"Rondo possesses unlimited, freakish athletic talent. He's got a terrific handle, long arms, huge hands and a uniquely creative style. Yet he's not a guy who forces the issue; instead, he prefers to set up teammates.

This is, perhaps, the strangest incongruity of all. Rondo, a person with a well-documented history of interpersonal discord, simply wants to create scoring chances for others."

Abstract Artist

"In a league where players are consumed with the idea of building a brand and creating an image, Rondo stands out for his authenticity. After all, nobody would purposely cultivate the reputation he's built for himself."

- Grant Hughes

Jackie MacMullanESPN Senior Writer

Rajon Rondo is still learning how to run the show in Boston. But he's on the right track. Brian Babineau/NBAE/Getty Images

BOSTON -- Rajon Rondo has his own ideas on how things should go. He was convinced the best way to compensate for the numbing loss of Kevin Garnett in theBoston Celtics' opening playoff game was to attack the Chicago Bulls, to exploit them with his speed and his cunning and his athleticism.

But Rondo didn't count on rookie point guard Derrick Rose upstaging him with his own spectacular arsenal of penetration moves. He never expected Chicago's pick-and-roll sets to shred his team's defense. Fourteen of the final 18 Bulls possessions in Game 1 were a result of that fundamental concept. Rose torched the Celtics for 36 points in Chicago's win and, while Boston failed collectively in executing the proper defensive rotations, Rondo was more specific in placing the blame.

It was on him.

"I don't think I got four hours' sleep after that game," Rondo confessed. "I was really down. I put so much pressure on myself. It took a lot out of me."

Before Game 2, the kid who thought he had all the answers went to coach Doc Rivers searching for guidance. Should he slow down the pace? Should he have gotten Paul Pierce involved earlier? Did he shoot too much? Should he stop reaching?

The questions were valid, borne from a sleepless night of introspection. Most days, Rivers came to practice prepared to knock his point guard, brimming with bravado, down a peg. This time Rivers became concerned Rondo was grappling with too many internal issues to approach Game 2 with a clear head.

"You have the keys to the team," Rivers told him. "Just go out and play."

Just play. It has been a complex process for the 23-year-old guard, who spent a breakout season overshadowed by cerebral veterans with strong opinions and gaudy résumés.

Before Garnett went down with an injured knee, if the World Champion Boston Celtics fell behind in a tight game, KG and Pierce and Ray Allen felt compelled to make things right. As their competitive urges simultaneously kicked in, their thought process tended to lead them to an identical conclusion: Give me the ball.

The problem was only one of them could have it.

It was up to Rondo, their skinny "little brother" with the elastic arms, the break-neck first step and the deadpan expression that belied the passion with which he played the game, to determine who should be awarded the critical shot.

The veterans teased Rondo mercilessly about everything; for going shirtless in practice to show off his pecs, for mimicking facets of their pregame routine, for believing the exclusive Celtics championship nucleus should be the Big Four instead of just three. Yet when the game was on the line, they learned to embrace the notion their livelihood rested in Rondo's oversized palms.

"What they came to realize," said Celtics general manager Danny Ainge recently, "is they need him every bit as much as he needs them."

That is true now more than ever. The Chicago Bulls are Boston's worst nightmare -- a young, athletic team that thrives in transition. Rondo fits that bill; most of the more celebrated Celtics, including their captain, don't. Perhaps that is why, on the eve of Game 3, it is Rondo who leads the team in scoring, rebounding, assists and steals in the series.

Although Ray Allen knocked down the game winner in Game 2, it was Rondo (19 points, 12 rebounds, 16 assists, 5 steals) who forced tempo, choked off Rose's attempts to drive into the paint and delivered the ball to his scorers.

Sometimes during the regular season when Allen gestured for the ball, Rondo stared right through one of the best pure shooters in the game to feed Pierce on the opposite wing because he knew he needed to keep the Truth involved. When Garnett established position in the post and signaled he was open, his arms flailing for emphasis, Rondo blithely glided past him, exploiting the seam in the defense the double-team on KG created.

Those decisions did not make him popular, but they made him respected.

