Rebuilding on the fly: in today's NBA, sustained success is rare��but theories of how to attain it abound

WHY DO SOME COMPANIES make it to the very top--and others don't? Just to remind himself, day after day Detroit Pistons president Joe Dumars carries a book called "From Good to Great" with him at the office. He doesn't need to carry a book called "From Bad to Good". He wrote that book.

How did the hopeless Pistons turn around from lottery-languishers (30-52) to 50-32 Central Division champs in one fell swoop? It took nearly three years of work. Dumars came in, looked around at all the depression around him, and immediately knew that he needed to break up the team.

"More like break it down," Dumars recalls. "So then you can build it back up without the taste of losing, all the ingrained bad habits."

The Pistons were clogged with too many veterans who were still of some value but no longer at the very top of their game due to age and/or injury--and, at the same time, these (on-their-way) downers were carrying lengthy contracts. Thus Detroit did not have enough room under the salary cap to fit a Volkswagen Bug.

Well, hmm, hmm, and double hmm. How to open space? Fortuitously--though obviously no one thought so at the time--super (but not super enough to carry the team by himself) star Grant Hill announced he wanted to go free agent to enjoy warmer weather, more talented teammates, a better shot at the championship, and overall greener pastures.

Not to mention acquire untold amounts of money, of course.

Instead of getting nothing back, through a combination of great vision and perhaps even greater luck--in the NBA, when you have vision, you often create your own luck--Dumars pulled off a Magic-al "sign-and-trade" with Orlando, corralling Ben Wallace and Chucky Atkins for Hill. A pair of undrafted nonentities for a superstar? No one around Detroit was sure whether acquiring these guys was a case of "well, it's better than nothing"--or just nothing.

Wallace was a just-emerging semi-nonentity, a bruising 6'9" power player with no finesse, no "O" (4.8 ppg with the Magic) and pretty decent "D" (8.2 rpg and 1.8 bpg). The smallish, 5'11", 160-pound Atkins was a quick-but-average backup point guard (9.5 ppg and 3.7 apg in 19 mpg) without the trace of an ego. At the time, did Dumars know these guys were going to be two cornerstone-starters in the total turnaround of the franchise?

"I don't think Joe would quite say that," Detroit director of player personnel John Hammond smiles. "But he knew what direction he wanted to move the team--in his own mode when he was a player, based upon fundamentals, hardworking hustle, and defense. And he knew that Chucky--and especially Ben--were those type of players."

Next, Dumars swapped pretty-good hustler Jerome Williams--ironically, a Dumars-type player, but one who was unhappy with his contract--for the Toronto Raptors' equally money-miserable Corliss Williamson. Dumars made the 6'7" swing-forward happy funds-wise--and found a place for him as an off-the-pine exploder role-wise. Williamson, with more varied offensive skills than Williams, responded with a career year in 2000-01 (15.2 ppg) and became the NBA's Sixth Man of the Year--the best player on the league's best bench--in 2001-02.

But in 2000-01 the Pistons were still losers--neither Rome nor Detroit can be built in one day. Then Dumars got a call from Phoenix where a very unhappy Cliff Robinson is playing out the last year of his contract. Since, much like Hill did, he's going to leave with the Suns getting nothing, Dumars--suddenly full of vigor, not to mention cap room--grabs C-Rob for next to nothing (for no-matters Jud Buechler and John Wallace). The 35-year-old Robinson, an all-around 6'9" scorer who plays better D than people realize and has made the playoffs every year of his lengthy NBA life, is given a significant contract and all-around happiness ensues.

But not before Dumars pulls off another significant-yet-subtle trade, exchanging problems with the Sacramento Kings in swapping Mateen Cleaves for Jon Barry. Except the malcontent Barry, after being made delirious by Detroit's cap room-engendered dollars, becomes elated to the tune of a career year as another significant part of the Pistons premier bench (which he christens "The Alternatorz"). Meanwhile Cleaves--one of those "good college player" types--simply can't perform at the NBA level.

