourself in those situations.

”... One of the points we try to drive home throughout the week is that you’re at a new level of being scrutinized.”

This is the 18th year of the program, which was the first of its kind in pro sports. Players are offered computer training, lessons in how to deal with the media, warnings about drug and alcohol abuse and nutrition tips. Former players such as Harvey Catchings and Tyrone Corbin offer advice on how to make the transition to post-career lives. The statistics say that most of the players here will be out of the league in less than five years.

Unless a rookie is playing overseas (such as Detroit draft pick Carlos Delfino) or is hurt (such as the Clippers’ Chris Kaman, home resting a back injury), he must be here. Yes, that means LeBron James, too. Second-year players who couldn’t attend last year are here now. Any player who doesn’t abide by the regulations and gets kicked out must pay a $10,000 fine and return next year.

The organizers try to make the sessions interactive -- and competitive.

The rookies, who are split into four groups, will be awarded points based on attendance, contributions, leadership and networking. They have to answer a “question of the day” at lunch and dinner. And there’s an ongoing “checkbook challenge,” in which each player must manage an average NBA salary of $4.9 million.

Part of the exercise is to literally teach players how to write checks. The program wants to make sure basic life skills are covered.

“When you’re an athlete and everything has revolved around you from the age of 12, you don’t know how to do that,” said Tom “Satch” Sanders, vice president of player programs. “Everybody knows that. Really? Have you ever dealt with any spoiled kids in the family? Or one with no brothers or sisters? They can be spoiled.

“We’d rather not have the hard knocks of life teach our players. We’d rather help them.”

Bill Russell, the Hall of Fame center who led the Boston Celtics to 11 championships during his 13 years in the league, addressed the rookies in an afternoon session.

As he walked to the podium, the NBA staffers at the back of the room -- the old heads who knew better -- pulled out of their chairs for a standing ovation. The rookies then followed their lead.

“You are the new caretakers,” Russell told the youngsters, who were all born long after his career ended. “I want you to conduct yourselves so that the young folks your age 40 years from now, there will be a place for them to come to.”

He warned them, “Whenever you go into a situation, before you go in, devise an exit strategy. ‘If I do this, how will I get out?’ Look out for yourself.”

And he reminded them that the game they have played since childhood is now a business.

“You will not be paid to play,” Russell said. “You will be paid to win. If a coach realizes you can’t help him win, he has absolutely no use for you.”

Finally, he left them with these words: “I want to say welcome ... and I’m watching to see how you guys take care of our game.”

This time it was the rookies who were the first on their feet to applaud.

Apparently they had learned their initial lesson at the Rookie Transition Program: Respect those who came before you.

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J.A. Adande can be reached at j.a.adande@latimes.com.