"He earned our trust," Pierce confirmed. "When you think about it, [his job] is probably a little intimidating. I can't imagine being a second- or third-year player and trying to divvy up the ball between three All-Stars."

Doc Rivers helped Rondo prepare for the job by sharing stories of his tour of duty as a 27-year-old point guard with the 1988-89Atlanta Hawks, a team that featured future Hall of Famers Moses Malone andDominique Wilkins and the prolific Reggie Theus. All three were double-figure scorers and none had any qualms about pulling Rivers aside and demanding more touches.

It went on like that for nearly a month. Finally, with the Hawks lined up for a foul shot, each grabbed Doc and whispered, "Get it to me. I'm feeling it."

The next time down the floor, Rivers pointedly glared at all three of them and hoisted a 3-pointer.

"I missed -- but that was beside the point," he explained to Rondo. "My message was clear: 'This is my show.'"

I'm just telling you, Rajon is real ****y. He's got swagger. The good kind.

-- Kendrick Perkins

Rondo has delivered the same edict by paring down his assist-to-turnover ratio (3.15 to 1) and shooting 50.5 percent from the floor in the regular season. Though Rondo weighs just a wisp over 170 pounds, he proved to be both rugged and durable, even after re-aggravating an ankle sprain in Game 2 that left his foot swollen to three times its normal size. Rondo sat out Tuesday's practice, but vowed, "I'm taping it up, and I'm playing."

When the Celtics signed veteran Stephon Marbury, a number of pundits wondered if it was a good idea. Marbury is a strong personality who, so the theory went, could disrupt the psyche of a young player. Rondo's teammates howled when they heard that. Lack of confidence is rarely an issue. Ask Rondo who the quickest player is in the NBA and he doesn't hesitate.

"You mean, besides me?" he said.

"I'm just telling you, Rajon is real ****y," said center Kendrick Perkins. "He's got swagger. The good kind."

That wasn't always true. Two seasons ago, before the banners and the plaudits and applause, when Rondo was in charge of a team that won just 24 games, he'd throw a no-look bullet and when it was dropped out of bounds he'd roll his eyes in exasperation. If he set up a shooter for the open jumper and it clanged off the rim, the shooter was subjected to the Rondo stare, a look steeped in disdain and aggravation.

Rivers hauled his supposed floor leader into his office and asked him, "Do you know your teammates hate playing with you?"

Rondo displayed no emotion, but his coach's comments left him struggling to breathe.

"The point guard has to be the guy that brings energy to the team," Rivers chided him. "You can't be the guy that sucks it away. Your moodiness is affecting us. Change it."

Rondo retreated to his apartment to process Rivers' rebuke.

"It was a reality check," Rondo admitted. "I wasn't positive. If I threw a pass they didn't catch, instead of saying, 'Let's get the next one,' I'd make a face. It wasn't what I said. It was more my body language."

This was not a new refrain. When Rondo signed with Kentucky, coach Tubby Smith salivated over the potential of a "world class athlete" who he believed could clear 7 feet in the high jump or challenge the collegiate record in the 100 meters.

Rondo has his hands full with Derrick Rose. AP Photo/Elise Amendola

Smith's preseason drills included sprinting a series of 200-yard dashes. Rondo developed a habit of running at half speed, then casually turning it up a notch at the finish line.

"His teammates were working so hard, and at the last minute he's blowing past them," Tubby said. "They knew he was better. But when he wouldn't show it every time ..."

The kid wouldn't subscribe to Smith's walk-it-up style of play, so he often highjacked the tempo of the game, pushing his own basketball agenda. He set a school record for steals, but had no perimeter game and no patience for the mistakes of his peers. He was inconsistent; brilliant one day, barely engaged the next, alternately delighting and enraging his teammates.

"If you want them to respect you, you have to make them better," Smith said.

"But coach," Rondo complained, "they keep dropping the ball."

"Rajon," Smith answered, "then figure out a pass they can catch."

Rondo's indifference left Smith commiserating with his assistants late into the night. "We'd ask ourselves, 'How can we get Rajon to go beyond?'" he said.

