Rasheed Wallace -- From exile to the top of the world

It was December 2003 when Rasheed Wallace went off on a tirade that many expected to end his NBA career.

The Portland Trailblazers were known more for their off-court run-is with the law than for their on-court play, which had featured 21 straight seasons of making it to the playoffs.

But the troubled group built on the volatile Rasheed and literally his partner-in-crime Damon Stoudamire, the whining Bonzi Wells, violent baby-sitter slapping Ruben Patterson and so forth was failing to live up to their talent this season.

They couldn't win a game on the road, and were trudging along as a below average team in a Western Conference where below average is unacceptable.

Wallace's December comments were the nail in his Jail Blazer coffin that sent him to Atlanta and then Detroit.

David Stern, the all-powerful commissioner was enraged by Rasheed's words, to the point that many predicted he would crush him.

Here are some of the comments from that interview with Wallace that appeared in the Portland newspaper, The Oregonian and caused such outrage:

"I ain't no dumb-ass nigger out here. I'm not like a whole bunch of these young boys out here who get caught up and captivated into the league. No. I see behind the lines. I see behind the false screens. I know what this business is all about. I know the commissioner of this league makes more than three-quarters of the players in this league."

It keeps on going:

"There's a whole lot of crunching numbers that, quote-unquote, me as an athlete and me as an NBA player should know. In my opinion, they just want to draft niggers who are dumb and dumber -- straight out of high school. That's why they're drafting all these high school cats, because they come into the league and they don't know no better. They don't know no better, and they don't know the real business, and they don't see behind the charade."

But wait -- there's more:

"They look at black athletes like we're dumb-ass niggers. It's as if we're just going to shut up, sign for the money and do what they tell us."

Not exactly "NBA Action, it's FAN-Tastic!" or "I love this game!" is it now?

Stern is the master of promotion and star creation.

As much as Michael Jordan did on the basketball court and in television commercials, Stern matched him behind the scenes to create an individual that is bigger than just an orange ball going through a circular orange rim.

The NBA promotes its superstar players as virtuoso performers to hopefully draw non-sports fans to the arenas and television sets and then to a store to purchase authentic jerseys, hats and any other paraphernalia the league can peddle.

Rasheed Wallace did not get the support form Stern because Sheed wanted to do things his own way.

His case presents an eerie similarity with other anti-establishment superstars like Allen Iverson and Latrell Sprewell.

Iverson entered the league and conducted business his way, angering the old-time NBA purists that wanted to see a more respectful youngster acknowledging that he is building on what the superstars of days past bled for.

However, Iverson wouldn't become a slick corporate product molded after Jordan, such as the Ray Allen's, Grant Hills, and Kobe Bryant's (seems like a different time for that one) of the world.

Even as he became the most prolific scorer of the current NBA, his methods on and off the court were questioned by many, turning him into a full-fledged counter-culture hero.

Then, he carried his 76er team to the NBA Finals, and David Stern had no choice but to promote this megastar no matter what demographics of America were offended by his brashness.

Latrell Sprewell received some backing from the promotion machine when he was a high flying, two-handed tomahawk, blast of energy in his Golden State Warrior days.

He was on the verge of superstardom when his team was broken apart by management, and a chain of events led to the infamous coach choking incident.

The NBA made a public example of him as the poster child for all that is wrong with athletes that don't play the game the way corporate America wants them to.

After being suspended for a whole season, Latrell re-emerged in New York City, the media capital of the world, and became the leader and driving force of a Knicks team that made an improbable run all the way to the finals.

Once again, the NBA had to tell the story of a superstar that they tried to ignore until he made a run deep into the playoffs.

Now, for the viewing public, there is Rasheed Wallace.

His time at North Carolina with Dean Smith seems like a million years ago, as do his numbered days on the Washington Bullets.

Ever since the Trail Blazers choked away an opportunity in the year 2000 to put an end to an emerging Lakers dynasty before it ever started, he had been floating in NBA limbo.

Rasheed drew more attention for his temper and rap sheet than for his beautiful basketball skills.

After being sent packing from Portland, he played one game for the Atlanta Hawks before arriving in Detroit, where his presence immediately transformed the face of the Eastern Conference.

The Pistons went from defensive powerhouse to a virtual air tight prison for the opposition.

When looking back at that same interview with The Oregonian, Wallace also delivered this:

"I'm not worried about my shots, I know if I wanted to, I could shoot the ball every time I wanted. I know I could shoot 50 times if I wanted and not get cussed out. But what good is that? What's the result in that? A) I don't hit more than half the shots, and B) we lose."

When he joined the Pistons, the general consensus was that Rasheed would become their go-to offensive player that they so badly needed if they wanted to go as far as beating the Nets or Pacers.

Apparently, Wallace knew more than what a lot of the so-called basketball experts did.

He didn't equate needing the ball more with winning games, something that Kobe and Shaq could learn from.

It's that attitude that has allowed Richard Hamilton to become the player to deliver the clutch shots for Detroit while Chauncey Billups and others can play their game without feeling the pressure to keep Wallace involved.

Say whatever you want about Rasheed's attitude or under whelming statistics, but he has definitely proven himself to be the ultimate team player, something even Stern and the NBA promotion machine has to smile about.

As Detroit advanced from round to round in the playoffs, the possibility existed that this NBA villain, who spoke his mind and said all those bad words, would be a constant presence on television.

Was it any wonder that a commercial was made featuring Rasheed and appeared for the first time during the Eastern Conference Finals?

The beautiful commercial, which shows his right arm tattoos magically drawn on to his body, is done Rasheed's way, not the commissioner's.

Game 4 of the NBA Finals was played Rasheed's way, not Kobe Bryant's, Shaquille O'Neals's or Phil Jackson's.

He hit the big shots down the stretch, in particular a jumper to answer a Kobe three.

Chauncey Billups will probably take home the Finals MVP, breaking the NBA trend of the best player in the league earning that award every year.

Billups might never even make an All-Star team, but it is the team play of the Pistons personified by Wallace, that has them one game away from one of the most improbable championship seasons in history.

Granted, their road to the finals has been paved with injuries to Jason Kidd, Jermaine O'Neal and Karl Malone.

This series will be remembered more for the Lakers combustible lack of team chemistry finally rising to the surface than the incredibly intense Detroit defense.

However, soon enough Wallace will stand next to Stern, who has to acknowledge this man that called out the NBA with those December statements, as a champion.