The phone wouldn't ring. It was draft night 2009, and instead of watching the
event unfold with family or throwing a party, Wesley Matthews went all
hermit. He holed himself up in his high school gym and pretended it was just
another sticky summer night in Madison, Wis. But it wasn't. No matter how
many times the Marquette grad and All-Big East second-teamer walked over to
the bleachers and checked his phone, basketball in one hand, sweaty cell in
the palm of his other, the damn thing wouldn't ring. The analog clock mounted
high on the cinder-block wall wasn't helping. Tick-tock, tick-tock,
tick-tock. Made five hours seem like five days.
The NBA draft, like any selection process in pro sports, is an inexact
science. At best, GMs are a group of prophetic soothsayers maniacally poring
over carefully crafted and closely guarded lists to make informed and
infallible decisions. At worst, they're playing a million-dollar game of pin
the tail on the donkey. Guys who shouldn't get drafted do. Guys who should
get drafted don't. "Mistakes are made all the time in the draft," says Chad
Buchanan, director of college scouting for the Trail Blazers. "Wesley's not
getting drafted was a big one."
While the list of undrafted free agents who saw action in the NBA last season
is relatively long -- 70 of 442, or 16% -- their pro tenures are typically
not. (Since the NBA-ABA merger of 1976-77, the average undrafted free agent
has lasted 2.9 years in the league, compared to six years for the drafted.)
Even shorter is the list of undrafted guys who stick around long enough to
carve out solid careers. Ben Wallace, Brad Miller and Udonis Haslem come to
mind. Shorter still is the rundown of those who made a splash as a walk-on
straight out of college and then signed a huge free agent deal before their
second season.
Wesley Matthews isn't just on that list; he is that list.
After latching on with the Jazz out of training camp last season, Matthews
authored arguably the best rookie campaign ever by an undrafted player
straight out of college. Matthews became such an instrumental part of the
Jazz that he started all 10 of Utah's playoff games and spent the majority of
his 37 minutes a night shadowing dudes named Carmelo and Kobe. "To not back
down from those guys tells you a lot about what he's made of," says Buchanan.
"One of the hardest things to have success at as a rookie is being a good
defender. And he was an undrafted rookie. It's extremely rare."
For as long as he'd been bouncing a basketball, Wesley Matthews IV expected
to be drafted. His father, Wesley Matthews III, was a former first-round pick
with the Washington Bullets who spent nine seasons in the NBA. They share a
name and genetics, but not much else. His mother, Pam Moore, says she left
Wesley's dad when their son was 2. Father and son are not close. Moore, a
baller herself, played at Wisconsin. So it probably shouldn't come as a shock
that Matthews was named Mr. Basketball in the Badger State as a senior at
James Madison Memorial High. As a college senior, he averaged 18.3 points,
5.7 rebounds and 2.5 assists for a Marquette squad that won 25 games. At no
point in Matthews' life was the NBA an uncertainty. At no point was not
getting drafted an option. That is, until June 25, 2009. "Nobody grows up
dreaming about being an undrafted free agent or playing in the D-League or
Europe," says Matthews, 23. "That's never the fantasy. I was crushed."
Whenever a guy goes undrafted, there's always a reason. Or reasons, as was
the case with Matthews. Scouts said the 6'5", 220-pound guard didn't shoot as
well as he might. He wasn't overly athletic. He was a second-round talent at
typically Euros who
can be tucked overseas for a couple years at no cost. It didn't matter that
he was a sticky defender. Or that he was smart enough to be recruited by
Stanford. Or that he nailed his predraft interviews. "We ask guys to name as
many people on our team as they can," says Buchanan. "They usually name one
or two. Wesley named damn near our entire roster."
Still, Matthews' phone didn't start buzzing until the 50th pick. That's when
teams start to contact players at the bottom of their lists, bubble guys
they'll invite to play summer league as an undrafted free agent. To a player,
being undrafted is the equivalent of being the seventh man in a game of
three-on-three. But front office execs say it's a blessing in disguise. "Once
it gets into the late second round," says Grizzlies VP Chris Wallace, "you're
better off not being picked. Instead of being owned by whatever team drafts
you, you can sit back, look at the rosters and choose the best fit."
For Matthews, the best fit was Utah. Besides featuring a structured,
system-based offense that was well-suited to his high-IQ game, the Jazz were
looking for a third shooting guard to provide depth behind Kyle Korver and
C.J. Miles. Matthews jumped at the chance to play for the Jazz in the Orlando
Summer League, one of two July sessions that serves as a showcase for the
league's youngest players.
If you're a lottery pick, you come to summer league with a fat contract
looking to improve. If you're an afterthought like Matthews, you come because
of the dream -- and the $113 per diem. Maybe you turn heads and nab a spot at
training camp in September. "But I was playing not to mess up," Matthews
says. "And that's exactly what ended up happening." Those closest to him saw
it. Turnovers, bad shots. He was trying too hard, forcing the issue. "He felt
he had to be like Michael Jordan out there and catch everybody's attention,"
says Lance Young, his agent.