Soon Ainge and Rivers were posing the same question. It all came too easily for Rondo, and it wasn't until the arrival of the Big Three that he met his athletic match. KG, Pierce and Allen demonstrated the one trait he lacked -- consistency. He dutifully (and silently) monitored their habits. He noticed each of them came to the arena at the same time every game day. Allen had a litany of specific rituals to prepare himself, including a pregame shower.

Rondo identified with some of Allen's compulsive routines. For years, Rondo went to great pains to make sure his feet never touched the ground. That required a towel in front of his locker, flip flops available at all times, especially when walking around a hotel room.

"You won't ever see me barefoot," Rondo said.

The point guard's own pregame routine now includes five showers a day: when he wakes up, after shootaround, after his nap, after he completes his pregame warm-up at the Garden and after the actual game. Before Garnett went down, Rondo also began joining KG on the bench in the pregame huddle, waiting until Rivers declared "Let's go!" before standing up. It was something Garnett had done since he arrived in Boston.

"Then one day I look over and there's Rondo," said Allen. "We laugh about it, but you know what? He's learning, watching all the time. Some guys try to get through this league by the seat of their pants.

"Rajon is not going to be one of those players."

Rondo's new edict is not to allow his routine to hold him hostage. On Dec. 15 against Utah, Rondo found himself mired in one of Boston's notorious traffic jams. He got off one exit earlier than normal to avoid the gridlock but his strategy backfired and he needed a police escort to the Garden. He made it with a couple of minutes to spare, but missed out on his pregame shooting and his customary pregame shower.

"I'm going to play bad," Rondo said to Perkins, as they took the floor.

Two and a half hours later, Rondo walked off with 25 points, 9 assists and 8 rebounds against Deron Williams, one of the top point guards in the league. The Celtics won 100-81.

The single biggest thing with him is getting him to compete night in and night out.

-- Danny Ainge

If only, Ainge and Rivers lament, the kid would demonstrate that focus through 82 games.

"The single biggest thing with him," said Ainge, "is getting him to compete night in and night out."

The adjustments come in spurts. Last season when teams left him open for the perimeter jumper, Rondo took it personally. He was easily baited into pulling up for that 16-footer.

"But he's become much more aware of what his team needs," observed Lakers point guard Derek Fisher. "He's learned that sometimes passing up an open shot is the best thing he can do.

"That's what separated him from other guys this season. He's fine with 8 points and 10 assists or 18 points and 10 assists. That's maturity."

There are still days when Rondo's ideas of what is best are problematic. He is an accomplished rebounder, yet when he barrels in for an offensive rebound against a team like Chicago and doesn't come up with it, that translates into two easy transition points for the Bulls.

"If the ball goes up, I want to get it," Rondo said. "But there's a fine line there."

"He's stubborn," Ainge said. "He doesn't always take direction well. He's very bright and knows what he needs to do to be successful.

"But sometimes he doesn't understand what the team needs to be successful."

Just play. His coach implored his young point guard to follow his gifted instincts. "Just remember to bring your teammates along for the ride," Doc said.

"As long as they can keep up with me," Rondo answered.

He was kidding. Right? Hard to say when the goal of the floor leader of the Boston Celtics is to never let his feet touch the ground.

Jackie MacMullan is a columnist for ESPN.com.

There was another article by Bucher in ESPN on Nov. 2 2009 called "Chemistry Test". Its an insider article and I let mine expire.

The NBA's biggest question this year might be if Rajon Rondo can keep the Celtics from blowing up -- Ric Bucher, ESPN The Magazine
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The NBA's biggest question this year might be if Rajon Rondo can keep the Celtics from blowing up -- Ric Bucher, ESPN The Magazine
by Ric Bucher on 0027-10-03 01:10:00 UTC (original: http://insider.espn.com/nba/insider/news/story?id=4583638)

This article appears in the November 2 issue of ESPN The Magazine.

The notion hit Rajon Rondo like an unseen back pick. He'd suffered accusations before, but knowing them to be false, he'd run past without bothering to argue or defend. After all, if they couldn't get his name right (RAH-zhan), why should they be expected to get anything else?