Detroit then joins the NBA's "European Revolution" by adding obscure 7'0" center Zeljko Rebraca, who turns out to be quite a load in the paint. And, voila, a 50-win team is created.

But it's a 50-win team with a difference: though it has one superstar in Jerry Stackhouse--who, ironically, is asked to tone down his stuff and become less of a scorer and more of a team player-it's one based on unselfishness, unbelievable hustle, deep depth, and defense. Wallace develops into the league's Defensive Player of the Year to join Williamson as Sixth Man of the Year. The Pistons have the best D, the best bench, and one of the top turnarounds in the history of the NBA.

Did Dumars and coach Rick Carlisle play it this unique (but oh-so-right) way because they needed to maximize the less-than-elite talent available--or because that's the type of ball they really believe in? "I would hope it's a combination of both of those things," Hammond says. "Joe and Rick dared to do it their way. And it's wonderful that that also happens to be the fight way to play true team basketball."

But it's not everybody's way. It can't be. Looking around the league's rebuilders--and there are plenty of them--Dumars, Hammond and the significant number of other executives and insiders we've talked to all agree that each situation is different. Each situation demands its own unique approach. While there are some common features you should concentrate on for sure, there is really no one fight way to rebuild a struggling franchise.

But there is a wrong way: tanking, losing on semi-purpose, lazing your way into the lottery--as so many tabloid ignoramuses all over New York, Cleveland, Denver and other cities urge--is ridiculous, even if the allegedly Magic-al LeBron James is the prize at the end of the rainbow.

All this "LeBron Lottery" talk was pretty tired fight off the bat--and now it's beyond exhausted. And this is why: exactly to avoid even the appearance of this potentially "tanking" situation, the NBA has set up the lottery in such a way that, for all your losing, all you get is a slightly better chance (a few more ping-pong balls) at the top pick in the draft. And even the very worst team only has a 25% shot!

The last time the worst team got Numero Uno was 12 years ago, when the New Jersey Nets ended up with waste product Derrick Coleman. In fact, in 18 lottery years, the worst team has had the first pick only twice--a pathetic 11% of the time.

Fact is, this No. 1 pick stuff is all about luck. In 1992, Orlando got Shaquille O'Neal on the first pick with the third-worst record. The worst team in 1991-92, the Minnesota Timberwolves, had the third pick and ended up with Christian Laettner.

And if that's not shocking enough--getting the Next Michael Jordan instead of an average-at-best NBA player who is a major malcontent to boot--the Shaq-ified Orlando got the No. 1 pick again the following year (choosing Chris Webber and dealing him for Penny Hardaway) with the best record of all the lottery teams (4141). Pulling that off was a less than 1% shot.

So "Losing for LeBron" is nuts. Chances are you won't get him. And what if he gets hurt ... or turns out to be an immature jerk like the almost equally gifted high school phenom Lenny Cooke ... or, instead of Magic Johnson, becomes DerMarr Johnson? And how do you tell your coach and your proudly competitive team of NBA athletes to try not to win for a year or six, anyway? Sure, you can pull a "Kiki Vandeweghe" at Denver and clear the Nuggets' decks in toto for youth. But that still doesn't mean you'll get LeBron. So that's one way--but it's not a guaranteed way.

Just look at Chicago. Still in their post-Jordan trauma after all these years, the Bulls have been rebuilding--and re-rebuilding--seemingly forever. (GM Jerry Krause has even aborted one rebuilding era for another two drafts back by trading 24-year-old double-double artist Elton Brand for the rights to high-schooler Tyson Chandler.)

The result? With expectations for at least the beginning of a comeback toward competitiveness sky-high in the Second City--after drafting Duke's delicious point guard Jay Williams at No. 2 in 2002--Chicago's slow start is the talk of the league. And coach Bill Cartwright has already benched both high-schoolers, Chandler and Eddie Curry. And Williams, too.

With the seemingly solid core of Jalen Rose and free agent forward Donyell Marshall, why aren't the young Bulls playing better? "Because they're 19 and 20 year old kids only in their second year," Hammond says. "Are you kidding me? People have got to be patient Look at what Kevin Garnett, or Kobe, or Tracy McGrady did in their second year in the league."

