RMR Day Five: RMR Day Five: Happy Dreams by Ron Richards The Jazz lost to the San Antonio Spur’s summer league team at the RMR Friday night, 86-79. That was enough to send the ‘fans’ scurrying to the exits to beat the parking lot rush. Never understood that. If you care enough to spend the money and go to a game, then why would you want to leave before the game is over? I don’t remember seeing anyone leave a movie before the final credits start. Don’t get me started on this, as it’s a sore subject to this sports fanatic. I don’t remember ever leaving a game and listening to the crowd go crazy because my team won after trailing and dramatically winning the game in a crazy, last second barrage of points. That’s because I stay until the very end, because I might see a wonderful play that I’d forever regret not seeing if I left early. It’s the difference between loving the game and loving a winner. Ok, just stepped off my soapbox. Despite the loss that evens the Jazz puppies record at 3-3 for the Revue, there are winners and losers this summer starting with draft night, and ending with the buzzer that signifies the end of the last game of the summer leagues, at least for the six winners who competed in the Rocky Mountain Revue. Let’s start and end with the Utah Jazz. Seems like a reasonable thing to do, as to my rosy colored glasses they were the clear winner, despite the 3-3 record. Besides, no one cares about the other teams except basketball junkies like me. And probably most of you. Utah Jazz. The Jazz fielded what was probably the most talented team in the history of the RMR. That’s not just my opinion, that’s right from several coaches and commentator’s mouths. If they’d have played their best players more, and Deron would have stayed...... But that’s not important. What is important is that once again in two years time the Jazz had a brilliant draft. It showed. The RMR all revue team consisted of two Jazz draftees, Ronnie Brewer and Paul Millsap and some other stiffs. I’ve talked up Ronnie Brewer for the last week, and if you don’t know by now he’s a supremely talented defender with marvelous offensive skills and maturity beyond his years, shame on you. I made a bold prediction that someday he would be an all-star, and I’m sticking to it. To my eyes, he’s not only in the top ten of the draft, he’s in the top five. He is what is referred to as a steal, but he’s not the only one. Steal Number One. Paul Millsap is a freak. No, not that kind of freak. He looks pretty normal, has a mild expression on his face when he’s not snagging a rebound like it’s the Hope Diamond, but in basketball terms......He’s a freak. Not that tall, not that big around, not that imposing at all. It’s just that once in a great while, maybe every ten years or so, there comes into the league someone who thinks every rebound is mine.....And don’t get in my way at your own risk. I wouldn’t. Even if I was 6'9" and 250. There is just something about someone who knows that every rebound is his own, and his alone. He had everyone at the revue who knew anything about basketball agog, for we were seeing the reincarnation of Paul Silas.....Truck Robinson.....Gus Johnson...... Guys who averaged in double figures in rebounds for their entire careers.... Steal number two. Dee Brown. Heck, he’s not as tall as I am, and I’m the same height as John Stockton. I know for a fact that’s true, because I used to see Johnny Stock every week for a while his first year in Salt Lake. Yeah, he’s smaller than I am. That’s where the similarities stop and the differences begin. Well....He’s fast. Really fast. He’s one of the few players I’ve ever seen that didn’t need to use little hesitation steps and jukes to get a defender off his feet while bringing the ball up. Just watch him during the regular season....It’s pretty funny. He just cuts in the afterburners and his defender tries to stay with him, hanging on for dear life, hoping the camera doesn’t catch the expression of fear and embarrassment on his face. Dear Lord, just help me stay with this guy, and I’ll cut out all the loose women, stop drinking and hanging out in strip clubs and pay my alimony. I promise...... Won’t do them any good. He’s doesn’t know quite what the Jazz or any other NBA team need from someone with his speed and Deity-given abilities. Not yet. He’s smart, hard working and a team player. He’ll learn Steal Number Three. ‘Haffa’ Rafael Araujo. I don’t know if I can call Haffa a steal. I do know I wouldn’t call him anything but.....Sir. He walked by me last night in the hallway and the earth shook......My goodness. He’s one of the most physically imposing men I’ve ever seen. He looks like he could rip Pavel Podkolzine’s legs off like a deviant kid torturing grasshoppers. If only he could play basketball...... Well, maybe he can. I was ready to suggest the WWF after the first night, and the Mexican Wrestling League the next, and the next......I wondered if he knew what a basketball was. Then, surprisingly, tauntingly, he showed me and the rest of the RMR something. Hey......This is what a basketball is for. You put it in here? Like this? Oh. Hey....This is fun. Maybe I’ll do it some more. Maybe play a little defense? Like this? Sorry, I didn’t mean to knock you into the stands.....Let me help you up.....Sorry, didn’t mean to break your hand. It’ll be all right in a couple of months. I read in a draft report on Haffa that he had alligator arms. Tyrannosaurus Rex hangers. Maybe the teeth....not the arms. They’re just as long as anyone’s, but when they’re as big around as most people’s legs they just look smaller. He got tats so they’d look smaller, sort of like the Sistine Chapel with all that stuff on the ceiling. And he can run....like a gazelle. He’s worth some time, some effort, and some loving care from the coaches. He’s got good moves and a soft touch for someone so strong. He does need to rebound better, and it would serve him well to watch Paul for a while during practice. He’s not a bust. Not yet. The old man...... Well, that would be CJ Miles, all of nineteen years old and graying already. I know, because I saw the expression on his face. He hadn’t scored every time he touched the ball and played less that perfect defense....and he wasn’t happy. Someone tell him he’s still the youngest guy out there, and should be chasing girls in Texas and letting them catch him. No, he wants to score twenty a game and shut down his man. He’s all business on the court, and very, very soon will be so good it’s scary. He’s just a fraction of a step slow, and almost but not quite strong enough. Give him a year, and he will be scary. Serves the other team right. Every now and then he takes the ball in traffic and then just elevates over everyone......Most of the time now it almost goes in. Give him a year, maybe less, and it will. He’s a supreme talent, and we got him in the second round. Steal Number Four. That’s four steals and an almost bust who’s in reform school. Add them to an already frothing at the mouth team sick of injuries and near playoff experiences, and it has the potential to downright scare you if you stop to think about it. I’d suggest not, because then you might stay awake into the night, dreaming of what was to come. Happy Dreams.