The Theory of Tall Shooters

Was watching the Magic play in Chicago the other night, and saw Pat Garrity take 12 shots, more than any other Magic player. Pat didn't have the best night, connecting on only four of those 12 (1-5 from downtown), but it got me thinking about Tall Shooters.

You can add this to my growing list of Sports Theories, many of which have been outlined in this space. There's the theory of Artists and Mechanics, the theory that Athletes Take Over In The Second Half, The 7-4 Versus 8-3 Theory (the biggest gap in college football), The Big Five Theory, and The No More Cool Nicknames Theory, among others. I stand behind each and every one. In the NBA, one of my favorites is the Theory of Tall Shooters.

Pretty simple, really: if you're 6-7 or taller, and can reliably knock down a standstill 20-footer off a dish from a penetrating guard, you can play in the NBA forever. That's it. You don't have to rebound, despite your height. You don't need to block shots. You may be called upon to guard big 3's or small 4's, and perhaps burn a couple of fouls, but as long as you make those shots, you've got a ten-year hall pass in this league.

This is no criticism, by the way. I envy these Tall Shooters, for being both Tall and Shooters. With the standard jump shot becoming such a mystery to the upcoming generations of pro basketball players, I admire a man who can play to his strengths.

Perhaps the best of the Tall Shooters was Dale Ellis, the Tennessee product who stood exactly 6-7 and played 17 years in the NBA - and was top-ten in made three-pointers in eleven of those seasons. He was named the Most Improved Player in 1987, made one All-Star Game, and went to the playoffs in ten of his 17 seasons. He's top-3 all-time in three-pointers attempted and made. That, fans, is a career. All for standing still and letting it fly.

The list of Tall Shooters from Ellis's era is nearly endless. Kiki Vandeweghe was a prime example. Glen Rice, who missed a total of 14 games in his first six seasons with the Miami Heat - hard to get hurt when you're standing still. Dell Curry, perhaps the quickest trigger in the NBA's modern era. Eddie Johnson. Smooth Sam Perkins, who parlayed that goofy left-handed set shot into a 17-year career that paralleled Ellis's nearly to the day. Chuck Person, who went from 1987 Rookie of the Year (averaging a career-high 8.3 rebounds per game) to simply the Rifleman. 6-9 Jeff Turner, the former expansion pick of the Orlando Magic, made the pick-and-roll with Scott Skiles Orlando's most unstoppable play during those lean early years. He didn't shoot many threes - he attempted 212 in his ten-year career, or roughly the number that Ellis attempted in a below-average season - but it didn't matter, because the Magic had Dennis Scott behind him, jacking 'em up at a rate of five attempts per game.

In today's league, Garrity is a rarity (thank you, I'll be here all week). Holding fast to our criteria of 6-7 or taller and primarily a standstill shooter, the list includes Garrity, Robert Horry, Kyle Korver, Raef LaFrentz, Donyell Marshall, Lamond Murray, Vlad Radmanovic, Quentin Richardson, and Clifford Robinson, among others. In the cases of Horry, LaFrentz, Marshall, Murray, Richardson, and Robinson, the Tall Shooter is an evolution - all of these players have (or had) the ability to put it on the floor, mix it up in the paint, and get a rebound or two, but have drifted over the years out to the wing, where they wait with open hands for the next kick-out. They are comfortable out there. Careers are prolonged out there. The view is nice, too.

On the other hand, Garrity, Korver, and Radmanovic entered the league shooting. Korver attempted a staggering 558 three-pointers last season, his second year in the league. Garrity's most productive scoring years in Orlando were 2002 and 2003, and not coincidentally, those were the only two seasons in his seven-year career in which he attempted at least five threes per game. Radmanovic, a behemoth Tall Shooter at 6-10 and 230, also attempted at least five threes per game in each of his highest scoring NBA seasons.

