Charles Barkley
The Round Mound of Rebound was never in acceptable game shape. But reporting to one Houston training camp 20 pounds overweight didn't prevent him from chastising his teammates for not being serious about challenging for the championship. Also, he only played defense when the spirit moved him — which was very seldom. These days, he complains about not having played with top-flight teammates — left unsaid, however, is the fact that Barkley's self-involved style of play did nothing to compliment whatever talents his teammates did have. Over the course of his career, Barkley's selfishness and total lack of discipline made him a chronic underachiever.
Walt Bellamy
He was lazy, sloppy, soft, selfish, defenseless, and useless in the clutch. The media called him "Big Bells," but his fellow players had another name for him — "Tinker Bell". His career averages of 20.1 points and 13.7 rebounds per game notwithstanding, what's Bellamy doing in the Hall of Fame?
Patrick Ewing
Had he played out of the spotlight in someplace like Orlando or Salt Lake City, Ewing would be remembered as a jump-shooting center who worked hard. Period. With the adulatory New York fans and media filtering their perceptions through the lens of their need to have heroes to celebrate, Ewing was celebrated as being far better than he really was. In truth, he couldn't handle, pass, move laterally, and do anything worthwhile when an important game was on the line. Moreover, his dim apprehension of what the game was all about precluded any thoughts of being unselfish. Except for the early days of the Mets and the Brooklyn Dodgers, New York sports fans rarely hitch their devotion to a loser like Ewing.
George Gervin
Double-G was a great scorer, smooth and virtually unstoppable. And that's all, folks. He couldn't (or didn't) pass, defend, or rebound. Gervin's idea of team basketball was when a teammate passed him the ball. Of necessity, his San Antonio teams played high-octane offense and flat-tire defense. That's why Gervin never played in a championship series.
Connie Hawkins
He could finish in spectacular ways, and he could make both plain and simple passes. Otherwise, he couldn't shoot, rebound, run, or play defense. How bad was the Hawk's defense? The first time he played in Madison Square Garden, the Suns tried to hide Hawkins' atrocious defense by matching him up with Dick Barnett. Too bad Barnett was so insulted by the ploy that he lit up Hawkins for 35 points. Also, nobody ever accused Hawkins of having a passion to play basketball: He once told the Suns that he couldn't play that night because he had a fever. A doctor was summoned, and Hawkins' temperature registered at 98.9. As a result, Hawkins felt justified to sit on the bench in his civvies. Hawkins was all flash and very little substance.
Elvin Hayes
He could do three things — rebound, block shots, and shoot a high percentage on turnaround jumpers from the left box. He couldn't pass, handle, play honest defense, or hit a clutch shot to get into heaven. In addition, he paid no attention to the basketball alphabet of Xs and Os. All he cared about was "me-ball-basket."
Karl Malone
I've been on this guy's case many times before, and for the same reasons. He found various ways to choke in the 1996 Conference finals and in the 1997 and 1998 Finals — missed free throws, damaging turnovers, ill-advised shots, losing gambles on defense, and so on. In addition, his passing skills and his defense were both overblown, and his assist-turnover ration was a horrendous 5:4. There are only two reasons why Malone is deemed to be an elite power-forward — John Stockton, and longevity.
Bob McAdoo
Here's all anyone needs to know about McAdoo's game: When he played against the Celtics, McAdoo was usually defended by Dave Cowens. Now Cowens was a legitimate tough guy who always played with intensity, power, and courage, and whose rough-house tactics on defense would often approach minor felonies. At the start of McAdoo's matchups with Cowens, B-Mac would assume his favorite position on the left box. Perhaps he'd even get a shot off. Perhaps he'd even get fouled. But Cowens would definitely assault him with elbows, knees, hips, forearms, and fists. By the middle of the first quarter, McAdoo would post-up five feet beyond the box. By the end of the fourth quarter, he'd be looking to receive the ball near the 3-point line. Anything to avoid contact. In other words, McAdoo was nothing more than a big, quick, soft, jump-shooter deluxe.
Pete Maravich
A one-man circus who wouldn't throw a pass unless it was behind the back or through the legs or in one ear and out the other. And his completion rate was barely above .500. His ball-hogging made him unpopular with his teammates, but scored big-time with the media. It's no accident that his teams were always pretenders and never contenders. It also says here that Maravich was the worst defender in NBA history.
Gary Payton
G.P. has always been a shoot-first point guard, favoring post-ups, open middles, and high-and-low screens to locate his shots. He was also a confrontational player, demanding perfection form his teammates and his coaches, but never from himself. Payton's reputation for playing outstanding defense gained him All-Defense honors for nine seasons, and a famous nickname, "The Glove." Even so, during the 1996 Finals, the Chicago Bulls set out to prove something that they already knew — that Payton's rep was mostly bogus. In lieu of playing solid contain defense, Payton routinely gambled for steals at every opportunity, and when he failed he put his teammates in jeopardy. The Bulls limited Payton's room to maneuver by posting Michael Jordan, who had little difficulty catching, shooting, driving, and generally having his way against G.P. Payton's game was, and is, less than meets the eye.
