Newsgroup: it.sport.americani
Titolo: Rodman in L.A.: It's gonna be wild

As we write this, Los Angeles, the painted lady of American cities,
is about to enter a relationship with Dennis Rodman, the painted lady
of professional athletes. It is a contractual conjugality that will
titillate some, bore others, and leave the rest of us wondering
whether the Lakers really have a clue as to what they are getting
into. 
A cryptographer cannot understand the nuances of Dennis Rodman, so
how Jerry Buss, Jerry West, or even Jerry Lewis could, in good
conscience, expect him to be a productive member of their warped
little corner of society is beyond us. 
The Lakers' intent is to find a rebounder, having failed to land Tom
Gugliotta, Charles Oakley, Chris Webber or the like, or anything
resembling a "thug," which is how Shaquille O'Neal affectionately
refers to anyone more suitably equipped to administer cheap shots
than Elden Campbell. 
Far be it for us to question West's impulse to tinker with the best
roster of talent assembled since -- er, the one he assembled back in
the 80's -- but the Lakers need another personality like they need a
boil implant. It is not a team that needs bodies, it is a team that
needs time. And to augment this talent with another body --
particularly one that has spent most of the last decade being scarred
with piercings, tattoos and alcohol by its owner -– is to invite the
most needless form of implosion. 
Rodman is, to use a clinical term, a wingnut. Worse, he is a
self-destructive wingnut who currently finds himself in desperate
financial straits, according to those intrepid enough to spend any
time with him these last few months, and it figures to get worse once
he sobers up and recognizes the menacing absence of a prenuptial. 
We're told that he has spent the last eight months using his body as
a test lab for every libation known to man, and that he continues to
live each day as though it is his last, which in his case may be more
than just a cliché.
Basketball never really mattered to him; it merely gave him an outlet
to sell himself to those vapid enough to buy whatever he was selling.
The money obviously doesn't mean much to him, either, though there
are people close to him who claim that it's running out. 
Say what you want about his former agent, Dwight Manley, a man for
whom the term "unctuous" is often applied: He saved Rodman's career
after it bottomed out in San Antonio, he got him best-selling book
deals, movie deals and wrestling deals, he stayed on top of his
finances, and he made sure Rodman's mother and sisters were provided
for. 
Then came the breakup –- the firing, the resignation, whatever -–
that was inevitable, given Rodman's chronic inability to maintain
anything akin to a relationship. Now, those close to him say he's
worse than ever, which is easy to see. His first act as his own
"agent" was to retire, which meant he literally flushed millions of
dollars away by relinquishing his Bird rights, and it leaves him no
other choice but to play for the veteran's minimum and whatever money
Converse wants to give him. Judging by his lifestyle, it won't be
enough. 
"Now Dennis is on his own and that's a scary thought," one person
close to Rodman told the Chicago Sun Times last week. "His wife
Carmen (Electra) is living in her house and Dennis is living in his
house and still living a lot like a bachelor. It's one weird scene,
and Dennis has been looking thin from drinking and partying."
So you can forget about his actually helping the Lakers because his
entire game was predicated on being in better condition than the poor
souls he outworked every night. This failure is likely to be the
inception of an old pattern of destructive behavior, one that the
Bulls were acutely familiar with: An inability to work leads to more
ambivalence toward his job, more late nights chronicled by the media,
and more distractions for a team that never handled them very well,
given that it would come apart over something as trifling as a Del
Harris-Nick Van Exel spitting contest. And this time, Phil Jackson,
Jack Haley, Chuck Daly, Michael Jordan, or Manley aren't around to
reel him back in. 
The stunning aspect to all this is that the Lakers somehow have
concluded that it will all be different in L.A. Even Derek Harper,
the sagest head we know in the business, said he believes that Rodman
will "shock the world" with his behavior, choosing to overlook the
fact that Rodman's modus operandi is to shock the world with his
misbehavior. 
"I think he realizes the last thing this young team needs is a
distraction," said Harper, who has emerged as the Lakers' leader
despite being on the scene for all of a month. "I'm thinking he's
going to come in and work the norm. I have an unnamed source that
says he's going to come here and be normal. ... I just think he's
sick of being a distraction. I think he wants to come in and do the
right thing. I'm really hoping for that. We have a young team. Any
distraction is going to be a cancer for this team. It's Dennis'
responsibility to stay in line."
Folks throughout Chicago ruptured their abdominal muscles by laughing
uncontrollably when they heard that line last week, and it's easy to
remember why. Their most vivid memory of Rodman remains the
extraordinary events of last June 8, when he went AWOL after the Game
3 victory over Utah. He telephoned an assistant trainer the next day
and told him he wouldn't make it back in time for practice, that he
was busy. The trainer handed the phone to the boss, and the entire
conversation went like this: 
Jackson: "What should I tell people?"
Rodman: (Click).
That was the night Rodman was found in Auburn Hills, wrestling with
Hollywood Hogan on TV. 
Jackson was conciliatory: "The focus should be that Dennis is unique,
that he may be –- in some sense –- handicapped, and finding an
occupation here in which he is doing well," he said. "Rather than
make him look like dysfunctional, Dennis has functioned as well as he
can."
Angelinos are free spirits by stereotype and liberal by nature, and
they believe they can handle another personality. If the Lakers
consider things such as head-butting referees, kicking photographers,
cursing Mormons, and mysterious disappearances forms of functional
behavior, they should get along just fine. 

As we write this, Los Angeles, [snip]
    firmato: Dave D'Alessandro.
    Diamo a Cesare cio' che e' di Cesare.
   ------------------
  Mersault's quote of the week:
 It's good to be hated. When you're hated,
      you're respected. Remember that.
                                 - Shaquille O'Neal

    Diamo a Cesare cio' che e' di Cesare.
Assolutamente vero.Andavo un pò di fretta e non ho citato nè
provenienza nè autore dell'articolo.
Chiedo scusa all'interessato