Like most good theories, the argument behind it is obvious. Tall men are guarded by other tall men. Guys like Perkins, Robinson, LaFrentz, and Radmanovic, in particular, would often draw the opposing team's center away from the basket to guard against the ever-present threat of the long ball. Fewer opposing big men under the basket means more room for the slashers, and more rebounds for the good guys. Defensively, the Tall Shooter is often assigned to an opposing big man, which can mean bruises (and fouls), but rarely means expending too much cardiovascular energy chasing a guy through screens. Couple that with the reduced risk of injury on the perimeter - Clifford Robinson missed more than two games only three times in a sixteen-year career - and there's your lifetime pass in the Association. And if your Tall Shooter can actually knock down those shots, so much the better.

So there you have it. Tall Shooters. When Kyle Korver signs his $50 million dollar extension with the Sixers next summer, remember where you heard it first.

The Smackdown

You like theories? Me, too.

One of my favorites is this: when two mismatched college football teams get together, the undermanned team can scheme up and throw curve balls for only so long before the team with superior talent prevails. Crafty play-calling may buy you time, but if you're truly outmatched, it'll catch up with you. When jabbering with Terry Norvelle and Brady Ackerman on the Chevy Tailgate Saturday set, I summarize that theory by saying "in the second half, athletes take over."

Best example from this weekend was Virginia Tech pulling away from North Carolina. The Hokies led that game 6-3 at halftime, then scored 24 unanswered in the second half. Thanks to that talent gap, the Hokies are in the ACC Championship game next week in Jacksonville.

Miami's loss to Georgia Tech the week before - the one that knocked them out of the ACC title hunt - only proved that the Hurricanes don't have the clear edge in athletes anymore. The ACC, buoyed in recruiting by the 1992 addition of Florida State and further strengthened by the addition of Miami, has drawn tighter. Five years ago, nobody gives Georgia Tech a chance against the Hurricanes. Today, nobody is giving Florida State a chance against Va Tech. I wonder if Bobby Bowden ever looks in the mirror and wonders at the monster he created in the Atlantic Coast Conference.

On the topic of the ACC title game, Todd Wright posed an excellent question on Sports Talk Live last week: given a choice between beating Florida or winning the ACC Championship game, which would Florida State fans choose?

After the show, I saw several threads on this topic at Renegade Report, the Seminoles' Scout.com affiliate. While I often see "STL" topics get repeated on the boards - which is fine by me - I don't think we prompted this particular discussion. Rather, it was FSU-Florida week, and this was just a pretty good question. So anyway - which would you take?

FSU won or shared the ACC title eleven times in its first 13 years in the league, including a run of nine straight titles - only two of which were shared - from its 1992 entry until Maryland broke the string in 2001. Even in this so-called "down" year, the Noles are still playing for a title come December 3rd. So I was not surprised to see overwhelming sentiment among the internet nation in favor of beating Florida. After all, winning the ACC is old hat for Florida State - and since Miami hasn't done it once, and won't this year, Seminole fans can still hang their hat on league dominance. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt.

What about Florida? Would Gator fans rather beat Florida State or win the SEC Championship game?

Different question, that one. The Gators played in seven of the first nine SEC title games, winning five, but it's been a five-year drought since the 28-6 shellacking of Auburn in 2000. Florida's football history in the SEC dates back to 1932 - fifteen years before Florida State started playing football - and those ties run deep, even deeper than the FSU rivalry. Without checking Gator Country, I'd bet that most Gator fans would take an SEC title over a Florida State defeat. Spurrier used to put the screws to Bowden by saying as much back in the day. Interestingly enough, Bobby admitted before the Florida game on Saturday that he now knew what the Head Ball Coach was talking about.

