Ariza hitting his stride -- and shots -- with Lakers
Doyel: Finals far from done | Ratto: Finding fault with Finals too easy
ORLANDO, Fla. -- Trevor Ariza crossed three time zones on his way from Los Angeles to Orlando, which is a homecoming for him only if you don't know his story. The journey has been considerably longer than a cross-country chartered flight -- and a lot more complicated.
When Stan Van Gundy was hired in 2007 to coax Orlando into contention with a spread-the-floor, 3-point attack, Ariza suddenly became a spare part. He was labeled. He was called nasty names, like "slasher" or "defensive specialist." Translated, those meant "can't shoot." Ariza was traded to the Lakers only a month into Van Gundy's first season. The Magic got Maurice Evans and Brian Cook, who are no longer with the team; Evans signed with Atlanta as a free agent, and Cook was included in the February trade that brought point guard Rafer Alston over from Houston.
What did Ariza get? A chance to go home to his native L.A., and more importantly, a chance to reinvent himself.
"It's worked out well for me," Ariza said.
• Series: Lakers 2, Magic 0
As the Finals shift from L.A. to Orlando for Game 3 on Tuesday night with the Lakers leading 2-0, Ariza has emerged as a basketball curiosity. He's the skinny guy with the long arms and the big ups. Though he hasn't broken out yet -- he was 3-for-8 from beyond the arc in the first two games -- Ariza is as dangerous from the 3-point line as anyone in the series outside of Rashard Lewis, an irony that is not lost on Van Gundy.
"It's sort of been interesting, I think, because over his career and even over this season with the Lakers, he was a guy who played very hard, ran the floor, a slasher," Van Gundy said. "What he's basically been in these playoffs more than anything is a spot up 3 point shooter. So it's been a real different thing."
Kobe Bryant is the closer for the Lakers. Ariza is the one who starts the fire.
As for the part about Ariza not being a good enough shooter to fit into the Magic's plans ... well, sometimes things happen for a reason. For one, the Lakers didn't have a $118-million small forward, Lewis, standing in Ariza's way. For another, if Ariza hadn't been traded to the Lakers, he never would've met Craig Hodges.
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| Trevor Ariza is feeling right at home with this Lakers sqaud. (Getty Images) |
"I know he won a bunch of them," Ariza said. "I don't remember watching them, but I know about them."
When Hodges first started working with Ariza, he saw something he liked (strong legs, the foundation of any good jump shooter) and something he didn't (inconsistent technique). Ariza had a tendency to roll the ball off without enough wrist action, resulting in a flat, line-drive shot.
"It was just a matter of him not having done it enough," Hodges said.
For the first month they were together, Hodges told Ariza that they were working on his shooting and nothing else. "We're not thinking about your driving, we're not thinking about your ball-handling," Hodges said. "We're just putting the ball in the basket. Once you see the ball start to go in more and more, your level of confidence rises. My main thing was wanting him to see his ball go in as much as possible."
Hodges isn't a volume guy, instead emphasizing quality practice shots over quantity. He wanted Ariza to feel the ball come off his fingertips the same way every time, and he wanted him to build confidence by experiencing success. When Ariza recovered from a broken foot that kept him out for most of the Lakers' playoff run last season, right back to the gym he went with Hodges.
"If you shoot four and it's all quality and then you shoot 400 that are not what they should be, I'll take the four all day," Hodges said. "I don't like the term muscle memory, but I like the terms repetition and ritual. It becomes ritualistic because you know off the dribble, off the catch, how your ball's going to go in."
"I always knew I could shoot the ball," Ariza said. "It was just the confidence. ... The people around me, my friends and family telling me, 'You can do it,' that did a lot for my game."
Having grown up in L.A. and played college ball at UCLA, Ariza sometimes feels as though it must be some sort of dream that he's playing in the Finals for the Lakers. And trust me when I tell you that he is someone who appreciates every moment.
A common sight at Staples Center during the first two games of the series was Ariza walking off the court and to the locker room holding hands with his 1-year-old son, Tajh. This is what home feels like. In one respect, the waddling little boy is like any other, emboldened by his father's firm grip as they move carefully through a world that is so big and loud and joyous and frightening. For a toddler, the world inside a basketball arena is like nothing else you can imagine.
But Tajh is not like any other toddler. He was named after Ariza's younger brother, who died tragically in a high-rise accident in 1996, falling accidentally from a 30th floor hotel balcony. Not a day goes by when Ariza doesn't think of him, a state of mind he guaranteed when he chose a name for his baby boy.
Yes, he has gone home again, and now he goes to one of the places in his life that never quite compared. Ariza joked at practice last week that whether he'd been traded or not, he would still be in the Finals. Somehow, it's better this way. Some things just feel right.
