Saturday, July 21, 2001
As sun sets on his career, Mitch goes West again
By Mark Kreidler Special to ESPN.com
And in today's installment of When So-So Careers Happen To Good Players, we present Mitch Richmond, the man once hailed by Michael Jordan as the other best 2-guard in the NBA. Of course, Jordan can talk: He has the six rings.
Mitch Richmond moves to his fourth team still looking for his first ring.
Richmond? He has one more shot, is what he has.
You want to know about the vagaries of sport, check out Richmond's resume. He blasted out of Kansas State University as one of the best college players in the draft, then immediately created a sensation at Golden State as one-third of the "Run T.M.C" kid's club there alongside Tim Hardaway and Chris Mullin. And then, of course, Mitch went to hell.
It was Sacramento, actually, but at the time there wasn't much difference, hoops-wise. The Kings had drafted Billy Owens and come to understand that Owens never would report to them, much less play -- and, quite amazingly, they managed to ship Owens over to the Warriors in exchange for Richmond. A horrified Richmond nearly pulled an Owens himself; instead, he settled for doing a Chris Webber, showing up a trifle late and mightily disgruntled.
It's a long, sordid story from there. Richmond spent most of the prime of his career playing for Sacramento teams that ranged from sub-mediocre (a 39-43 entry that sneaked into the playoffs in 1996) to hideously offensive (pretty much any of Richmond's other seasons with the Kings). He was a remarkably consistent player on a succession of terrible squads. And then, of course, Mitch went to hell again.
It was Washington, this time, in the deal for Webber that helped to elevate the Sacramento franchise to playoff-reliable status. Richmond thus boosted Sacramento twice, once coming and once going. His reward? More nauseating lousiness, to say nothing of injury and diminished effectiveness, as the Wizards sort of shockingly fell apart at the point where they might have appeared to be putting some nice things together.
Richmond has been paid, of course, and he has been an All-Star. It isn't as though his career is a study in tragedy. But it certainly is a powerful reminder that being talented, developing that talent and sustaining elite-level play in the NBA -- all these things together still don't guarantee anything other than a place on a roster somewhere.
And for those reasons, it isn't hard to feel at least a tad hopeful on Richmond's behalf in light of the current developments. Paid off and cut loose by Jordan's retooling Wizards, Richmond has signed with the two-time NBA champion Lakers for what was thought to be the veteran's minimum salary of $1 million.
It's a fair fit for the Lakers, who can gamble the million that the 36-year-old Richmond will stay healthy enough to be a significant addition to their dicombobulated backcourt. It is a decent playing-time option for Richmond, who saw the injury to Derek Fisher, the departure of Tyronne Lue and the history of Ron Harper and concluded there might be some minutes in Phil Jackson's system for a veteran player who knows what he's doing.
And it gives Richmond a very solid final shot at playing on a serious winner. It's remarkable to consider that over the course of his NBA tenure he never has come close to that end -- but there you go, trying to make the story fit the sentiment. If it worked that way, Patrick Ewing wouldn't be doing his coast-to-coast-to-coast thing in search of that NBA championship he's still chasing.
It'll be interesting to see how Richmond's story plays out in L.A. His days as the star are past, and he goes to the Lakers in the pure understanding that he'll play the service-technician role on that roster. The Lakers belong to Shaq; they belong to Kobe. Mitch Richmond, in this instance, goes in strictly as support staff.
Of course, years of being The Man on crummy teams got Richmond no closer to basketball nirvana than he was when he came thundering out of K-State. Some careers are like that. Mitch Richmond, a very good NBA player on the far side of a very underwhelming tenure, gets another try at writing the happy ending.
Mark Kreidler of the Sacramento Bee is a regular contributor to ESPN.com.