Speaking of Saturday, how huge was that game for Florida? You cannot measure the difference between 8-3 and 7-4. To me, that is the biggest jump in college football. Eight wins, and you can successfully argue that your system is working. Four losses, and you start defending your job. I got an e-mail on Saturday night from Gator Country writer Mark McLeod, who gave me the play-by-play on all the recruits who watched the Gator win in person. Jarred Fayson, a kid from Hillsborough in Tampa who happens to have Tim Tebow's ear, pulled the trigger on Florida after watching the "Smackdown In The Swamp." History teaches us that Florida State will still land its share of talent, but you'd be kidding yourself if you argued against the notion that the win on Saturday was one of Urban Meyer's most important performances, in terms of recruiting.

We've been doing this Chevy Tailgate Saturday thing for three seasons now. As soon as the final gun sounded in Gainesville on Saturday, I turned to Terry Norvelle and said something along the lines of, "this is ENORMOUS for Meyer." Ten minutes later, during his postgame press conference, the coach echoed that sentiment. It's a hell of lot easier to sell the program coming off a win - and 8-3 - than coming off a loss, and 7-4.

Anyone else catch the comment from Meyer regarding the long-overdue scholarship offer to kicker Chris Hetland? As a parent, I would have donated bone marrow to hear the phone call Hetland made to his dad, telling him that the tuition payment was covered starting in January. I don't care what side of the fence you're on - that brief story from Meyer is one of the reasons why I love college football so much.

Bobby Bowden appeared exhausted during his postgame press conference on Sun Sports. As far as we could remember, it was the first time he had spoken on the podium this season without the sunglasses, and the first time he was compelled to stand up rather than take a seat. The conspiracy theorist in me wondered if the lack of seating for Bowden was subtle gamesmanship on the part of Florida. That would be awfully cynical, wouldn't it?

One more note on Florida - Florida State: three questions into Bowden's postgame address, somebody asked him if he had considered inserting Xavier Lee into the game in place of Drew Weatherford. I don't know much, Seminole fans, but I know this - Weatherford is your guy. No knock on Lee, who I am sure is a remarkable athlete, but you're not losing anything with Weatherford under center. If Lee was better qualified to start at quarterback, he'd be out there. Coaches are not stupid. They do this every day. Weatherford is your guy.

Terry and I commented off-air that Weatherford is one of the toughest kids on the FSU roster, and his postgame interview was proof of that fact. He made no excuses, and even had the cajones to call out his teammates for not "bringing the fight." You want him on that wall, you NEED him on that wall. Florida State is a young team, with boatloads of talent ready to step up next season, and Weatherford has proven himself equal to the task. This has nothing to do with Xavier Lee. I'm sure he can play, too - but Weatherford is your guy. Let it be.

On other fronts, USF got cold-cocked - literally - in the 33-degree furnace of East Hartford, Connecticut on Saturday, ending their Big East dreams. UCF learned that they will host Tulsa for the Conference USA championship game next week, as UTEP lost to Southern Methodist. And damned if Florida International didn't hang 50-plus on Florida Atlantic in the Shula Bowl.

Just a couple more Rec Warehouse College Kickoff shows left for us, then the Bowl Previews, and then we turn our attention to college basketball, and the NBA schedule. And the beat goes on.

Impossible Is Nothing

In a previous blog entry entitled "The Big Five," there was one sentence that took me several minutes to write: "There is a chance - and let's be honest, it's a slim one - that none of the Big Three will claim a conference crown in 2005."

I really sweated that statement. After all, we know that Florida is out of the SEC Championship game, but FSU has already clinched a spot in the inaugural ACC title game. Miami, with a win in hand over Virginia Tech, needed only to beat Georgia Tech and Virginia to set up a rematch with Florida State in the ACC championship and thus assure that one of the Big Three would indeed claim a conference title this season. The Hurricanes, with eight straight wins and the best defense in the nation, seemed a mortal lock to win out and blow up my hypothesis.

Nope.