How teammates felt about him, though, that was different. His first sports memories are of pick-up games in East Louisville, his first motivation the disappointment of the near-teens who had to pick 6-year-old Rajon in a package with older brother William. He'd outgrown all that; at least he thought he had. Then he sat in Doc Rivers' office this past June, the gloom of a failed title defense hanging heavy, as the coach asked: "Do you think your teammates like playing with you?"

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Rondo couldn't imagine any answer other than yes. Maybe teammates didn't like him, a stoic among extroverts, a kid who questioned damn near everything. But not like playing with him? Hadn't he started for a champion in his second season, with a pass-first game criticized for not including enough shots? And last season, hadn't he out-dueled Rookie of the Year Derrick Rose in a tense, seven-game playoff and been voted second-team all-defense?

"I thought so," was all Rondo could muster.

Rivers didn't press. He knew the question would get Rondo thinking, analyzing. Because that's what he does. It's the secret to his success and, maybe, the reason behind Rivers' insinuation. No one is harder on Rondo than Rondo. And when the young playmaker rewound the season, he paused on a few sidelong glances and not-quite-heard whispers. Just like that, the playground ghosts were back. Rondo had chalked up the disappointing season to complacency after a title or capitulation following Kevin Garnett's knee injury. He never imagined that anyone would see him as the problem. "That," he says, "was like a stab in the back."

Off-season trade rumors exiling him to Memphis gave further voice to the ghosts. Even as GM Danny Ainge denied it on local airwaves, he managed to slip in that Rondo "had to grow up." Then the C's opened training camp without offering him a long-term deal, leaving the star to ponder his worth as a restricted free agent next summer.

Funny thing, though: As his value to the team seems depressed, he's being asked to do more for it. Before last season, skeptics couldn't see how the second-year point guard could keep three future Hall of Famers happy. Now, mercurial newcomers Rasheed Wallace and Marquis Daniels will demand attention, and a rehabilitated KG must be reintegrated. It would be tricky even if he weren't wondering who was and wasn't with him. Asked about it, Rondo's already rigid jaw tightens. Then: "We don't have to be best buddies to win a championship."

His trajectory, on paper, is the hoops equivalent of an indie film that becomes a blockbuster. Picked 21st in 2006, Rondo played little as a rook before becoming a starter the following season, defying yearlong doubts to lead the Celtics to their 17th title. Last season, he shot better than 50% and logged five triple-doubles, including three in the playoffs. Dunkin' Donuts, ubiquitous in Boston, is actively using Rondo, not KG or Paul Pierce or Ray Allen, to be its rep. Red Bull too. His Facebook fans -- pushing 60,000 -- number almost twice that of 2008 Finals MVP and fellow career Celtic Pierce.

But while a hit with those who view him from afar, he has a harder time connecting eye-to-eye. At Kentucky, Rondo was rumored to be frustrated by coach Tubby Smith's ball-control system, and when he left after his sophomore year, it was with Coach's blessing. This summer, when he passed on a chance to work out with Team USA, people said it was because he took the late invite as a snub. (Rondo says he had committed to being in the wedding party of best bud and teammate Kendrick Perkins.) And only now is he promising to stop warming up with his laces untied, claiming he was unaware coaches saw it as disrespectful. Whatever the specific realities, his nonconformism can be seen as arrogance, disinterest or both. "He lets you interpret what you want," says brother William. "You want a nod or smile, but he gives you nothing."

That was fine with Rivers the day he sat down his point guard. "I didn't have that meeting for him to talk," the coach says. "He needed to hear about some things."

Things like his late arrival to the first game against the Magic in the conference semis, his body language and loss of focus, his speaking up
at the wrong time -- or not speaking up enough. Still, Rivers is very clear. "This isn't a Rondo issue, it's a young-player-chasing-a-contract, celebrity-and-endorsements issue," he says, "What he can't forget is the basketball chase."

RONDO'S STOCK WITH THE TEAM IS DEPRESSED JUST WHEN THEY'RE ASKING HIM TO DO MORE THAN EVER.

