Kevin Arnovitz wrote a great piece at TrueHoop on the return of Lamar Odom. Enjoy.
Lamar Odom’s parting from the Los Angeles Clippers in August 2003 was a no-brainer, both financially and personally.
The Clippers had offered Odom a three-year, $24 million contract, but after losing out on Clippers restricted free agent Elton Brand, Pat Riley swooped in. The Heat laid an offer sheet of six years and $65 million at Odom’s feet, and the then-23-year-old curio promptly switched coasts.
For most organizations, losing a talented fourth overall pick after only four seasons would have been devastating, but that wasn’t really the case for the Clippers.
Summer 2003 was morning in ClipperLand.
Earlier that offseason, the team had matched $124 million worth of offer sheets for Brand and Corey Maggette, and brought on Mike Dunleavy to be the new coach. The team still had a stable of other promising youngsters age 23 or younger in Quentin Richardson, Chris Wilcox and Keyon Dooling, and had drafted a big man out of Central Michigan named Chris Kaman.
Out of nowhere, the Clippers looked like a serious NBA organization, and, from the perspective of then-general manager Elgin Baylor, Odom wasn’t a serious person. Baylor described the rationale behind not matching Miami’s offer for Odom as “based on issues of character and other risks involved.” Although Dunleavy would have loved the opportunity to move a player of Odom’s versatility around the chess board, Odom was the most expendable of the Clippers’ young assets.
It didn’t start that way for Odom with the Clippers. He displayed ball skills uncommon for a 20-year-old big man and was the first of the team’s young stars to ignite some buzz around early-’00s Clippers. Odom posted a Player Efficiency Rating of 16.8 and 18.9 respectively in his first two seasons. In February 2002, he, Brand and Darius Miles posed on the cover of SLAM as the Clippers enjoyed a couple of seasons as one of the league’s more likable baby squads. Had League Pass existed 10 years ago, the Clips would have been an attractive candidate to fill out your slate of “Choice” teams, and Odom was a big part of that.
Still, Odom was one of those young players for whom potential soon became a millstone. During his four-year tenure with the Clippers, Odom served two drug suspensions. After two productive seasons out of the gate, his efficiency dropped in his third and fourth seasons with the Clippers (13.7 and 14.6 PER), during which he played a combined 78 games as he battled a series of injuries.
When the Clippers didn’t offer Brand, Maggette and Odom hefty extensions during the 2002 offseason, Brand and Maggette might have stewed quietly, but when the ball was tipped that fall, they killed and maimed for coach Alvin Gentry. In contrast, Odom’s mood grew morose, and his shot selection was confounding. He loafed on defense and often appeared lost when the ball went into Brand on the left block. The injuries played a factor, but Odom’s disengagement was more serious.
When Miami came knocking with the big offer sheet, Odom let it be known publicly that he wanted the Clippers to let him walk. On his way out the door, Odom referred to his time with the Clippers as “basketball hell.”
Nine years is a lifetime in the NBA. Since leaving the Clippers as a callow talent brimming with potential, Odom established himself as the game’s premier multiskilled big man, won two rings with the Los Angeles Lakers, used his celebrity as an adjunct Kardashian to cross over as a star on the shlock-ertainment circuit, consumed heaping amounts of refined sugar before games and, over time, emerged as one of the more interesting personalities in the league.
Odom was devastated in December when he was included in the post-lockout trade that would have sent him from the Lakers to New Orleans. He was so distraught that, when the deal wasn’t consummated, the Lakers felt compelled to send him away to Dallas for nothing rather than deal with the emotional fallout. In Dallas, Odom found another basketball hell, one of his own creation. After a series of incidents, the Mavericks finally told him to take a walk a few weeks before the playoffs. Mark Cuban called it “addition by subtraction.”
Thirteen years after the Clippers made him the cornerstone of their future, Odom returns to them for what will effectively be a nine-month stint. He was acquired by the team Friday in a four-way deal that shipped Mo Williams to Utah, the rights to second-round Clippers draft pick Furkan Aldemir to Houston and some cap relief to Dallas.
In both composition and reputation, the organization looks different than it did in the spring of 2003. Odom will join a team, anchored by Chris Paul and Blake Griffin, that’s instilled a solid culture under Vinny Del Negro. Most of all, after decades of building for an uncertain future, the Clippers’ only measure of success in 2012-13 will be present success.
What can Odom do for the Clippers? Running the numbers to project what he will contribute is an exercise in futility. Odom’s 12th season in the NBA was statistically his best — his 13th the worst. Season No. 14 likely will fall somewhere in between, a precarious balancing act between Odom’s ingenuity and his temperament.
If Odom can revitalize his interest in the game, he can thrive as the Clippers’ first big off the bench. If need be, he can play a handful of minutes at the small forward spot behind Caron Butler and operate as a distributor on a second unit that will need a player or two to keep the ball moving.
Odom can start, sub, pass, slash, score, facilitate and defend — but we knew all that. In fact, the Clippers were the first to learn about Odom’s range of skills. More than a decade later, they hope to finally profit from their original investment.