Thanks to an anemic offensive performance against Georgia Tech at the Orange Bowl on Saturday night, the 'Canes are pretty much dead in the water. All Virginia Tech has to do is beat 5-5 North Carolina - a team that escaped with a three-point win over Duke this week - and the Hokies will face the Seminoles in the ACC title match, no matter what Miami does against Virginia next Saturday. If it's Virginia Tech against Florida State in Jacksonville, who would you pick?

Thought so. I never wished for the Big Three to lay a cumulative egg, but with the Miami loss, there's a much better chance. How do you like the "Big Five" theory now?

One year after 0-11, the Golden Knights are in the Conference USA championship game after coming from behind twice in the fourth quarter to beat Rice on Saturday. Fittingly, the UCF win was sealed by a Joe Burnett interception with 27 seconds left.

Burnett, who also returned a punt 58 yards for a TD in the first quarter, is a freshman, one of George O'Leary's guys. He has no memory of 0-11. Wide receiver Brandon Marshall, a senior, certainly remembers the winless season, but his touchdown catch from Steven Moffett with 85 seconds to play will go a long way in erasing that memory.

Here's the best part - not only are the Knights in the C-USA title game, they're hosting it, thanks to UTEP's loss to UAB on the same day. The headline in Sunday's Orlando Sentinel read "Believe It!" How am I supposed to believe this?

Nothing seems beyond reach in this state right now. Consider the University of South Florida, which forced two turnovers in the third quarter en route to blowing out Cincinnati 31-16 on Saturday. Not only are the Bulls bowl-eligible at 6-3, they are on course to challenge for the Big East championship - like UCF, their first year in a new league - and claim the BCS bowl berth that follows. All it takes is a win at Connecticut next week, followed by a win at home against West Virginia on December 3rd. Not the easiest road, but how can anyone justify remaining cynical now?

Andre Hall, still the best running back in the state by a wide margin, went over 1,000 yards for the season and scored his 15th touchdown of the year. Later, he told the media that he wants to "mess up the nation for a little bit." Done. A reminder - USF started playing intercollegiate football in 1997.

And how's this for a story - Florida A&M, just a few months removed from 200 NCAA violations and a humiliating move back to I-AA football, beat archrival Bethune-Cookman on Saturday in front of 70,112 fans at the Florida Classic in Orlando to give Fort Lauderdale native Rubin Carter a 6-5 record in his first season as head coach. It was the second straight Classic that went to overtime, the fourth straight to be decided by a touchdown or less, and required the Rattlers to score the final sixteen points of the game, ten of those in the fourth quarter. Wesley Taylor's overtime field goal, his fourth of the game, ended B-CC's three-game winning streak in the series.

From 200 violations to a winning record? From a 17-game losing streak to a conference championship game? From football birth to a potential BCS berth in less than a decade? The whole thing is preposterous. Yet it's happening, right in our backyards. Nothing is impossible anymore.

Under Construction Forever

Anybody catch the note in Wednesday's Orlando Sentinel about the 10,000-seat convocation center now under construction at the University of Central Florida?

UCF - occasionally known as "Under Construction Forever" - has now made headlines twice in the last seven days with plans for a new on-campus football stadium and this new arena, which will host men's and women's basketball, concerts, shows, and graduations (with 44,000 undergrads and a current arena that seats only 4,607, UCF holds as many as six graduation ceremonies per semester). According to the Sentinel, the new convocation center could cost as much as $107 million once retail space, a new walking mall, and improvements are factored in.

Here's the part that should interest Magic fans, Magic ownership, residents of Orlando and Orange County, and especially the many local critics who have howled at the mere suggestion that a new building for the Magic utilize any public monies: UCF's building is privately funded.

From Sentinel writer Alan Schmadtke: "UCF will pay for the project by collecting money on 2,000 dorm rooms, two parking garages and 89,000 square feet of space for retailers."

Hmmm. Didn't some TV sports guy recently write a blog suggesting that a new downtown arena in Orlando incorporate "retail, dining, attractions, and other uses into its business model, creating a year-round, non-game-day magnet for commerce"?