But if that's the only worry, there isn't one. This summer, Rondo made three visits to the Mark Price Shooting Lab outside Atlanta, going double sessions for several days to address the weak link in his arsenal, his jumper. As a bonus, a disdain for the weight room -- he's afraid bulking up will slow him down -- was pounded out of him by fighting through one too many Dwight Howard picks. He has also pledged to stop reaching for back-taps, trying to tip away the ball from dribblers from behind; the all-or-nothing tactic too often leads to opposing points or a foul. Of course, the Celtics have wanted him to concentrate on these deficiencies since he arrived in town. "If you say two plus two is four, he asks why," says William, who lives with Rajon. "Same on the court. He'll say, 'Yes, we ran that play this way and it worked, but who says we can't run it this way and get the same result?'"

If Doc lays a plan for a pick-and-roll D, Rondo thinks it's okay to challenge it. And he'll keep challenging until he likes the answer. "It's a point guard mentality," says Pierce. "They think they're smarter than everyone. Sometimes he outsmarts himself."

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All of it sounds familiar to Doug Bibby, Rondo's Eastern High coach. Bibby says it took the freshman Rondo four days to pick up a gimmicky system that some seniors hadn't mastered after four years. But he well understands the double-edged sword that is Rondo's unshakable faith in knowing what has to be done -- even if it's not what anyone else believes has to be done. "When he feels he sees something," says Bibby, the cousin of Hawks point guard Mike, "the situation can turn into a confrontation."

He's never backed down, never shown weakness. Amber Rondo made sure of that. A divorced, single mother to William, Rajon and sister Dymon, Amber raised her kids in a development near downtown Louisville, College Court, where gunfire is not
uncommon. She always asked for the third shift at the factory so she could shuttle her kids to practice, sleeping in the back of the blue-and-white family van until it was time to return home for dinner, before heading to work. All three were star prep athletes, and all checked in with Amber during games, often before they did with their coach.

When the Rondos were young, there was never any guff from William about dragging Rajon, five years his junior, wherever he went. Amber, though, couldn't order anyone to pass her scrawny kid the ball or stop them from picking on him. "There was no crying," William says. "He learned how to get it done. He got the suck-it-up mentality early." They wouldn't pass him the ball? He stole it. Block his shot? He ran by them. Knock him down? No tears, ever.

He became a master of control very early and today jokes about being OCD, obsessive-compulsive, but there's something to it. As a kid, his Christmas toys were barely unwrapped before he had them lined up on his bed. These days, he knows if someone has been sitting on the couch by the tilt of a pillow. His game-day ritual includes five showers and a precise pretip schedule for brushing his teeth, putting on his socks, peeing and tucking a small jar of Carmex into a sock.

The obsessiveness shows most, though, after
he commits some on-court blunder. "He doesn't want to be bothered,
because he's processing what he did wrong," Bibby says. "By the time you rip him, he's figured it out." Problem is, in the NBA three plays have transpired during the processing, three plays during which Rondo is in his own penalty box and Boston is playing a man down. "You're playing mad," Rivers has told him more than once. "Get past mad. It's killing you, and that's killing us."

Before Game 1 of the Magic series, Rondo left his house outside Boston at his usual time, 5 p.m., for the 35-minute drive to the arena. Rolling his black velvet Bentley onto the highway, he hit a wall of unexpected traffic. "At first I'm thinking, I'm going to miss my routine," he says. "Then it was, I'm going to miss the team meeting." Doc was halfway through his pregame talk when Rondo arrived. His routine in shambles, so too was his first half. He missed his first six shots as the Magic built an 18-point halftime lead. Rivers lit into him at the break, and Rondo nearly finished with a triple-double. But the Celtics lost the game, homecourt advantage and, maybe, the series -- all because Rondo was late.

AFTER THE SEASON, RIVERS TRIED TO GET INTO RONDO'S HEAD. THAT'S BOTH EASIER AND MORE COMPLICATED THAN IT SOUNDS.

