Get Lefty

I know, I know, I just churned out 800 words on the Magic-Pistons trade. But I can't let this pass.

Most NBA observers still think the Knicks and/or the Nuggets are the prime contenders to land Stevie Franchise, but just in case any of my friends in the Magic front office happen to stumble across this blog, here's my plea: get Lamar Odom.

And here's a guarantee: I'll back you. I'll answer the nasty e-mails from Sports Talk Live viewers, the ones that will point out Odom's rep as a head case. I'll educate the masses on issues of salary cap and team chemistry. I'll even field questions from Gator fans as to why the Magic wouldn't take David Lee.

Just get Odom.

When I started reading the published reports that suggested a Francis-for-Odom deal in the works, I jumped out of my chair. Faithful readers of this column - and faithful South Florida viewers of Sun Sports - may remember that back in the spring of 2004, I was sent to Miami to follow the Heat as a sideline reporter during the NBA Playoffs. That team was Miami's version of Heart and Hustle, led by Odom, Caron Butler, the still-viable Eddie Jones, an undrafted rookie from Florida named Udonis Haslem, and a lottery pick rookie named Dwyane Wade, who was the best player on the floor. That team, eminently fun to watch and an utter joy to cover in the locker room, beat the Hornets in the first round and took the loaded Pacers deep in the second.

The Heat were in a quasi-rebuilding mode after losing Alonzo Mourning to his kidney ailment for the entire 2002-03 season. In the summer of '03, they cut ties with Mourning (for the time being, it turned out), signed Odom and Rafer Alston as free agents, drafted Wade, brought in Haslem, and settled in for what appeared to be a long season. Days before the regular season began, Pat Riley stepped down as head coach (again, for the time being), handing the reins to Stan Van Gundy, who must have wondered what he did wrong. Miami proceeded to lose seven in a row to start the season, went 5-15 in their first twenty games, and began planning their 2004 lottery strategy.

Then, something wonderful happened. The Team Of Destiny Gods smiled on the Triple-A.

18 wins in their last 19 home games. A 17-4 record over the final 21 regular season contests, by far the best mark in the league. The Heat became the first team in league history to be 11 games under .500 as late as March and finish the season with a winning record. And the key guy, the one that made it all work, was Odom.

Playing out of position as a power forward, Odom revived his career. He averaged 17 points and a career-high 9.7 rebounds, leading the team in that category. He missed two games all season. More importantly, he bought everything that Van Gundy was selling, and spread the gospel among his young teammates. He carried that team.

When I got down there to do sidelines for Sun Sports in the playoffs, I was nervous about approaching him. I had read the same stories for several years while he was with the Clippers - took too many bad shots, head case, coach-killer. I clearly remembered his troubled past at Rhode Island. I was prepared for the worst.

Boy, was I wrong.

Odom was the Pied Piper of the Miami locker room. His coaches adored him, so much so that they were almost afraid to talk about it, for fear of jinxing it, or letting some secret spill out. His teammates, especially rookies Wade and Haslem, shadowed him like puppies, and Odom never led them astray. Point-forward, garbageman rebounder, three-point shooter, he did everything except sell hot dogs. Yeah, he took some dumb shots, but he also brought a Grant Hill-style sense of calm to the floor. Wade was Miami's best player, but the Heat belonged to Lamar Odom.

Pat Riley knew he had a hot commodity on his hands, and when Riles saw a chance to bring Shaq to South Beach, Odom was part of the deal. Publicly, Odom said the right things about moving back to LA, this time to play with Kobe, but I know that a lot of people in that Miami front office were just a little sad to see that team broken up. Odom had reinvented himself, but we'll never know how it might have played out. I really, really liked that Heat team in 2004.

Get him, Orlando. You're not seeing what he can bring to a team right now, not with Kobe jacking up 35 shots a game. You hear that he's seething at Kobe's selfishness, that he doesn't want to play Pippen to Bryant's MJ? Good. He wants to win.

Worried about how he'll fit in? Lamar, this is Dwight Howard. He's a 20-year-old freak of nature who can jump out of the gym, and he'll handle the rebounding. We're building the franchise around him. Can you play small forward again? Great.

Lamar, this is Jameer Nelson, and over here is DeShawn Stevenson, and that over there is Hedo Turkoglu. They've all got game, but they're desperate for someone to act as a ringleader, someone to crack jokes and tweak the media and give Brian Hill a hard time at just the right moment. They want a Pied Piper who gives a damn about winning. Think you can handle that? Like you did with Wade, Haslem, and Butler? Terrific.

Look, unless the proposed Knicks deal contains the words "Channing Frye," I don't want to hear about it. Denver's Earl Watson and Nene? Orlando's Whit Watson says Nono.

Get Odom. I'll back you.