Substitute "condos" for "dorms," and the UCF model starts to sound like my image of a new arena in downtown Orlando. UCF already has Ron Jon's, Barnes & Noble, Starbucks, and several other unnamed retailers on board, ready to serve those aforementioned 44,000 students - and ready to absorb some of the construction costs. Inside the building, the UCF Foundation will sell 16 luxury suites at $25,000 each, 64 loge seats at $1,000 per, and 500 club seats at $500 a pop. Sales in all three categories are already underway, with three-to-five-year commitments part of the deal.

By the way, the new UCF convocation center was designed by HOK of Kansas City, the same firm that brought us Oriole Park at Camden Yards, the Moscone Center in San Francisco, and SBC Park, among other projects.

Magic officials have made several benchmarking trips to other NBA cities over the last few months, taking notes on the myriad advances made in arena construction since the TD Waterhouse Centre opened nearly twenty years ago. Maybe they should make a drive out to east Orange County. Seems to me that UCF has already figured this thing out.

The Big Five

Does the state of Florida have room for a Big Five?

The University of Florida began playing football in 1906. Miami's program was born in 1926, and Florida State followed in 1947. Together, the Big Three have accounted for 95 bowl appearances, 26 outright or shared conference titles, and eight national championships.

The University of Central Florida began playing football in the fall of 1979, just a few months after the school changed its name from "Florida Technological University" in December of '78. After a decade of play in Division III and Division II, the Knights broke into I-AA football in 1990 with a 10-4 season under Gene McDowell, and made the final leap into major college football in 1996.

That same year - 1996 - saw the University of South Florida play three intrasquad scrimmages at Tampa-area high schools, as the Bulls prepared for their I-AA debut in the fall of '97. In eight seasons prior to 2005, the Bulls went 55-33 under one head coach, Jim Leavitt. The Bulls had winning records in six of those eight campaigns, highlighted by a 9-2 record in 2002, losing only to Oklahoma and Arkansas.

Together, the Golden Knights and the Bulls have recorded zero conference titles and zero bowl appearances. In 34 years of football combined, they've amassed exactly one ten-win season - McDowell's 10-4 campaign in 1990 at UCF, which ended with a 44-7 loss to eventual national champion Georgia Southern in the third round of the I-AA playoffs. By comparison, Florida has won ten games in a season on nine different occasions, Miami has done it fourteen times, and Bobby Bowden has done it 18 times at Florida State.

On paper, UCF and USF aren't in the same area code as the Big Three, much less the same conversation. However, everybody has to start somewhere.

In 1906, Florida's football schedule included two games against Rollins College, a private liberal arts school in Winter Park that dropped football in 1949. Ironically, Miami debuted its program against Rollins back in '26, and the schedule that year included games against Stetson and the University of Havana - as in Cuba, where the Hurricanes played on Christmas Day. When Ed Williamson took over the Florida State program in 1947, he had no stadium, no scholarships, and no team name. He also had no wins - Williamson was 0-5 in his only season as head coach.

Different eras, I know. Leather helmets and all that. The point is, the Big Three weren't always so big. For that matter, many of the teams that we consider "nationally prominent" today aren't too far removed from Nowheresville.

When USF debuted in 1997, Louisville was a 1-10 team. Last year, the Cardinals went 11-1, won the Conference USA title, won the Liberty Bowl, and finished 6th in the final AP poll.

When UCF put on the pads in 1979, Utah was 6-6, with one winning season in its previous five. Last year, the Utes were a perfect 12-0, won the Mountain West, won the Fiesta Bowl, and was ranked fourth in the final poll.

Where were these teams ten years ago? Where was Boise State? Where was Fresno State? Off the map, is where they were. Last year, they all finished in the top 25. Virginia Tech was invisible before Frank Beamer got there. Hell, they were invisible for a few years WITH Beamer - four losing seasons in his first six years, followed by ten straight bowl appearances and four conference titles.