When the listmakers exalt you, when the commish announces your name to the
world, it does wonders for your peace of mind. There's a job. There's
stability. When they shun you, there is neither. Ever since draft day,
nighttime had become Matthews' personal hell. He'd lie awake in bed, staring
at the ceiling until dawn. He'd watch Rush Hour for the umpteenth time in
hopes it would lull him to sleep. Never did. Once in a while, he'd pop a
Tylenol PM just so he could miss sunrise. His mother begged him to see a
doctor. "It was a very trying time," she admits.
The flameout in Orlando didn't help, but it didn't hurt, either, as he had a
preexisting invite from the Kings to attend the Vegas Summer League. This
time he did better. "A whole lot better," Young says. "Best player on the
court at times." Still, when it was over, Matthews spent the next few weeks
back home in Madison, waiting and wondering. He spent three and a half hours
a day commuting to Marquette for workouts. There were more sleepless nights.
"The waiting," he says, "was killing me."
Not that he didn't have options. A Turkish club was offering $120,000,
tax-free. "More money than my family ever had," says Matthews. But it wasn't
the dream. So when the Jazz called offering an audition for the third-string
shooting guard spot, he took it. "My goal was to impress them so much that
they had no choice," he says. "It was all or nothing."
Spencer Heyfron
Why was Portland so anxious to snag Matthews? His reach -- and the 1.8 steals
he averaged in the playoffs -- were two reasons.
Turns out it was all. Thanks to injuries to Miles and Korver before camp even
broke, Matthews started a preseason game in London against the Bulls. He
scored 16 points and hit three of four from three. By luck, timing and
effort, Matthews earned a spot on the team, and the rookie minimum of
$457,588. Then, in the third week of the season, in his first start, he put
up 16 points against the Sixers. A string of 18 more starts followed. By
season's end, Matthews was averaging nearly 10 points a night and he had
started 48 times. In the playoffs he upped his numbers to 13.2 ppg and 1.8
spg, all while taking on opponents' biggest scorers. "He doesn't take bad
shots, he has a tremendous basketball IQ, and he's a tough SOB," says one
Eastern Conference scout. "He just finds a way to make plays. Not drafting
him was a grave mistake."
Luckily for Matthews, and unlike the guys who did get drafted, he wasn't
locked into some piddly multiyear scale wage. And this summer he was on a
high-profile list that included LeBron, D-Wade, Chris Bosh: valued NBA free
agents.
The Jazz told Young that his client was a top priority, just after Carlos
Boozer. Matthews assumed he'd be slotted in the $4 million a year range, nine
times what he made as a rookie. Lottery money. But before the Jazz and Young
started negotiating, the suits in Portland, impressed with Matthews'
postseason effort, faxed Young this offer: Five years, $32 million. Matthews
heard this and said, "Get out of here!"
It was a front-loaded deal worth $10.3 million this season, with 90% to be
paid before training camp. Too rich for Northwest Division rival Utah. This
wasn't just lottery money; it is almost double what 2010's No. 1 overall
pick, John Wall, will make this season. "Nobody thought I'd do anything last
year and look what happened," says Matthews. "It is just surreal."
Amazing. Secure. Comfortable. Those are the words Matthews uses to describe
what it feels like to sign an eight-figure contract. So far, his only impulse
buy has been a $50 Samurai sword that hangs in its sheath below the
wall-mounted flat-screen in his Madison apartment. He plans on buying a house
for his mom and grandmother, a car for each, plus a house and car for
himself. First-time homeowners, all three. Most important, his mother has
gone from three jobs to zero. "Retired her just last week," he says,
gesticulating with his right hand.
He's back in Madison this summer, working out at Memorial High, the same gym
where he spent draft night just a year earlier. As he waves his hand, a
two-inch scar is visible on the underside of his forearm. He earned it during
the postseason, manning up against Kobe. It's a permanent reminder of what he
did to go from unlisted to coveted. It's at the root of why he sleeps easier
these days -- effort = success = security. And it's why, as he spends a hot
and sticky Wisconsin night remembering another hot and sticky Wisconsin
night, he doesn't even notice the clock above his head, going tick-tock,
tick-tock ...best, and that's where teams like to pick "stash guys"typically Euros who can be tucked overseas for a couple years at no cost. It
didn't matter that he was a sticky defender. Or that he was smart enough to
be recruited by Stanford. Or that he nailed his predraft interviews. "We ask
guys to name as many people on our team as they can," says Buchanan. "They
usually name one or two. Wesley named damn near our entire roster."
Still, Matthews' phone didn't start buzzing until the 50th pick. That's when
teams start to contact players at the bottom of their lists, bubble guys
they'll invite to play summer league as an undrafted free agent. To a player,
being undrafted is the equivalent of being the seventh man in a game of
three-on-three. But front office execs say it's a blessing in disguise. "Once
it gets into the late second round," says Grizzlies VP Chris Wallace, "you're
better off not being picked. Instead of being owned by whatever team drafts
you, you can sit back, look at the rosters and choose the best fit."
