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Leon Powe Rumors

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Leon Powe
Leon Powe
Position: -
Born: 01/22/84
Height: 6-8 / 2.03
Weight:240 lbs. / 108.9 kg.
Earnings: $3,688,078 ($4,684,118*)
Brian Scalabrine: The real story is Leon Powe did not run back on defense. Leon Powe stopped short. He was supposed to run back and Doc blamed Big Baby. So when Doc blamed Big Baby and Big Baby started crying, KG came in to support him. Glen Davis: KG, he made me feel. He was just like, “Man, we go out the fucking game, ya’ll got to seal the game for us. We are depending on y’all to help us get through this.” He made me feel how important every moment was. That’s what that was. I was more upset about the moment of not fulfilling my duty for my teammate. The way he spoke, how passionate he was? It made me tear up. I was mad. Mad at myself and everybody. Brian Scalabrine: The way he acted, the way he talked to people, the respect. He wanted everyone to succeed. He wanted everyone to make the same $500 million that he was making. It’s amazing.
Former Celtics teammate Leon Powe says he remembers hearing “Playoff Rondo” for the first time in 2010, when Powe was playing with the Cleveland Cavaliers against Boston in the Eastern Conference semifinals. “I’m pretty sure Perk started it,” Powe says, “’cause when Rondo was destroying us, Perk kept shouting, ‘Playoff Rondo!'” “Might have been me,” muses Kendrick Perkins, who remains one of Rondo’s closest confidants. “I did call him that a lot, because he has a history of turning it on for the playoffs.
Leon Powe found that out the hard way during his second year playing for Rivers just when he thought he was getting in the coach’s good graces. “There was one lesson that really showed me how to do it,” the Celtics community consultant said before Boston took on Rivers and the Los Angeles Clippers Wednesday at TD Garden. “I messed up a play in practice, which I normally never did, but I messed up a play. And he got mad. I thought it was only one play out of so many. I didn’t take it that serious. But then I didn’t play the next four games. “So I said: ‘Man, what is going on? Doc, what is going on? What did I do?’ And he said: ‘Leon, I am trying to teach you about discipline. When we come here and run offense, I want to make sure you studied and you know the plays. Because when I put you in a situation in a game, we aren’t going to have time to go over it. I am really teaching you a lesson.”
Garnett, forbidden to take the floor by his own coach, had concocted his revenge: He would track the movements of power forward Leon Powe, the player who had replaced him in the lineup. As Powe pivoted, so did Garnett. As Powe leaped to grab a defensive rebound, Garnett launched himself to corral an imaginary ball. As Powe snapped an outlet pass, Garnett mimicked the motion, then sprinted up his slim sliver of sideline real estate as Powe filled the lane on the break. The players were mirror images: one on the court with a full complement of teammates, the other out of bounds, alone. Two men engaged in a bizarre basketball tango. “KG,” Rivers barked, “if you keep doing this, I’m canceling practice for the whole team. That will hurt us.”