Stay Classy, Clyde

Clyde Drexler was always "classy."

That's what set him apart from all the other superstars of the late 1980s and early 90s. The way he carried himself both on and off the court, was as a class-act. He never made wild statements to the media, like Charles Barkley. He was never an aggressive pit bull like Karl Malone. He never walked with a swagger or had a personality that controlled a room like Michael Jordan.

He was the player who went about his business, night in and night out. Played hard, was gracious in victory and defeat, and always said the right thing to the media. He was one of the league's most incredible scorers and an athletic dunker, but never threw those facts in anyone's face. He was the basketball equivalent of Barry Sanders flipping the football to the referee after a touchdown.

Trail Blazer and Rocket fans admired him for it. Portland radio announcer Bill Schonely called him "one of the game's true gentleman."

That's why it was so great to see the success Drexler achieved. He was an all-star. Took two teams to the NBA finals. Named to the 1992 Dream Team. Inducted into the Hall of Fame. Clyde showed that it could all be done by being the nice guy.

Which is also why it hurts to hear what he has to say today.

As the 20th anniversary of the Dream Team approaches, writers have been catching up with members of the team to reflect on that monumental roster. In Jack McCallum's new book soon to the published, Clyde shared his thoughts on the selection of Magic Johnson, who had recently been diagnosed with HIV in 1991.

"He couldn't play much by that time. He couldn't guard his shadow...but you have to have to understand what was going on then. Everybody kept waiting for Magic to die. Every time he'd run up the court everybody would feel sorry for the guy, and he'd get all that benefit of the doubt."

Clyde goes on to say that if they had known in 1992 that Magic would live for so long, then Drexler would have been named the MVP of the 1992 all-star game, in which they shared similar stat lines.

It was a shock to read those words coming from Clyde. It was as if decades of being so politically correct caught up to him in one unfortunate interview.

Over the years, Drexler always said the right thing, to a fault. He never criticized anyone. Always wanted to get along. And for as much success as he achieved, he never got to the heights of other NBA superstars of his day, both professionally or in public perception.

He was the league's second best shooting guard behind Michael Jordan, but was perpetually stuck in his shadow. He carried two Trail Blazer teams to the NBA finals (on bad knees), but was never lauded for his enormous efforts.

He was a top scorer on the Dream Team and was responsible for a lion's share of highlights, but the attention went to Magic, Michael, and Larry. Even in the Dream Team's brilliant new documentary, Clyde's major contribution was mentioning how he wanted everyone to get along, and the story of wearing two left shoes at a practice.

Was his classiness to blame? If he had spoken out more, would history remember him as being more than the nice guy?

As Blazer fans, we always wanted a little more for Drexler, but we were still happy with what he achieved. Now it sounds like Clyde always wanted a little more for himself, too.

But I think the most shocking part of that statement - "Everybody kept waiting for Magic to die." - was that it came from Clyde. He had always been so supportive of Magic through the years. Always so willing to put his ego aside for the sake of the team. He may be repeating a thought that was shared by the other members of the Olympic team. But because it was Mr. Nice Guy Clyde Drexler who said it, it becomes magnified. If Barkley had said it, no one would have batted an eyelash.

Fans always admired how The Glide stayed above the fray, but maybe the pressure of staying so classy finally got the best of Clyde Drexler.