David Robinson
This guy was a cream puff. He could come from the weak-side to block shots, but he couldn't guard his own man. He could rebound, but rarely in a crowd. He could score, but only on foul-line jumpers, or only if a defender bought a head fake after he drove his left hand into the middle. He couldn't pass or handle. He couldn't stand his ground in the paint. And, according to one of his ex-coaches, he never worked on his game in the off-season simply because he really didn't like playing basketball. Had he not played alongside of Tim Duncan, The Admiral would have been lost at sea.
Charley Rosen, former CBA coach, author of 12 books about hoops, the current one being A pivotal season — How the 1971-72 L.A. Lakers changed the NBA, is a frequent contributor to FOXSports.com.
All-time underrated NBA players
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Charley Rosen / FOXSports.com
If some over-hyped players have become NBA icons, just as many truly superlative performers have failed to get the credit they deserve. As a partial corrective, here's an alphabetical list of several all-time underrated players.
Rick Barry
Barry's arrogance was always hard for his teammates and the media to deal with. Hey, not even his kids are crazy about him. He was also a self-described basketball gypsy, playing for five teams and two leagues in his 14-year career. But the guy had a Hall-of-Fame game.
Scoring was his forte — he led the NBA in 1966-67 with 35.6 ppg. He was irresistible in an open court and a dead-eye shooter whenever the game slowed down. Passing was another specialty. Nothing fancy, mind you, just simple, direct and invariably right on the money. He was the progenitor of the point-forward and his teams' offense always went through Barry.
If he wasn't an outstanding one-on-one defender, he played excellent team defense — rotating, helping and anticipating — and no one ever played the passing lanes better than he did. In 1974-75, Barry led the NBA with 2.85 steals per game.
Above all, however, Barry always played hard and smart. Blame an off-court, know-it-all persona for his great skills being so neglected.
Joe Dumars
He was a big-time, crunch-time scorer, who could shoot and also power his way to the basket. Forget about Isiah Thomas, Vinnie Johnson or Mark Aguirre — when the Bad Boys desperately needed a score, Chuck Daly routinely called Dumars' number.
His defense was just as reliable— he was named to the NBA All-Defensive First Team in 1989, 1990, 1992 and 1993. Gutsy, scratchy, confrontational defense was his style, and it was Dumars who set the tone for the Pistons' belligerent game plan.
Did the Pistons need a score? A stop? A rebound? A pass? The recovery of a loose ball? Dumars was right there on the spot.
While Zeke took all the bows, it was Dumars who did most of the dirty work.
Hal Greer
Aside from Oscar Robertson, Hal Greer was the strongest backcourtsman of his era. He could drive to the hole with the power and determination of a mini tank. While he didn't posses outstanding range, he rarely missed from 16-18 feet. Twenty-point seasons were commonplace — from 1960-70, he averaged 21.9 ppg for Syracuse and Philadelphia. He could also pass, rebound and play hellacious defense. He proved his crunch-time prowess by posting better numbers (in virtually every category) during his 92-game playoff career. During Philly's championship run in 1967, it was Greer (not Wilt Chamberlain) who led his team in postseason scoring.
When the chips were down, Greer always had a winning hand.
Neil Johnston
He was one of the few players (Bill Sharman and Bob Cousy being two other notables) whose excellence survived into the post-shot-clock era. Injuries curtailed his career, but in his eight seasons, he managed to lead the NBA in scoring twice, in rebounding once and three times in field goal percentage.
They called him "Gabby" because he never spoke much. Instead, Johnston let his one-handers, hook shots and tricky moves to the hoop do the talking. In his prime, he could play the mighty George Mikan on even terms. Johnston was an All-NBA first-teamer (1953-56) and the wheel-horse of Philadelphia's 1956 championship team.
Johnston is another superlative talent lost in the amped-up, existential world of the modern-day NBA.
Jerry Lucas
Lucas was by far the best rebounder who never led the league in his specialty. From 1964-66, for example, Lucas averaged 20.5 per game but was surpassed by Bill Russell and Wilt Chamberlain. (Did any NBA player ever have better hands than Lucas?) With three seasons of more than 20 ppg, Lucas could also score—with hooks and assorted slick moves in the pivot, and also with long-range bombs that even guards envied.
He was a wonderful team-oriented defender, and one of most intelligent players ever. Lucas had been exclusively a power forward throughout his career, but at only 6-foot-8 he was forced to play center for the Knicks (1972-73) when Willis Reed came up lame. When the Knicks won the gold in 1973, Lucas and Dave DeBusschere shot from the perimeter, while Earl Monroe and Walt Frazier posted up. It was topsy-turvy basketball, and it succeeded primarily because of Lucas' toughness and resourcefulness.
