On court and off, Payton’s gusto is back
Far from Seattle gloom, L.A.'s a welcome change
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GP’s still a kick to watch.
LOS ANGELES – Ninety minutes to tipoff, and Gary Payton is moving like a hummingbird in the Lakers locker room.
He moves from spot to spot, sticking his nose in while never quite staying stationary.
To the training room, where Shaquille O’Neal is on a table, Payton walks in, chirping questions only muffled by the closed door. Observers should know by now Payton’s never entirely muted.
Then to the lounge off to the side of the locker room, where Payton becomes the latest voice – and by far the loudest – to lob abuse at Devean George after George’s home-state Minnesota Vikings fell from the NFL playoffs on the final play of their season.
Chatter trails behind, like the wake of a boat. It’s the patter of Payton’s happiness in Los Angeles.
**“(Shoot), I’m winning,” he said. "I don’t have to do as much. I don’t have to pound my body. I’m having fun. I’m playing the way I want to play.
“It has been a joyful thing.”**
His pregame circuit turns to the court, where Jannero Pargo and Jamal Sampson are the only other Lakers warming up when Payton takes the floor, a nine-time All-Star taking practice shots alongside the team’s injured-list stowaways and practice fodder. It has been years since Payton was seen on the court this early before a home game in Seattle. On this Sunday, Payton even practices some free throws, in part to test his injured thumb.
It’s an energy, an enthusiasm that seemed to be missing in Payton’s final season in Seattle.
Not missing from the games, mind you. This is a two-time Olympian who hasn’t averaged fewer than 19 points in a game in nine years. He isn’t rediscovering a zeal for the game; he never lost it in the first place. It’s his zest in the locker room that has returned.
In his final season in Seattle, Payton was more likely to be alone in the whirlpool before a game than talking with teammates. That’s an isolation play no one wants to run. He was the oldest player on a team that had set its goal to get younger. He was a player whose competitive fire and fury burned bright enough to leave scorched-earth rings of alienation at times.
It added up to pretty frequent speculation about his future.
“It was really getting to be a pain in the (butt) for the last two years,” Payton said. "You’re always hearing stuff in the paper. … When it wears onto you like that, you just start saying, ‘Let’s just get out of here and just start over and start anew.’ "
In 1996, he was the league’s defensive player of the year and the No. 2 scorer for the Sonics when they reached the NBA Finals. That summer he re-signed with Seattle – seven years, $85 million. Three years later, he was the only player left from the team that made the finals. That transition game took a toll on Payton like no fast break ever could.
“Every year you come with a new group of guys,” Payton said. "You’re adding like five or six to the group that you’ve got to adjust to. It was hard. We didn’t ever have a team that we stayed with after the '97 season. It was like, ‘OK, what five guys are we going to have again now with the new group?’ "
In Los Angeles, Payton has signed a two-year, $10 million deal to be part of the Lakers’ Quad Squad, a nickname bestowed by J.A. Adande of the Los Angeles Times. They have four players likely to be Hall of Famers on the roster and also have the best record in the league. Their path to a league title is not a question of talent but of teamwork between four alpha-male personalities.
Payton is the point guard, averaging 13.8 points, but that’s deceiving. He’s in a new role: His primary job in the offense is pushing the ball up the floor. He looks as fast as ever, his scoring knack near the basket still uncanny for a 6-foot-4 guard who plays below the rim.
“He’s(Payton) really the engine that kind of drives us,” Lakers coach Phil Jackson said. “He pushes the ball, runs the game, keeps the energy going and (is) the thrust of our offense. That has been real important for us.”
So has his personality. On a team chock full of personalities, one of the smallest players has one of the biggest. Paired with O’Neal, Payton can seem like the yipping Chihuahua bouncing around O’Neal, the league’s biggest bulldog. But Payton has plenty of bite in him.
When O’Neal entered the locker room, he stopped to listen to Payton.
“What are you talking about?” O’Neal asked.
Seattle.
*O’Neal said something that was difficult to understand because he’s really tall and his voice is very low. Maybe it’s just a case of the mumbles. * (:hehe: ) What he said ended with, “how about giving them 60?”
Payton is not difficult to understand. When he talks, there’s never an auditory deficit.
“Who’ll give them 60?” he asked.
“You,” O’Neal said, nodding at his teammate.
“Well, we all know you can’t score in Seattle,” Payton said.
Later, Payton found George inside a room off to the side where he began a harangue that carried well beyond the door. They were verbal uppercuts in a one-sided fight over the end of the NFL season.
“The same thing makes you laugh, will make you cry,” Payton shouted.
Apparently, George offered some sort of protest, because Payton repeated it twice more, each one louder than the previous time.
Payton emerged, smiling.
“Kind of tough on him, G.P.” another reporter said.
Payton smiled.
“We’re just playing,” he said.
Payton just playing. It’s good to see.
