ORLANDO -- Stephen Jackson is trying to run from his troubled past, and he often wonders what will give way first, his weary legs or the public's perception of him. It's almost like he's in a sprint and a marathon all at once. The more ground he covers, the longer the journey, it seems.
"It's gotten to the point where it bothers me," Jackson admits.
Oh, yes. He'll put up a brave front, all the bravado about not caring what people think, blah, blah., blah. That's not true. There are some things he wants you to know.
He's more than someone who threw a flurry of roundhouse rights in the stands in a bloody fight that had folks cavalierly using the word "thug" as they tsk-tsked while watching the replays. He's beyond the person who fired a few rounds in the air outside an Indianapolis nightclub to settle a dispute (peacefully, in a way). And the scowls you see, the yapping he does and the constant flare-ups on the basketball court? That's him, and yet, not really completely him.
"People don't look at me as a great player," Jackson said. "They're looking at the mistakes I made 5-6 years ago. I have moved on. I've done well for myself."
Now Jackson is on a roll, and almost pleading his case.
"Look at what I've done since then. I haven't gotten kicked out of games. I've never gotten into a fight in a game. I've made a lot of changes. I started my own school (the Stephen Jackson Academy), my own foundation (the Jack1 Foundation).
"It's what you do after your mistakes is what counts. But people aren't looking at that. They say: `That's Stephen Jackson from the brawl and the incident in the club.' I don't think that's right. I'm a person who wants to do right."
Let's add something else. Anyone who ever had a bad word for Jackson never had him as a teammate. Or ever coached him. Or even traded him. Yes, Larry Bird, the general manager of the Pacers, dumped Jackson after he followed the fight at the Palace with the night at the club, leaving Indianapolis' citizens up in arms. Bird will tell you he loved Jackson, and how trading Jackson wasn't as easy as it looked.
Why?
Surely you saw Jackson wobbling around the court in the second half in Game 1 of the Bobcats-Magic series, dragging a left knee he hyperextended just before halftime. Some players would've changed into street clothes or stayed nailed to the bench. Jackson, though, returned and went to the basket. Strong. Against Dwight Howard. He was absolutely livid when Charlotte coach Larry Brown, worried about long-term damage to the knee, took him out of the game in the fourth quarter to basically protect Jackson from himself.
That's why.
Jackson comes to play, no matter the circumstances or the foe, because the one rap Jackson wants attached to his name is this: Jack's got your back.
"He might be the best teammate," said Bobcats forward Gerald Wallace, "that you could possibly have."
Jackson received an MRI yesterday and should play in Game 2, although Brown said: "If the MRI said he had a torn ACL, he'd play anyway."
Jackson will play because he's still caught up in the race, him against his history, and the only way he can win (meaning, change perceptions) is to play. Brown said, quietly: "I know how important this is to him."
Jackson is, by all accounts, a guilty pleasure. Maybe it's not fashionable to like him. But you do. Immensely, even. He's funny and sensitive, combative yet caring, and fiercely loyal to those who wear the same uniform. And he's vulnerable because he's hardly perfect, not even close. He still can't control his emotions in the heat of competition.
"He's crazier than I thought," said Brown. "And I don't mean that in a bad way. He hates when you take him out. When things happen to him and he gets frustrated, it takes him a while to get back on track.
"I teased Stephen, `There's nothing you're gonna do that I haven't seen before.' I think God helped me for coaching Allen (Iverson) for six years, which allowed me to be able to deal with Stephen. They have a lot of the same qualities. They compete."
Like Iverson, Jackson's personality is culled from a difficult life. He was challenged growing up poor in Port Arthur, Texas. He played in the McDonald's All American game with Kobe Bryant, but took a harder path to the NBA. He was recruited by Arizona but poor grades sent him to junior college. He bounced around various leagues, countries and training camps until his NBA career finally took root.
"I sat in the hospital and watched my brother die when I was 16," he said. "There's a lot of reasons I have a chip on my shoulder. The lack of respect. I love being under-rated but I want my props. I think it's time. Those things that Tim (Duncan) and others say about me being a great teammate? I want everyone to understand what those legends are saying about me is true."
Jackson will play the rest of this series, bum knee or not, because he can't afford to take a pit stop in a race that, in his mind, never ends.
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