Interesting, though, how easily the Memory-Man has been forgotten.
Vern Mikkelsen
The only record Mikkelsen ever set was for fouling out of 127 games during his career. Indeed, it was Mikkelsen who put the power in power forward. He provided the Minneapolis dynasty with aggressive defense, rebounding (four seasons of over 10 per game) and burly inside scoring (14.4 ppg lifetime with a high of 18.7 in 1954-55). Mikkelsen was a winner in every aspect of the game, but his significant contributions to four Lakers championships were obscured by George Mikan's huge shadow.
Sidney Moncrief
This guy did every thing except win a championship. His adhesive defense was proverbial — from 1983-86, he was named to the NBA All-Defensive First Team and in 1983 and 1984 was the Defensive Player of the Year.
Ah, but Sid "The Squid" could also score. Long-distance shooting was not part of his repertoire — he was more of a pull-up shooter whose hops could raise him above virtually all his erstwhile defenders. Moncrief had four seasons in which he averaged at least 20.2 ppg. And in 1983, was given a place on the All-NBA first team.
He could also run, rebound and pass. Moncrief was a jack of all trades and master of most.
Willis Reed
The Captain was justly celebrated for his courage, but his specific skills tend to be glossed over and forgotten. Reed was a reliable and versatile scorer from the high-post, the pivot and along either baseline. Possessed of a soft jumper, and deadly hooks and fadeaways, Reed was the Knicks' fail-safe option on offense.
When he jumped to retrieve an errant shot, even the most hard-nosed opponents stepped away to avoid his burly shoulders and bone-seeking elbows. It's not surprising that Reed also played rock-'em-sock-'em defense. In the Knicks' championship season of 1970, Reed was named the league's MVP and NBA Finals MVP, as well as being named to the All-NBA First Team, and NBA All-Defensive first team.
Why isn't he in the Hall of Fame? Because a hip injury — first suffered in 1967 when the Atlanta Hawks used to play their home games at Georgia Tech on a court directly over a concrete base, and then exacerbated in the 1970 NBA Finals — limited Reed to only seven healthy seasons.
Dennis Rodman
More known by Sports America for wearing a wedding dress in public than his high-level basketball skills, only Dennis Rodman's contemporaries understood his greatness. His ability to rebound was never a secret — he led the league in caroms from 1992-1998.
But whereas most outstanding rebounders have an effective range of three or four body widths in every direction, Rodman was at least an eight-space rebounder. He was the NBA's Defensive Player of the Year in 1992 and 1995, and his penchant for not only stifling an opponent's offense, but also scrambling his psyche, was legendary.
More hidden from public view, however, was Rodman's phenomenal on-court intelligence. While he was never a play-maker, he rarely made mistakes in execution. He could also run like a sprinter and finish with aplomb. Well aware of his blighted jump shot, Rodman happily accepted his off-the-ball role and left the shooting to the shooters.
Sure, he was impulsive and foolish. Yes, he hated to practice and to have a clock determine his whereabouts. Once games began though, no one competed more ferociously. Rodman's abbreviated stint with the Spurs (1993-95) showed how much he was focused on winning. Whenever a running team snatched a defensive rebound, Rodman liked to linger in the backcourt to harass the outlet pass and delay any subsequent fast break. It was a sound and highly effective strategy.
However, in order for Rodman to freelance, David Robinson was forced to temporarily cover the player Rodman normally defended — just for a few ticks of the clock, until the progress of the ball was arrested and Rodman could hustle back. But Robinson refused to make the accommodation because, if the ball was rapidly advanced somehow, he would be guarding a much quicker player who might easily embarrass him.
Rodman was disgusted. His understanding was that Robinson did not want to put himself at risk (albeit a slight one) to better the Spurs' chances of winning. From that point on, Rodman made it clear (mostly by unlacing his sneakers whenever he was taken out of a game) that he no longer wanted to play with a big man who wasn't totally committed to winning.
In the end, Rodman retired with five championship rings. But because most of his labors were accomplished without the ball, he's been widely dismissed as nothing more than a freak.
Honorable mention
Bill Sharman — a great two-way guard.
K.C. Jones — a brilliant defender who habitually disrupted the offensive schemes of the Celtics opponents.
Bill Bradley — a thinking man's player who maximized his minimal physical skills.
Wes Unseld — a picker, rebounder and outlet-passer extraordinaire who was good enough to carry Elvin Hayes to a championship.
Ralph Beard/Alex Groza — basketball geniuses who suffered from their undergraduate mistakes.
Jim McMillian — the unsung hero of the 1972 L.A. Lakers' championship.
Obviously, opinions on players mentioned will vary widely, although it seems that most will approve of the Pete Maravich mention as overrated. The mention of Payton seems kind of out there, as he cites that he was exposed by Jordan in the 1996 Finals, when in fact, he defended Jordan as well as anyone ever did on that stage. What are your thoughts on his selections?
