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Orlando star will be missed
© St. Petersburg Times ORLANDO -- Misfortune has found Grant Hill again, and for that, you cannot help but feel sorrow. For him, for the Magic, for the NBA. And if you take the time to think about it, maybe for yourself, too. Hill has dropped out of sight since the announcement last week that another season was ending prematurely because of ankle surgery, and who could blame him? The operation, his third since the spring of 2000, means he will miss at least 146 of his first 164 games with Orlando. And it furthers a growing fear that his career will end significantly short of its destiny. A half-dozen years ago, he was to be the next Michael Jordan. Now at age 29, he is not even as sound as the current Michael Jordan. The pain belongs to Hill, but the loss is shared by us all. Rarely in sports do you discover a player of uncommon ability matched with unerring decency. We found it in Hill. And we might lose it sooner than we deserve. If the past month has taught us anything about sports, it is that we have created a fertile breeding ground for boors. Take adulation, mix it with riches, fortify it with an obsequious public, and out comes the modern athlete. We saw it in an NFL player in Minnesota who does not believe a paycheck requires labor. We saw it in an NBA player in Portland who implied fans are a lesser breed of human. We saw it in a college basketball coach who believes the world should dance to his tune. Grant Hill was -- is -- blessedly different. A championship college basketball player who cared enough to earn a degree. An NBA All-Star who cares enough to hand back some of the millions he has been given. On a basketball court, he was the athlete you wished you could be. Off the court, he was the gentleman we all should hope to be. Sitting in his office with reporters two days after Hill's surgery, Orlando coach Doc Rivers was not afraid to say what others have surely thought. "You wish it would have happened to someone else. You wish it would have happened to one of the bad guys," Rivers said. "I think about that every night. Especially when I'm watching one of those guys going up and down the court. I think, 'Why the hell is he healthy?' "Grant is a great guy. He does everything the right way. And he's the one who gets injured two years in a row." The official party line in Orlando is Hill's surgery was a success and he should return next year. The whispers are less encouraging. If the first two operations did not fix the ankle, is it reasonable to expect the third might? And how much spring will remain in his step when he returns as a 30-year-old with a weakened ankle and 18 games of regular-season action in the previous 900 or so days? Hill was an offensive force because he was quick enough to drive to the hoop. He was a defensive force because he was quick enough to guard smaller men. If the ankle is not 100 percent, where does that leave him? And how difficult will it be mentally to go through this process again? "I'll tell you this: If it was somebody with a weaker mind, I don't think they'd ever play again," Rivers said. "Just because of all the (stuff) you have to go through when you're rehabilitating. I think Grant can do it because of his strength of character." His tale is worthy of your sympathy, but he does not deserve your pity. If he never plays another game in the NBA, Hill's life will still be the stuff of envy. He has a degree from Duke, and his name will open any number of industry doors. There also is the little matter of the seven-year, $93-million contract he signed with the Magic. And although the Magic will suffer this season without Hill and future seasons because of salary cap concerns, the franchise is not without options. Insurance will pay a great deal of the $20.4-million Hill gets for the first two years of his contract, and the policy also will cover the rest of his salary if his career is truly over. If there is regret, it is not for what will become of Hill or the Magic or the NBA. All will survive and probably thrive whether he plays again or not. The regret is for what might have been. For the performances we might never see. For the championships that might never be won. The regret is for the examples that might never be set. For the role model who might fade from your memory. It will not be a tragedy if Hill returns to the court somewhat less than what we remember. But it will be a shame if we fail to remember why he was so special in the first place.
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Times columns today John Romano Tampa Uncuffed |
