The Euro Diaries: The road less traveled
by chad

MENORCA, SPAIN -- Would you like a little insight into why some NBA teams still aren't getting out to see the top prospects in the world?

The trials of international scouting are many. Schedules and starting times are very flexible. So are the actual locations of games. Coaches often prefer to hide their young prospects if word gets out that NBA scouts or journalists are coming to see a young kid play. If you are lucky enough to see one in a game, there's no telling if he'll actually touch the ball, or if you'll ever get to see him again.

It's tough to draft a kid in the lottery who you've seen only once in person and a couple of times on grainy video.

Pistons international scouting guru Tony Ronzone claims patience and persistence are the keys.

"If you're going to survive in this job, you have to be able to go with the flow," Ronzone said. "Scouting overseas is a lot more work than showing up at a college basketball game, but there's a better chance you come up with something special that no one else saw before. That's what excites me about the job."

Wednesday gave me a little taste of all the frustrations a scout can go through and condensed them down into one pretty intense 24-hour period. The goal was to spend the afternoon with 18-year-old prospect Maciej Lampe, a 7-foot small forward from Poland, somewhere in Spain. The road to meet him was anything but usual.

6 a.m. (Midnight ET), Varese, Italy: I wake up after two hours of sleep to finish a story, grab a shower and bolt the hotel in time to catch a cab to the airport in Milan.

7:15 a.m. (1:15 a.m. ET), Milan, Italy: A 55-Euro cab ride to Milan is just the beginning. I've already had to change my itinerary twice since arriving, and I end up standing in line for an hour at the Alitalia Airlines desk trying to get my tickets changed with my fake Italian accent.

8:30 a.m. (2:30 a.m. ET), still in Milan: The tickets are taken care of, I've passed through security (I could be carrying an Uzi for all they know ... the checkpoint is a joke) and I finally arrive at my gate only to find that my flight has been delayed.

10 a.m. (4 a.m. ET), yep ... still Milan: The plane finally pulls away from the gate. I try to take a quick nap, but I'm sitting next to the lady with the screaming 4-year-old lap child. Apparently, every plane in Europe is required to have at least one.

10:25 a.m. (4:25 a.m. ET), somewhere over Italy: I believe I just saw the screaming lap kid rotate his head 360 degrees, twice, and shriek, "We're all going to hell" in Italian.

12:15 p.m. (6:15 a.m. ET), Madrid, Spain: Finally we arrive in Madrid. Now I have to go to the Iberia Airlines desk and change my next ticket. I was supposed to spend the day in Madrid, but Lampe's team had a change in its playoff schedule and was on its way to the island of Mallorca, or so I thought. After another hour figuring out how to change tickets, I'm off to the gate.

1:25 p.m (7:25 a.m. ET), Madrid: I get a call from Ronzone. He's stuck in Riga, Latvia.

While in Latvia, Ronzone and scouts from the Hawks and Heat checked out point guard prospect Kristaps Valters, a 22-year-old slick-shooting point guard who has impressed teams this year with his quickness and leadership. At 6-foot-3, he's an ideal size for a point guard. He scored 27 points that night, and Ronzone begins wondering aloud whether he could be this year's Milos Vujanic, a draft eligible sleeper who is coming into his own just a little late.

Apparently the ticket counters in Latvia are a little less sophisticated (go figure), and he's unable to change his ticket. He's stuck in Latvia until Thursday. I guess things could be worse.

1:30 p.m. (7:30 a.m. ET), Madrid: I realize things are worse. Ronzone had been taking care of all our contacts in Mallorca. I don't have a press credential, hotel reservation or the first clue how to find the arena. I start making frantic calls on my cell phone at 99 cents a minute.

1:58 p.m. (7:58 a.m. ET), Madrid: Good news. I finally reach Lampe's roommate, Jaime Peterson. Peterson didn't make the team flight because of an injury, and he and I happen to be on the same flight to Mallorca. The flight boards in two minutes.

2 p.m. (8 a.m. ET), Madrid: Bad news. Peterson wonders if we're on the same flight to Menorca, as well. Huh? Mallorca and Menorca are neighboring islands, and I'm going to the wrong one. There's no time to panic. I board the plane. I'm not alone. Several NBA scouts get caught in the same trap. Mallorca, Menorca. Who can keep that straight?