Not much. The three most successful preps-to-pros of all time were not nearly the players they are now in just their second years. Garnett averaged 17.0 ppg and 8.0 rpg. Kobe was at 15.4 and 3.1. And McGrady, who may be the MVP in this--his sixth--NBA season, was at a modest 9.3 and 5.7.

Problem is, there are no guarantees--some high school supers become McGrady, and most don't. And some college undergrads become Ray Allen or Allen Iverson--and others become Stephon Marbury.

Marbury, one of the greatest pure talents in the league, has remained an ever-egotistical immature clubhouse cancer whose leaving has become the No. 1 key to the rebuilding process at both Minnesota and New Jersey. "Chemistry and personalities on a team are extremely important," Nets president Rod Thorn says. Thorn has engendered another radical rebuild in New Jersey by swapping the spectacular Supersteph for team-first Jason Kidd.

So youth is good (except when it's not so good). Patience is good (until it runs out, the fans stop coming, and the coach and/or GM get fired.) Having a vision and an eye for talent is good (but even Master Builder Dumars blew the 2000 and 2001 drafts by selecting Cleaves and Rodney White).

So, when it comes to rebuilding, nobody's perfect. And there are no general rules.

Why aren't the Los Angeles Clippers winning with purest point Andre Miller finally added to all that young-but-crazy talent? Because several of those talents (Lamar Odom, Corey Maggette, et al.) are injured. "And the rest are playing for their own numbers rather than the team," a West Coast GM says. "Those kids, they're all on the last year of their initial contracts. And they all know [owner Donald] Sterling will never come up with max bucks."

Should the forever-hopeless and always-rebuilding Cleveland Cavaliers and Golden State Warriors just give up and leave the league? "Are you kidding?" Hammond says. "In Dajuan Wagner, Darius Miles, and Picky Davis, the Cars have perhaps the best athletes in the league at the 1, 2, and 3 spots. Watch them start to win games by February. And people will go, `What?'" West Coasters speak with almost the same awe of Golden State's Gilbert Arenas, Jason Richardson, and Antawn Jamison.

The Washington Wizards are in the unique situation of wanting to win now (before Jordan runs out of Air) while trying to rebuild at the same time with a curious combo of youngsters, 'tweeners such as Larry Hughes, and Bryon Russell and Charles Oakley. "It's not working," an Eastern GM says. "I don't know if Michael knows what he's doing. Or maybe it's just about ego."

Maybe. Fact is, the Indiana Pacers are the only team in the league that's managing to rebuild with gifted youngsters--Jermaine O'Neal, Jonathan Bender, Al Harrington, Ron Attest among them--without completely falling off the playoff map. "Having [37 year-old] Reggie Miller playing still at his near-best helps," Hammond says. Yet significantly, even the amazing accomplishment of going 4141 and 4240 while fully preparing for a fine future--the Pacers led the Eastern Conference out of the gate this season--had coach Isiah Thomas in last-chance job-jeopardy as recently as just a few months back.

So can you blame the New York Knicks? The City That Never Sleeps also can't accept losing very well, not even for a couple of seasons. And say what you might about GM Scott Layden's moves--and, remember, he's tied up by long contracts largely not of his own making--the man who was highly successful in Utah did pull off a major coup in June's talent extravaganza. "In trading for Antonio McDyess, we think that we got the best player in the draft," assistant GM Jeff Nix said in June.

And he was right. But McDyess suffered a broken kneecap in the preseason, ruining the Knicks' best plans. Could the likelihood of that injury--or Vince Carter's at Toronto or Odom's in L.A.--be predicted? "Though it's in the same general area where Antonio was operated on last year," Knicks trainer Mike Saunders says, "the doctors will uniformly tell you that, in this particular case, one injury had nothing to do with the other."

Most games, the Knicks have been still extremely competitive. And with McDyess? "I hate to say this but they are a 50-win team," one tabloid columnist, who has been particularly rough on management, says. "They'd be in the playoffs. No doubt."

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