Rodman Keeps It Interesting; More Than The Sonics Can Say Worm Endears Bulls Fans, But Gets Under Skin Of Foes

The brim was a huge, floppy job - the kind Linc used to wear on Mod Squad - with slices of paisley and red velvet. He wore two silver hoops in his left ear, one in his right, one in his left nostril.

His T-shirt bore the word “Daddy.” “I’m Daddy,” he explained. “That’s like being somebody’s lover, male or female.”

His pants were rolled up to his quadriceps to leave room for the dual ice packs on his knees, the only part of him that seems to feel the 35 years he’s been building what now is certifiably the most bizarre image in sports.

He stood at center court of KeyArena, surrounded by reporters and photographers, literally having taken over the home floor of the Seattle Sonics, much as he had done the night before as one Seattle player was ejected and another infuriated by his antics.

“It’s getting too much attention,” Seattle coach George Karl complained again. “It’s become like an entertainment thing. But it’s not good for basketball.”

Or maybe just not good for Karl’s team. Dennis Rodman definitely is good for the Chicago Bulls, and the Bulls, up 3-0 in the NBA Finals, are one game away from topping the best regular season in league history with the best postseason. Just how bad for basketball can a man be who is a starter and major contributor to the best team in history?

“When the stakes are high, like they’ve been in the playoffs, he’s even better off than when it’s a regular-season game,” Bulls coach and mystical guru Phil Jackson said.

“I think the diversion tactics that the Sonics have used have not worked. Dennis has remained who he is - that irresistible clown on the court that just continues to bounce back, gets up after getting knocked down, draws a charge and creates havoc on the offensive boards.”

Rodman’s description of his game is disarmingly honest: “I get in your head to make you think about everything but basketball.”

In the championship series, he owns Seattle’s Frank Brickowski. Brick was supposed to be the Sonics thug, the troublemaker who came out, triggered Rodman’s famous temper and got him ejected. Then Brick would retire to his familiar place on the bench and Sonics star Shawn Kemp could do his high-octane thing unimpeded by Rodman’s antics.

Except it’s Brickowski who’s been tossed out of two of the three games of the series. Rodman has yet to be excused.

“You’re playing against him. He’s your adversary. How do you ignore him?” Brickowski asked, almost pleading.

Meantime, Rodman was holding court, the Sonics’ court:

“What do you think this team’s place in history will be?”

“I don’t give a (uh-hmm) about our place in history. I just want to get it over with and get out of Seattle - go to Vegas or Hawaii or someplace.”

“Is this about as much fun as you’ve ever had?”

“Besides, um, … ?” “Has Pearl Jam tried to get you drunk during the series?”

“Nah. We drank sake last night, but that was about it.”

“Were you playing to impress Cindy Crawford (Sunday) night?”

“If you want to say that, OK, I was impressing Cindy Crawford. But it’s not getting me anywhere.”

Rodman’s most amazing feat yet in the Finals - even more impressive than his record-tying 11 offensive boards in Game 2 - was getting Kemp, the Seattle star, to commit his fifth foul in Game 3 while trying to keep Rodman from establishing offensive position on the block.

Why would anyone try to prevent him from establishing position in the post? Rodman doesn’t have one low post move. Not one.

“‘Cause you’re mad at him, you want to hit him,” Karl explained.

“I said, ‘See, you got sucked in, too,”’ Rodman recounted. “I wasn’t getting the ball. No way in (uh-hmm).”

Rodman will talk about anything. So he gets asked about everything.

“Are you getting any new pierces?”

“I want to get another one, but we’re playing.”

“How did your MTV shoot with Cindy Crawford go?”

“We both wore thongs and we both showed each other what we looked like.”

“If you ask the fans of Chicago, he’s really energized our crowd,” Jackson said. “He’s energized our team, I know that. There’s some genuine emotion that Dennis emotes when he’s on the court that’s very warm and endearing to his own fans. To opposing fans and coaches, I’m sure it’s very irritating.”

Rodman, of course, couldn’t care less. He’s managing to keep the Finals interesting, which is more than the Sonics can say.

The ruin of basketball or the battery of the Bulls? Your call. He was off to hang with Eddie Vedder and Pearl Jam.