For Matthews, the best fit was Utah. Besides featuring a structured,
system-based offense that was well-suited to his high-IQ game, the Jazz were
looking for a third shooting guard to provide depth behind Kyle Korver and
C.J. Miles. Matthews jumped at the chance to play for the Jazz in the Orlando
Summer League, one of two July sessions that serves as a showcase for the
league's youngest players.
If you're a lottery pick, you come to summer league with a fat contract
looking to improve. If you're an afterthought like Matthews, you come because
of the dream -- and the $113 per diem. Maybe you turn heads and nab a spot at
training camp in September. "But I was playing not to mess up," Matthews
says. "And that's exactly what ended up happening." Those closest to him saw
it. Turnovers, bad shots. He was trying too hard, forcing the issue. "He felt
he had to be like Michael Jordan out there and catch everybody's attention,"
says Lance Young, his agent.
When the listmakers exalt you, when the commish announces your name to the
world, it does wonders for your peace of mind. There's a job. There's
stability. When they shun you, there is neither. Ever since draft day,
nighttime had become Matthews' personal hell. He'd lie awake in bed, staring
at the ceiling until dawn. He'd watch Rush Hour for the umpteenth time in
hopes it would lull him to sleep. Never did. Once in a while, he'd pop a
Tylenol PM just so he could miss sunrise. His mother begged him to see a
doctor. "It was a very trying time," she admits.
The flameout in Orlando didn't help, but it didn't hurt, either, as he had a
preexisting invite from the Kings to attend the Vegas Summer League. This
time he did better. "A whole lot better," Young says. "Best player on the
court at times." Still, when it was over, Matthews spent the next few weeks
back home in Madison, waiting and wondering. He spent three and a half hours
a day commuting to Marquette for workouts. There were more sleepless nights.
"The waiting," he says, "was killing me."
Not that he didn't have options. A Turkish club was offering $120,000,
tax-free. "More money than my family ever had," says Matthews. But it wasn't
the dream. So when the Jazz called offering an audition for the third-string
shooting guard spot, he took it. "My goal was to impress them so much that
they had no choice," he says. "It was all or nothing."
Spencer Heyfron
Why was Portland so anxious to snag Matthews? His reach -- and the 1.8 steals
he averaged in the playoffs -- were two reasons.
Turns out it was all. Thanks to injuries to Miles and Korver before camp even
broke, Matthews started a preseason game in London against the Bulls. He
scored 16 points and hit three of four from three. By luck, timing and
effort, Matthews earned a spot on the team, and the rookie minimum of
$457,588. Then, in the third week of the season, in his first start, he put
up 16 points against the Sixers. A string of 18 more starts followed. By
season's end, Matthews was averaging nearly 10 points a night and he had
started 48 times. In the playoffs he upped his numbers to 13.2 ppg and 1.8
spg, all while taking on opponents' biggest scorers. "He doesn't take bad
shots, he has a tremendous basketball IQ, and he's a tough SOB," says one
Eastern Conference scout. "He just finds a way to make plays. Not drafting
him was a grave mistake."
Luckily for Matthews, and unlike the guys who did get drafted, he wasn't
locked into some piddly multiyear scale wage. And this summer he was on a
high-profile list that included LeBron, D-Wade, Chris Bosh: valued NBA free
agents.
The Jazz told Young that his client was a top priority, just after Carlos
Boozer. Matthews assumed he'd be slotted in the $4 million a year range, nine
times what he made as a rookie. Lottery money. But before the Jazz and Young
started negotiating, the suits in Portland, impressed with Matthews'
postseason effort, faxed Young this offer: Five years, $32 million. Matthews
heard this and said, "Get out of here!"
It was a front-loaded deal worth $10.3 million this season, with 90% to be
paid before training camp. Too rich for Northwest Division rival Utah. This
wasn't just lottery money; it is almost double what 2010's No. 1 overall
pick, John Wall, will make this season. "Nobody thought I'd do anything last
year and look what happened," says Matthews. "It is just surreal."
Amazing. Secure. Comfortable. Those are the words Matthews uses to describe
what it feels like to sign an eight-figure contract. So far, his only impulse
buy has been a $50 Samurai sword that hangs in its sheath below the
wall-mounted flat-screen in his Madison apartment. He plans on buying a house
for his mom and grandmother, a car for each, plus a house and car for
himself. First-time homeowners, all three. Most important, his mother has
gone from three jobs to zero. "Retired her just last week," he says,
gesticulating with his right hand.
He's back in Madison this summer, working out at Memorial High, the same gym
where he spent draft night just a year earlier. As he waves his hand, a
two-inch scar is visible on the underside of his forearm. He earned it during
the postseason, manning up against Kobe. It's a permanent reminder of what he
did to go from unlisted to coveted. It's at the root of why he sleeps easier
these days -- effort = success = security. And it's why, as he spends a hot
and sticky Wisconsin night remembering another hot and sticky Wisconsin
night, he doesn't even notice the clock above his head, going tick-tock,
tick-tock ...
--
很長的一篇文章 ESPN訪問新同學 有興趣的版友請自行看看
內容是講述他從一個落選新秀到成功打出名號被挖角的歷程
ESPN原文要insider帳號才能看 我是從realgm上轉的
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