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From fad to fade
by Tim O'Sullivan / October 8, 2002

When Memphis' Jason Williams first appeared on the NBA scene in 1998, he was all the rage. The Ferrari-flashy, bad boy point guard from Jerry West's West Virginia was one of the league's biggest draws. Scandal had followed him from his home state to the University of Florida and then onto the NBA where the Sacramento Kings made him a surprise top 10 pick, and everyone knows how good scandal and surprise are for ratings. Fans wanted to see just how bad and just how flashy this kid was. Was he is as spectacular, and controversial, as his high school teammate, Randy Moss, the NFL's answer to the Human Highlight Film? How many sensational plays, and blunders, could he make in just one game? Quickly dubbed "White Chocolate," you couldn't watch the NBA highlights without seeing Williams.

Like most fads, Williams has faded. That's what happens when you're all style and no substance, and you get traded for a better point guard, and you get shipped to Memphis. After the shocking summer of the Nets' Jayson
Williams and the steady demise of White Chocolate, Jason Williams from Duke, the top pick in last year's draft, the can't-miss kid, doesn't even want to be Jason Williams anymore. He is now officially Jay Williams.

When the league got its first taste of White Chocolate, it was delicious. The daring, the creativity, the speed, the gunning, it was a thrilling package. Behind-the-back-halfcourt-fast-break-bounce passes and off-balance-three-pointers made you think it was Pete Maravich reincarnated. But after watching enough of those passes end up in the third row, and after witnessing enough of those three-pointers clang off iron, the thrill began to wear thin. Like the dessert, a few bites of White Chocolate were good, but eating too much made you sick.

Williams' popularity began to seriously wane when Kings' coach Rick Adelman decided to keep his loose cannon on the bench in the fourth quarter and play backup point guard Bobby Jackson in his place during crunch time. Not only was it a sure sign that Williams really was more sizzle than steak, but Williams' brooding, pouting reaction quickly put him on the NBA's long list of terminally selfish, conceited players. You began to see as many highlights of Williams on the bench, towel over his head, not paying attention to the game as you did of his spectacular play.

Things got worse in the playoffs for Williams when the Kings, the supposed challengers to the Lakers' NBA throne, were casually swept out of the 2001 playoffs by Los Angeles. Williams' lack of substance was exposed in the postseason when defenses tighten and production is all that matters.

Comparing his career numbers (273 games) with his playoff numbers (18 games) demonstrates Williams' post-season stumbles. Career minutes per game 33.3, playoffs: 27.7; career assists per game 6.7, playoffs 3.1; career steals per game 1.53, playoffs 1.06; career points per game 12.2, playoffs 9.6.

Shortly after the Kings were swept by the Lakers, Williams and Nick Anderson were shipped to Vancouver/Memphis for Mike Bibby and Brent Price. It may not be fair for Williams to be judged against Bibby, but that's how it is. Not only were the two traded for each other, but they came to the NBA in the same draft (Bibby was the second pick, Williams the seventh), they play the same position, and they are listed as being exactly the same height and weight, 6-foot-1, 185 pounds.

While Williams was watching playoff games in the fourth quarter as a member of the Kings, Bibby was owning them. It was Bibby stepping up to the challenge the Lakers, Bibby making prime-time shots on national television, Bibby being hailed as the league's best point guard while Williams was playing for a bad expansion team in a college arena. Bibby was the anti-Williams, worried only about substance and not caring about style,
stepping up in the clutch and not sitting under a towel.

Williams actually had better numbers than Bibby during the 2001-02 regular season (Williams had 14.8 ppg, 8.0 apg, Bibby 13.7, 5.0), but Bibby did what Williams never could: he led the Kings to the best record in the league and then led them to within one game of the Finals. Compare Bibby's career numbers (294 games) with his playoff numbers (16 games) and the disparity is clear. Bibby's career minutes per game 36.6, playoffs 41.3; career assists per game 5.0, playoffs 8.1; career points per game 14.5, playoffs 20.3.

Believe it or not, I like Williams' game. His flash is exciting, it is good for the league, it is the mix of art and athletics that makes basketball a beautiful sport. But until he learns when it's time to haul with the pickup
truck and when it's time to unleash the Ferrari, being Jason Williams will stay out of style.

Tim O'Sullivan is a staff writer at the Concord (NH) Monitor and a regular contributor to HoopsHype.com

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