Friendships outlast trades, free agency

By RON HIGGINS

If fans arrive early enough for a game, it's a part of pro basketball they may not understand.

They might see Memphis forward Bo Outlaw hugging an opposing player, such as Charlotte's Darrell Armstrong, an Outlaw teammate from his Orlando Magic days.

Or Grizzlies forward Shane Battier chatting it up with Golden State swingman Mike Dunleavy, a Battier teammate at Duke.

Or Griz guard Earl Watson and New Orleans guard Baron Davis acting like they are best of friends.

And that's because they are, having been roommates at UCLA

Long after careers fade, waistlines expand and hairlines recede, it's the relationships and camaraderie that players remember the most about their NBA careers.

There's no rule that says you can't hug your opponent before a game, and then try to strangle him during it.

"It's come down to professionalism," Battier said. "Once the game starts, you want to play well against a friend or an enemy."

Basketball, by its nature, lends itself to establishing friendships easier than the sport of football.

Maybe it's because basketball players don't hide behind facemasks. Maybe it's the fact that football is a physically more violent sport that basically requires a "kill your opponent" approach.

Many pro football coaches hate seeing their players chat pre and postgame with the opposition.

Not so in basketball. Some pregame shootarounds in the NBA have the feel of a fraternity mixer. And in some ways, the NBA is an exclusive fraternity.

Some players establish relationships on a college level that can carry through to the pros, like Watson and Davis, who played together at UCLA.

"Baron is like my brother, like my best friend," Watson said. "When I was 17, I graduated from high school and moved to Los Angeles the summer before I started college.

"I lived with him, his sister and his grandmother. They took me under their wing until school started."

Just because their pro careers took different paths, it didn't end the friendship. It strengthened it.

"We talk all the time," Watson said. "We talk a lot about family. We're supportive of each other. We're from different backgrounds, but we're almost identical. So anytime we get a chance to hook up, we do."

Griz center-forward Stromile Swift keeps tabs on former LSU teammates Jabari Smith (Kings) and Ronald Dupree (Bulls).

"A lot of times, you also become friends with guys you played against in college; you like to hang out with each other," Swift said.

"It's always fun to play guys you played with and against in college. It's like when you're little and you go to the park to play against your cousin or your brother. You want to beat them because you want to go home and have bragging rights."

For Battier, it's keeping track of fellow Duke alums Carlos Boozer (Cavs) and Elton Brand (Clippers). But he's closest to Dunleavy, and usually dines with him at least once when Dunleavy visits Memphis on road trips.

"We don't talk about Duke," Battier said. "We talk about life in general. We talk about wives and girlfriends, dog, all that.

"It's hard for the average fan to distinguish that we are actually normal people away from the court. We have friendships, problems at home, bills to pay and everything that goes with life."

Some NBA players have fond memories of a previous team for which they played, like Kings center Vlade Divac.

Divac played for the Lakers at one time, and now Kings-Lakers is the closest thing to a feisty college rivalry.

"I'm in between," Divac says. "I've got to move to Fresno."

When Divac played for the Hornets before going to the Kings, the Lakers' fans still loved Divac, recalling he was a key player in helping the Lakers reach the 1991 championship series.

"I remember against the Lakers with Charlotte, that was a standing ovation at the Forum," said Divac, who plans to live in Los Angeles after he retires. "The first couple years with Sacramento, too. But when we started building that rivalry, it turned against me."

There are some players, billed as rivals through the media, such as Magic Johnson and Larry Bird, who never become friends until after they both retire.

It seems like LeBron James and Carmelo Anthony, two of the league's most heralded rookies since Johnson and Bird, are trying to break that mold, having been thrown together by their youth, their hype and their talent.

At this year's All-Star weekend in Los Angeles, they enjoyed each other's company, loved playing on the rookie team with each other and always sat on the bench together when they weren't playing.

"Carmelo is like a brother to me," James said. "We don't get to see each other that much because he's in the west and I'm in the east.

"But when we do get together, it's like a brother you haven't seen for a long time. We both have a lot of the same traits, which is why we interact so well."

Yet when the game starts...

"When you shake hands before the start of the game, the friendship ends for awhile," Battier said.