The past 10 days or so have been instructive on the Jason Williams front, especially for those Kings fans who have paid virtually no attention to the man or any of his actions over the past three seasons. It turns out that: a) Williams is a nakedly emotional player; b) he doesn't like sitting on the bench; and c) What are you looking here for? That's the whole story, a) and b).
There is no c) with Jason Williams, only see-through. The man is one of the most transparent entities in the NBA. Ask any fan who has ever sought an autograph from Williams in a furniture shop or a McDonald's or the local Tower Records store: Whatever Williams' mood happens to be at that exact moment -- great, lousy or knife-fight edgy -- you'll know it immediately.
This makes it all the more amazing that Williams' visible unhappiness over not being used down the stretch of some recent games struck anyone as either surprising or the slightest bit out of character. In fact, it was right on the money -- and it was genuine. Williams may have chosen a graceless way to demonstrate that unhappiness, sitting down there by himself during a timeout in the Vancouver game, declining to join his teammates in the huddle; but one thing you can't rationally accuse him of is grandstanding.
Grandstanding requires calculation. Jason Williams is the least calculating athlete I can think of in the league right now.
Williams apologized to Kings coach Rick Adelman about the incident in Vancouver, and Adelman's explanation of his own concern spoke volumes about where things stand with the point guard lately. What the coach said, in effect, was that the whole world is watching -- and chirping -- because it's Jason Williams doing the sulking and not, say, Pooh Richardson. It is Williams, and by the power vested in the NBA as the supreme marketer of image, that matters.
And that is accurate as far as it goes. The trouble is, it doesn't go far enough. What Adelman didn't say, but could have, is that Williams is 100 percent right to be angry.
Williams ought to be majestically torqued off by the fact that Adelman goes for Bobby Jackson in the waning moments of games lately, including all of the fourth quarter and overtime in Saturday's loss to Philadelphia. Williams ought to be furious that he has let himself become a point guard about whom Adelman harbors any doubt at crunch time.
Williams ought to be angry that, in three years as a pro, he hasn't raised his defensive play to a level in which the Kings can place their trust in the fourth quarter of every game on the schedule. As it stands now, Adelman feels comfortable with Williams on the floor in the late going against some opponents and not remotely comfortable with him out there against others.
That's not superstar performance, it's just-playin'-in-the-league performance.
And Williams absolutely, positively ought to be red-faced about it.
And then, of course, he has to find a way to change it.
Anyone wishing for a calmer, more reasoned Jason Williams is not only missing the point but ignoring the history. Anger, from wherever it is derived, has always gone a long way with Williams as a basketball player. Anger drives Williams, helps make him better. And perhaps he can become angry enough over this situation to do something about it, to rip back the minutes that Jackson is taking away from him right now by the sheer quality of Jackson's effort on the defensive end and his control on offense.
It's a fairly complex thing. For most of Williams' first two seasons, when the Kings initially had no other options at point guard and later didn't realize all that they had in Tony Delk, Adelman simply stuck with Williams through the thick and thin and hoped for two things: First, that the guard would somehow grow into the all-around role his team needed him to assume; and second, that if he didn't, Williams' offense would still be enough to compensate for what he gave up at the other end.
Perhaps Williams grew to assume a constancy in that scenario. But here in Year 3, with Jackson and Doug Christie aboard, Adelman no longer feels the need to sacrifice. He can acknowledge that Williams has improved defensively yet feel comfortable in stating that Williams still isn't where he should be -- and in acting on that belief.
Adelman, that is to say, has options. Williams has his anger. What the guard makes of the latter will surely inform how his coach exercises the former.