In these modern times, any school that has the financial resources and the commitment from the administration - schools like Virginia Tech, Louisville, and yes, UCF and USF - can force its way into the national picture. Coaches can provide players with scouting reports on DVD. Fans can buy tickets online, and if they can't make the game, they can listen to it through the same website. When recruits come to campus, they can tour sparkling practice facilities and stadiums - and when they can't make the trip, coaches can keep tabs on them via the Internet and cell phones. Football staffs can promise kids national exposure on cable television and serve up the carrot of playing in a conference championship game. None of this was possible when the Big Three took their first wobbly football steps. Fact is, leaping into national prominence in college football has never been easier than it is right now.

Maybe "easier" is the wrong word. There are no guarantees for UCF or USF, not with all the money in the world. They still have to recruit - a task made simpler in the fertile fields of Florida - and they still have to win. In fact, that's all they have to do this season. Win.

If South Florida wins out against Cincinnati, Connecticut, and West Virginia, they claim the Big East title and a BCS bowl berth. If UCF can beat Rice next week, they'll seal a spot in the Conference USA championship game, possibly at home in the Citrus Bowl. In both cases, the Bulls and Golden Knights control their own destinies in the race to win a conference title in their first year in the league. While you ponder that, ponder this: Florida will not play for an SEC title this year. If Miami stumbles against Georgia Tech or Virginia, the Hurricanes may not play for an ACC title, either. Florida State, with three losses, still has to beat Miami - again - or Virginia Tech to claim another conference championship. There is a chance - and let's be honest, it's a slim one - that none of the Big Three will claim a conference crown in 2005.

Of course, even if the Bulls and Knights can pull off an unprecedented conference double-double, they will still face the scorn of college football snobs everywhere. Fans of more storied programs will sneer at their weak schedules, and roll their eyes at the cheers of the "bandwagon" fans. Expect it, Bulls. Accept it, Knights. You can't force tradition, and you can't create history. All you can do is keep winning, and over time, wins become tradition, and conference titles become history.

Just win. Do that, and we're one step closer to a Big Five.

Fantasy Hoops

Dwyane Wade scares the hell out of me.

I am in two fantasy basketball leagues this season. One is what we call the "RDV" league, as in RDV Sports, the parent company of the Orlando Magic. For the better part of 15 years, Magic employees and selected friends of the organization (I used to be the former, now I am the latter) have competed in an NBA rotisserie league. It dates back to the pre-internet days, when weekly scores had to be computed by hand. This league is so old, I once finished 3rd in a field of ten teams with a lineup that included Nick Anderson, Clarence Weatherspoon, and Loy Vaught. They were studs, too.

The other league is one that was set up by the producers of "Jeep Midnight Magic," a weekly magazine show that airs Sundays at midnight on WKMG Local 6 in Orlando, and Mondays at 6pm on Sun Sports (hence, my connection). The idea, much like the fantasy football league on Sports Talk Live, was to provide ammunition for the panelists to mock one another. Paul Kennedy and I, holding the sixth pick in the first round, were able to land Tracy McGrady and Dwyane Wade with our first two selections.

T-Mac, of course, played one game in the first week of the season before spraining his ego, leaving Sun Sports with four players against the five of Orlando sports radio station 740 The Team. Fortunately, Wade carried the Sun Sports banner proudly, scoring a bazillion fantasy points in the absence of the also-injured Shaq Daddy, and we won the week. My selections of Chris Bosh and Carlos Boozer will soon merit another blog entry - sheer genius, in both cases - but for now, Wade scares the hell out of me.

Have you seen the Converse ad, the one with footage of Wade getting the crap knocked out of him in high school, college, and the NBA? The tag line reads something like "Fall Down Seven Times, Get Up Eight." It illustrates an irreversable aspect of Dwyane Wade, and fuels my concern - the man is utterly fearless, the type of player who shoots a higher percentage after contact than before. He spends more time on his back than he does on his feet, and for this, he is beloved in Miami. And for this, I am terrified.