It's been months since Rondo and Rivers talked about that game, months since Rondo was asked the question. But what Doc torched still smolders. Rondo needs 15 seconds to find the words for how the question made him feel. "Wasn't good," he says. What he won't say is that he loves being a Celtic, but his house speaks for him. In the Boston suburb of Lincoln, his dream house -- No. 9, of course -- sits at the end of a narrow and winding quarter-mile road that climbs through a thick hillside grove. Inside, there's a three-shot montage of his daughter Ryelle, but beyond that, Celtic Pride is the predominant decor. A painting of the 2008 title celebration hangs on the dining-room side of a dual-facing fireplace. The other side is "the championship room." An enormous photo of the team standing in front of the Roman Coliseum hangs above the mantel. The inscription reads "Ubuntu: A Person Is a Person Because of Other People." There's a title banner and a display case containing his ring. Photos of Rondo -- driving past Kobe, mugging with teammates, staring from the pages of a
magazine -- all reveal the same flat gaze. He's wearing it now, sitting in one of four leather chairs facing the fireplace. "If I part with the Celtics, they'll realize what they passed on," he says. "A team that wants me, that's where I want to be." His words echo off the green shamrocks.

The Celtics' first exhibition game of 2009 is in tiny Hidalgo, Texas, a stone's throw from the Rio Grande. Rondo is close to
awful with four turnovers, which includes one in the backcourt to a Rockets double-team in the first quarter. Rondo sinks into himself, trudging to the last seat on the bench as the team huddles without him.

But Rivers praises how he handled the adversity and, where Rondo once might've replayed each mistake in the locker room, tonight he's perched on the training table, an arm's length from Garnett. Pierce and Allen complete the loose circle. Everyone is leaning back, laughing and joking. Everyone except Rondo. He's leaning forward, all in, the joy of being part of this exclusive club leaking out in the form of a rare smile, not a ghost to be seen.

Ric Bucher is a senior writer at ESPN The Magazine.

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reub wrote:Rondo is actually very similar to Rubio. Pass first, poor shot and defend. The difference is that Rondo has been bad for the past 4 years.

There's one other small difference, not really meaningful. But, Rondo has a CHIP.

Welpee wrote:

meloshouldgo wrote:

reub wrote:Rondo is actually very similar to Rubio. Pass first, poor shot and defend. The difference is that Rondo has been bad for the past 4 years.

There's one other small difference, not really meaningful. But, Rondo has a CHIP.

So does Mario Chalmers. Once again, 2008 was a long time ago.

misterearl wrote:Rondo has a certain toughness and competitive fire that would set the tone for the playing personality. He is different.

When ARod left Texas for the Yankees, someone in the Rangers organization had something interesting to say about Rodriguez.

"Best thing about ARod is he's your teammate. Worst thing about ARod....is he's your teammate"

What made Rondo great are the same things that make him horrible as a player. He has to want it, but no one can make him want it, and when he does want it, he's close to unstoppable. It's what great boxers say, you aren't fighting your opponent, you are really fighting yourself.

Vince Carter said he didn't really learn to play basketball until he went to Dallas, until he went to Rick Carlisle. Guys like Rondo need an entire culture that suppresses him into compliance. Vince Carter could have been one of the very best, I mean top of the line, in NBA history. He'll still be a HOF, but his ceiling was limitless. Sometimes you just can't fix the @sshole in a player. Carter didn't become a more compliant and civilized player until he was basically broke and needed those smaller back of the career contracts.

If Dallas could not fix Rondo, I don't think it's possible.

Here's one bonus for Rondo on a one year deal. Spending about 3-4 weeks with Melo, Melo would waive his NTC, to anywhere. Because Rondo would literally choke Melo out in the locker room for simply not caring at all about the team, the game or anyone else. Some dudes just walk into a room and dominate it with their "weight" With their demeanor, their words, their actions. Rondo is this kind of guy. The rage isn't the problem, it's the lack of focus where that rage goes.

Normally I'd say, just walk from this guy. But given the level of the Knicks dysfunction, maybe the right answer is to double down on crazy.

If Rondo had five dollars and you had five dollars, Rondo would still have more money than you. He's just that kind of guy.