2:30 p.m. (8:30 a.m. ET), Madrid: We've been sitting on the runway for 30 minutes, and I don't have a clue when we're taking off. Apparently, the planes in Spain use different electrical equipment than U.S. planes, which means I'm not allowed to use my laptop or my cell phone.

3:45 p.m. (9:45 a.m. ET), Palma de Mallorca: We finally arrive on this beautiful island, and I'm off to the Iberia ticket desk again, praying there's a flight from Mallorca to Menorca. After nearly 30 minutes of typing into her computer, the ticket agent confirms there is a flight in two hours. She looks puzzled when she goes through my itinerary and asks, "Do you know where you're going?" "Not really," is my reply. That's I lie. The truth is, I don't have a clue.

4:45 p.m. (10:45 a.m. ET), Palma de Mallorca: While we wait for the next flight, Peterson, a 31-year-old who played at Pittsburgh, fills me in on Lampe. He's been a mentor to the teenager all year and has been helping him work on his post game.

He's also very protective of the kid and is afraid people will try to take advantage of him. He was as shocked as anyone to hear Lampe was putting his name in the draft. Since then, Peterson has been in Lampe's ear every day, telling him he's going to have to make drastic improvements to his game if he wants to be an NBA player.

Over the course of the hour, I learn a great deal about Lampe's ability, and his potential.

5:45 p.m. (11:45 a.m. ET), Palma de Mallorca: The good news is our plane is ready to leave for Menorca. The bad news is our plane isn't much bigger than the remote control variety you can pick up at Radio Shack.

"I don't fly in these type of planes," I say.

"You do now baby," Peterson responds. "We've come this far together, Rain Man, just close your eyes and let the propellers do their work."

5:55 p.m. (11:55 a.m. ET), Palma de Mallorca: I pop a couple of Dramamine and hope for the best.

By now I've nearly memorized the airplane emergency procedures in Italian, Spanish and English. If I ever become a flight attendant, I'm going to have a big head start.

6:35 p.m. (12:35 p.m. ET), Menorca: Our plane touches down in Menorca, which is great. I still have no idea where I'm supposed to stay or how I'm supposed to get to the game.

7 p.m. (1 p.m. ET), Menorca: I tell my cab driver to take me to the hotel where the players are staying.

7:10 p.m. (1:10 p.m. ET), Menorca: I arrive at the Agamenon Hotel. After a little persuasion, I get a room with a gorgeous view of the Menorca coastline. By now I have 16 voicemails, mostly from NBA teams curious about Pavel Podkolzin, whom I saw Monday. Several GMs work on the assumption, partly correct, that I can't write everything I know. They assume this because they are among those who give me that sort of information. In Pavel's case, they want to know about the ankle, the agent, the teams interested and why he won't work out for anyone.

Minutes later I get a call from Podkolzin's agent. He's curious to hear how the Pavel story was received, which NBA teams have called and what kinds of questions they're asking.

This goes on for about an hour. For the first time, I find out who won the playoff games the night before, that my favorite "Trader Bob" is resigning (FYI, the early word is former Hawks GM Pete Babcock is a strong candidate for the job ... as predicted last month). Then I get the news from a Wizards scout that Michael Jordan got the boot in Washington. Wow! I knew it was heading for a break-up, but for owner Abe Pollin to take the offensive and cut Jordan loose after he played two years on the cheap was pretty dastardly.

The Wizards aren't going to get any better until Pollin follows him right out the door. Still, Jordan must have burnt some serious bridges to use up all that goodwill he received when he first put on a Wizards uniform. I'd be shocked if he doesn't show up in Charlotte. Unlike in Washington, Jordan is willing to make Charlotte his home. There's no guarantee Jordan won't be doing most of his business from his golf cart, but hey, at least he'll show up for a few games.

lampe sounds great... but pavel won't work out for any teams? fishy

So did Shawn Bradley.

The other reason players don't work out is if they have guarantees that they are going to be picked by a team they want, e.g. Kendrick Brown, celtics. That was such a horrible draft year for them - Joe Johnson, Joe Forte, Kedrick Brown - none of which is anybody.