Wade is clearly one of the five best players in the league today. I just wonder how much punishment he can take. His Heat teammates were taken aback by his appearance at training camp this fall - Wade, generously listed at 6-4 and 212, has noticeably bulked up from last season. The extra time in the weight room is serving him well in the first month of the season, because he can't go five minutes without someone clobbering him. Fall down seven times, get up eight. I've interviewed him many times, by the way, and if he's 6-4 and 212, I must be 6-1 and 190.

Point being - if he fails to get up the ninth time, my Midnight Magic fantasy team could be down the tubes. Luckily, I have Bosh, Boozer, Andre Iguodala, Shareef Abdur-Rahim, Pau Gasol, Tony Parker, Bobby Simmons, and Manu Ginobili to back him up - plus, eventually, a healthy Tracy McGrady. Needless to say, I'm counting on Wade.

If You Build It...

Faithful readers of my column in its previous incarnation at the Sun Sports website will remember several installments regarding the arena issue in Orlando. Earlier this week, Scott Maxwell of the Orlando Sentinel wrote a piece after the Magic's home opener that dredged up a lot of the same muck that Mike Thomas of the Sentinel brought up in a column he wrote in February of '05. I composed the following letter to the Sentinel editor and to Scott, who responded with great professionalism. He pointed out that he did, in fact, rip the Orange County Convention Center in print several times, and told me that he agreed with me on some levels. We remain far apart on the big picture, but I respect his views as a writer.

Anyway -- here's the letter I sent to the Sentinel editorial board on November 4th:

Is it safe to say that Scott Maxwell ("Do you believe in Magic of new arena?", November 3rd, 2005) and Mike Thomas ("There's nothing magical about an NBA team," February 17, 2005) aren't terribly keen on basketball?

After Thomas wrote that infamous column back in February, I composed a lengthy response, one that I never bothered to send. Thomas argued, among other points, that the Magic "do not bring economic development" and "do not improve our quality of life," conclusions he drew from an Orange County poll. I vigorously disagreed, point by point. Further, I believed then, as I do now, that his representation of personal opinion as fact was misleading and irresponsible. Figuring that my viewpoint would fall on deaf ears - and having vented simply by writing the letter - I filed it away.

Then, on Thursday morning, I read Scott Maxwell's piece after the Magic's home opener.

Full disclosure: I work for Sun Sports, and therefore derive professional benefit from the success of an NBA franchise in Orlando. I am also a former Magic employee, and still have personal relationships with many people in the front office. Those points are ceded. Feel free to dismiss me as just another "sports guy."

But you can't dismiss this: I'm also a Central Florida native, born and raised here. My parents live here. After nearly seven years as an anchor at ESPN, I voluntarily moved my family back here because I wanted my kids to grow up the same way I did. This place means something to me. This is home.

In reading Maxwell's column - and re-reading Thomas's from last spring - it occurs to me that before we start arguing, we should at least agree upon the topic.

The Orlando Magic play 41 regular-season home games each season. Throw in preseason games and the occasional playoff series, and we're looking at 50 nights of professional basketball. If a new downtown arena opens in Orlando - or if the TD Waterhouse Centre, currently the oldest building in the NBA that has not been structurally updated, gets a facelift - that leaves 315 open dates on the calendar each year. Three hundred and fifteen open dates for concerts, conventions, trade shows, boat shows, ice shows, rodeos, and whatever else management can book. Maxwell speculates that the Magic will push to "make a contribution to the arena that's consistent with their usage. You'll hear that's about 25 percent. That's malarkey."

He's right. If you divide 50 Magic games by 365 days a year, the number is actually closer to 14 percent. Hold that thought.

