Trail Post - A Portland Trail Blazers Blog

Tonight, the Blazers face the Oklahoma City Thunder, a team that’s the product of horrible machinations that turned something promising and great in Seattle into something depressing and pitiable, all while breaking the heart of a city in the process. Of course, the same could be said of the career path of Shawn Kemp and his eventual landing in the City of Roses.

Before that landing, though, I have to address the man that he displaced; Brian Grant. When Portland signed him, there were many among us who really didn’t know anything about the man, aside from thinking he was another one of the legendary goggle-wearing Grant brothers (he wasn’t, sadly). Instead, we got a player with his own type of character: grit. Who else could change Portland into a Bob Marley-loving drum circle (aside from the day-time DJs on 94.7)? Grant was the man that every Portland parent wanted their son to be. He worked hard, he tried harder than everyone on the floor, and he cared about his family and the community.

Then there were Brian’s performances in the playoffs. He reached the height of his popularity during a series against the decaying Utah Jazz. The series itself seemed like a battle between the NBA’s past and its bright future. There was the machine-like perfection of John Stockton and the aging toughness of Karl Malone against the wild youngsters Rasheed Wallace, Isiah Rider, and Brian Grant. The clash of the generations went from metaphorical to real when Malone connected with an elbow to Grant’s cheek during a game in Utah. The next game, in Portland, the Rose Garden was filled with fans wearing mock dreadlock headbands and bandages on their cheeks in solidarity with their injured power forward. Of course, Portland won that series before losing in the Western Conference Finals to San Antonio. Oh yeah, Grant also won the NBA’s citizenship award, just because he doesn’t half-ass anything.

The next year, Grant was relegated to the bench as Rasheed Wallace ascended to the starting power forward position for the Blazers. The team was retooled, and they went on what could have been a championship run until the worst collapse in NBA history (something for a later post). This led to one of the defining moves of the Jail Blazer era.

Shawn Kemp was, without a doubt, one of the most freakishly gifted players in the NBA. Images of him dunking with his legs spread out wide, in a geometrically perfect position later stolen by Mercedes-Benz¹ for their logo are the defining ones of basketball in the 90’s. He became the face for basketball in the Pacific Northwest when Clyde Drexler was traded to the Rockets. He was on commercials, on TV shows, and on jerseys and t-shirts on kids in driveways all over Seattle and Portland. It wasn’t just his thunderous jams, either. He had a nose for the ball. He always averaged over ten rebounds per game. He was simply the most athletic person on the floor at any possible time.

However, time became the worst enemy of Shawn Kemp. Those legs stopped having the spring they had before when he was traded to Cleveland. He showed up to camp wildly overweight after the lockout. Still, he posted high numbers, but it was the beginning of the end. His numbers slid the next season in Cleveland, and Cavaliers wanted a way out. But honestly, who would be stupid and sentimental enough to take the fat washed-up version of Shawn Kemp?

Enter Bob Whitsitt. Trader Bob, who drafted Shawn in Seattle, had a brilliant idea. Instead of keeping the team that almost made it to the finals together, with a few little tweaks, he decided to blow it up. Instead of keeping the fan-favorite family man who strangely owned a statue of Ziggy Marley, he decided to trade for the fat man with an army of illegitimate kids². Anyone with two brain cells to rub together could tell this was going to turn out badly.

Kemp was a disaster with the Blazers. His scoring was barely a third of what it was in Cleveland. Strangely, his weight was 33% more than what it was in Cleveland. He looked like a sluggish shadow of that great player he was a few miles up north. The season, unfortunately for Kemp, ended prematurely as he entered rehab for cocaine and alcohol addiction. He also became the first man in history to gain weight while addicted to cocaine.

On the other end of the country, in Miami, Brian Grant was putting up the numbers he put up in Portland when starting ahead of Rasheed Wallace. He even got the big contract to match from Pat Riley. Eventually, though, he was dealt to the Lakers in the Shaquille O’Neal traded that eventually netted the Heat their first championship (with a little help from the refs). Grant’s mounting injuries and age eventually forced his retirement in 2006.

There have been some measures of happy endings for both players, though. Kemp got his issues and his weight under control as he worked out for NBA teams throughout the middle of the decade. He was named to the Sonics’ 40th anniversary team to great cheers from the Seattle faithful. Even little Kemps are finding their ways into the basketball world. His son is now a forward for the University of Alabama. However, his attempts at a comeback in Italy stalled when Hurricane Ike hit his house. Still, Shawn’s at work, trying to get back in shape for a few more professional games. He made a load of bad decisions in his career, but he kept moving forward, taking his lumps and worse. Not many could even try to recover from what Shawn Kemp went through; Kemp, though, persevered with an admirably fierce determination.

Grant has since continued to be awesome. He was last seen on Portland television screens before this season giving some preseason analysis on the team. It was a fitting mirror to when he left.

I can imagine someone waking up from a coma induced by that horrible collapse in Game 7 and flipping on the television and seeing Grant on the screen talking about how great this team is and what good people they are. The coma patient would probably be dismayed to see Grant in a suit instead of a jersey, but would be happy to know the quality of the team’s character didn’t change a bit. “What happened to basketball around here while I was out?” he’d ask. “Uh…” his family would stammer in unison. “Nothing at all! Things have been fine.” I mean, who would want to put this dude back into a coma by mentioning the Bonzi Wells? God forbid what would happen if they mentioned the Sonics’ move to Oklahoma City, too.

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²If afforded the opportunity and the DeLorean, Kemp would probably travel back in time and sire himself, creating one of the most awesome time traveling paradoxes ever.

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