Drexler Appeases Trade War

Last Valentine’s Day, when Houston traded its only rebounder for a sack of magic beans in the form of Clyde “the Glide” Drexler, you could sense Rockets’ players did not like the deal.

To sense that, you had to be a real insider and be tuned to the subtle undercurrent of feelings and words of the Rockets, as when Mario Elie said, “I don’t like this trade.”

Several of Elie’s teammates chimed in, singing that same tune, until the Rockets sounded like the Temptations.

Expert analysts also weighed in with an overwhelming vote, that the Rockets needed the Glide like the space shuttle needs woodpeckers. Drexler is not known for his board-banging, and besides, he’s 32 years old, clearly over the hill. The trade was some kind of misplaced sentiment on the part of management for a hometown dude. The trade was a joke.

For a while, they were right.

“There was a lot of turmoil on this team at that time,” Elie said Sunday night. “And we were one of the worst rebounding teams in the league anyway, and we trade our only rebounder (Otis Thorpe), and here comes Clyde (a 6-foot-7 shooting guard), and I was wondering how he was going to fit in with our ballclub.”

Now we fast-forward to Sunday night for a quick answer: With 2 minutes left and the Rockets holding a two-point lead over the Orlando Magic in Game 3 of the NBA Finals, Clyde the Glide skied over monolith Shaq O’Neal to snag a high-flying loose ball, wheeled and glided downcourt, through traffic, and beat one Magic defender for a slam dunk. It’s called coast to coast. Few have ever done it like Drexler.

On a team of specialists, Clyde works inside, outside, rebounds, runs, passes and makes the difference between a mediocre team and a team that is about to win a second straight NBA title.

He has, with the possible exception of Hakeem “the Dream” Olajuwon, the most appropriate nickname in the sport. Never a herk or a jerk or a twitch or glitch with the Glide. And when the Rockets isolate Drexler on the left wing, clear out the court and ask him to go one-on-one, your heart goes out to Nick Anderson or whoever is trying to guard him.

“His eyes were starting to light up like a kid in a candy store,” said forward Robert Horry, talking about how Drexler got the Rockets running Sunday simply by taking rebounds and running with ‘em.

The Rockets, to their credit, have seen enough. They are convinced.

They have been convinced since a couple months ago, when Olajuwon was sidelined and Glide took control. Stepped up, as they say.

“Dream was hurt, Glide just went crazy, was scoring 40 points a night,” Elie said. “I said, ‘Shoosh!’ Clyde sold me.”

Strange how logic and cynicism get in the way of a great story. Drexler coming home to Houston, where he played high school and college ball, rejoining college teammate Olajuwon, should have been heartwarming. Instead, the trade cast a pall over a team not exactly tearing up the league anyway.

How did all that turmoil affect Drexler? Uh, he didn’t notice.

“Maybe one or two guys didn’t like (the trade), or were indecisive,” Drexler said Sunday night, “but it was 97 percent positive.”

He is either fibbing or he was misinformed. It was more like 7 percent positive. It was, “Welcome home, Glide, thanks for screwing up our team.”

“Clyde just wanted to fit in,” Elie said. “Clyde’s a class act. He was just happy to come home.”

And he actually made the Rockets and their fans and the critics forget Otis Thorpe. It might be good to remember this axiom: A great player who doesn’t quite fit is better than a pretty good player who does because the great player will find a way to fit in and continue to be great.

Clyde does it by performing the same function on the Rockets that a jockey’s illegal electric prod performs on a race horse - inspires it to a higher energy level.

“You look at Clyde, as old as he is, see him dive on the floor, it makes you look bad,” Horry said. “It makes you think how important basketball is to him, you want to do the same thing he’s doing.”

Or as Elie said, “Because of him, our fast break is working. We see Clyde take off like a jet, we follow. If he sees an opening, he’s gone.”

Over the hill?

“I’ve just done the same things I’ve always done, at the ripe old age of 32,” Drexler said.

Now the thinking among the Rockets is, “Where have you been all our life, Clyde?”

The Rockets won the NBA championship last season without him, but now they’re a better team, and more fun to watch.

And Drexler, the world’s most easygoing human, has won the hearts of his teammates. They know he went to the NBA Finals twice with Portland, and twice got sent home ringless.

“Last year we won it for Dream, he got his,” Elie said. “This year’s for Clyde. I know, deep inside, the guys are really playin’ for him.”

And vice versa.