Wednesday, June 4, 2008

Retired Players I HATED Watching #3 (Although I will admit, I did like his knee-high tube socks)

Glenn Robinson

He was a machine in college. His last year at Purdue, he averaged 30 points a game. He just had that innate ability to fill up the bucket, so easily and effortlessly. It looked like he wasn't even trying, scoring baskets just came that naturally to him. There wasn't a single player -- not Jason Kidd, who didn't (and still doesn't) have a jump shot and definitely not Grant Hill, who I thought was merely a product of the system they ran at Duke -- I would've taken over Robinson in the 1994 draft. So when he eventually went #1, it was no surprise. I was so sure he was gonna win at least one scoring championship...if not several.

But his career got off to a bad start. He made a lot of enemies by demanding a $100 million dollar contract before he ever played a second of pro ball. Then, when he finally made his debut with the Milwaukee Bucks, he was very underwhelming. He averaged a solid 21 PPG as a rookie, but his numbers were deceiving -- he shot at a mediocre field goal percentage, he averaged few assists, didn't play defense, constantly turned the ball over, and worst of all, he didn't help his team win. The Bucks were awful, and it had a lot to do with Robinson and his shortcomings.

From 1994 to about 2000, he was one of the -- if not THE -- best midrange shooters in the entire league. From 16-18 feet out, from either baseline, Glenn was automatic. Vin Baker or Ray Allen or Sam Cassell or any of his other Buck teammates could kick out the ball to an open Robinson, and he'd sink it every time. It was a very easy shot for him. But that was basically his ONLY move. He didn't have any other weapons in his arsenal. He was a one-trick pony. For someone who was such a high-volume scorer (and he was), he was shockingly limited as a go-to player. He was very unathletic and slow-footed, so he couldn't blow by or jump over anyone. He was an awful ball-hanlder with poor eye-hand coordination, so he wasn't going to do anything dribbling on the perimeter or while in the triple-threat position. He always had limited range, so defenders didn't have to worry about him pulling up in transition from behind the arc. He earned the nickname "Big Dog" in college for his punishing back-to-the-basket post play, but he was so soft and afraid of physical contact by the time he got to the pros that he never bothered working out of the paint (that, and he was so unsure with the ball in his hands that he'd only end up dribbling the ball off his foot anyway). And the wind-up and lift of his jumper was so slow that he couldn't attack anyone one-on-one, as it would just end up getting blocked or deflected. ALL he had was that one move, that midrange baseline jumpshot...and that was entirely dependent on him taking advantage of another teammate getting double-teamed.

Because of his physical limitations (and all the holes in his game that he never seemed interested enough to work on during the offseason), Glenn Robinson was just a really ugly player to watch. I would get frustrated with how uneven and unpolished his style of play was. Everything was so clumsy and awkward, slow and plodding, robotic and deliberate. I could see his moves coming a mile a way, which meant his defenders saw them coming two miles a way, which is why he always ended up getting stripped or stuffed or called for charging. And what's worse, he seemed completely oblivious to how limited a player he really was...or, maybe just really stubborn. No matter how hopeless a possession seemed, he would still barrel head-first into a 1-on-3 fastbreak. Sometimes, it seemed like he played with his eyes closed. His lack of good judgment wasn't Antonie Walker-bad, but it was close. He was a very detrimental player, he was like a blackhole. No matter how many points he'd score, he always managed to hurt his team somehow. He was like a bad luck charm, always impeding the path of good fortune. At a crucial point in a close game, it was inevitable that he would do something stupid, like throw the ball into the stands or get whistled for traveling. And it didn't help that it looked like he was NEVER in top physical shape. He carried around baby fat for most of his career, never getting any kind of cut or definition. This had a direct impact on his lack of stamina and endurance.

And even when the Bucks got really good towards the late 90s/early 00s, it had more to do with the marksmanship of Ray Allen and the clutch-shooting of Sam Cassell. It's almost as if Milwaukee won DESPITE Robinson's efforts, not because of them.

Glenn Robinson's career statistics

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