In the same column, Maxwell opines, "the concept of spending money that belongs to local residents - many of whom are dirt-poor - to subsidize a playpen for rich athletes is distasteful." True - but using public money to partially subsidize a multipurpose facility that serves the public year-round is, well, pretty much how every elementary school, rec center, and park in this country came to be. No matter - even though I believe a new or refurbished arena would benefit more than just basketball players, I'll grant that the Magic would indeed be the "anchor tenant."

Speaking of anchor tenants - ever been to American Airlines Arena in Miami? Ever see America West Arena in Phoenix? Conseco Fieldhouse in Indianapolis? Each of those buildings, and dozens more across the country in all pro sports, were built for more than just games. Each incorporates retail, dining, attractions, and other uses into its business model, creating a year-round, non-game-day magnet for commerce. Imagine, for example, an arena in downtown Orlando with a high-end restaurant in one corner, a terrace nightclub in another, a Central Florida-related Hall of Fame in yet another, and perhaps a kids' museum, television studio, or - gasp - arts center in another. Would the Magic benefit from a new building? Obviously. Would they be alone in that regard? Only under the most narrow of thinking.

On the subject of cost, Maxwell points out that a new arena could have a price "as high as $350 million," and casually mentions that a new elementary school costs "about $13 million." Curiously, he fails to mention the $2.8 billion dollars - that's billion, with a "B" - that Orange County has invested in its convention center (Orlando Sentinel, April 17, 2005). So I'm wondering - would a new arena, replete with shops, restaurants, bars, and other business attractors, all within walking distance of the hundreds of millions of dollars' worth of condominiums currently under construction downtown, be a boondoggle compared to the convention center? I'm not here to pick a fight with the convention center, the county officials who approved it, or the hoteliers who pulled the strings, but I will point out that under Maxwell's math, $2.8 billion dollars would build 2,153 new schools. I'm curious as to why that figure draws apathy, while a new arena provokes outrage.

Let's try another angle. Give me your list of favorite American cities, the ones viewed as the most vibrant, the most cosmopolitan, and the most dynamic. My list includes San Francisco, Boston, New York, Denver, Chicago, and a few more. Make your list, and then ask yourself what each of these cities has in common. I'll wager that "an exciting downtown" is part of the equation, and I'll guarantee that most of those favorite cities feature at least one, if not several major professional sports franchises, playing in a well-equipped, updated, family-friendly facility. I'm not suggesting that sports makes a city - but it doesn't hurt. No "great" city is devoid of sports as community-building entertainment.

My friend Mike Bianchi likes to say that Orlando is a "rudderless, anchorless" area, filled with a transient population, and he's right. For decades, our image, both domestically and abroad, has been defined by our visitors. Transplant or native, resident or tourist, all are welcome here. Short of the daily traffic nightmare on I-4, I don't hear much complaining - not when the weather is nice, and the state income tax is nonexistent.

But here's the thing - Orlando does not belong to its visitors. It belongs to us. We live here, pay taxes here, and send our kids to school here. We work, play, and worship here. The central question, for Maxwell, Thomas, and any other arena opponent, is this: What do we want Orlando to be? Are we content to play second fiddle to Miami, Tampa, and Jacksonville forever? Are we satisfied with being little more than an airport and highway system for tourists, hoteliers, and conventioneers? Is that your vision for Orlando?

Personally, I want my hometown to be a vibrant, dynamic community, with world-class entertainment and a sophisticated public image. I wish for a diverse and growing economy, good schools, and safe streets. Unlike some, however, I do not believe that these goals, and the goal of a successful pro sports franchise in a well-appointed downtown arena, to be mutually exclusive.

The arena issue will be settled with creative thinking from men and women who share that wish, most likely through a partnership of public and private interests. It will be settled by people who acknowledge the challenges, and dedicate themselves to solutions. In short, the arena issue will be settled by people with vision. And at its core, the arena issue is but one component of the larger, more critical question:

What do we want Orlando to be?