Redrafting the Jazz: 1981

I have been cursed by a witch to repeatedly travel back through time to relive every NBA draft. Fortunately, her spell sends me directly to the Utah Jazz war room on draft night and all the executives magically know I’m from the future and will do whatever I say. Unfortunately, the curse prevents me from seeing how my advice altered the future, as I am sent back to the previous year as soon as draft night ends.

June 9, 1981 – Grand Hyatt Hotel, New York City

Previous season:

Only two players on the 1980-81 Utah Jazz roster had more than four years of experience (one of them was the immortal Ron Boone, who was quite ineffective in his 12th and final season). Head coach Tom Nissalke led this young, raw team to a mediocre 28-54 record. But there were a couple of bright spots. Darrell Griffith was named Rookie of the Year and Adrian Dantley led the NBA in points (30.1 per game) and minutes (42.7 per game), earning a spot in the All-Star Game, on the All-NBA Second Team, and finished 12th in MVP voting. The Jazz had another league-leader in a less flattering category — big man Ben Poquette committed an NBA-high 342 personal fouls.

The draft:

Utah’s record earned them the fifth pick in the 1981 NBA Draft. Unfortunately, in 1978, the New Orleans Jazz traded away this pick to Seattle for Slick Watts. The point guard led the league in assists and steals in 1976, but he was completely washed up just two years later. After just 39 games, the Jazz sent Watts to Houston for their 1981 first-round pick, which ended up being No. 13.

In desperate need of a big man, the Jazz used the 13th pick on Syracuse’s Danny Schayes, son of Hall of Famer Dolph Schayes.

In the second round, Utah used the 27th pick on a small forward from Tennessee named Howard Wood.

This draft lasted an accursed 10 rounds, but none of Utah’s other picks mattered. Only one of them actually played in any NBA games — eighth-rounder Bobby Cattage, who surprisingly made the Jazz roster and appeared in 49 games for Utah and 29 for New Jersey.

Analysis:

Schayes had a quiet rookie season, but became a starter as a sophomore, averaging a fairly respectable 12 points and nine rebounds per game. Surprisingly, he was dealt to Denver at the 1983 trade deadline for former Jazz veteran Rich Kelley and $300,000 in cash. General Manager Frank Layden talked up Kelley’s experience, revealing that Utah had nearly acquired him earlier as part of a proposed three-team deal that would have sent away Dantley. Layden backed out of that deal because he felt the other teams weren’t offering enough for Utah’s All-Star, but he was reportedly thrilled to find another way to acquire Kelley. However, Kelley didn’t contribute much during his second stint with the Jazz and he left for Sacramento in 1985. The best part of all this, though, was that it opened up room for Mark Eaton to develop into a Defensive Player of the Year and an All-Star.

And then there’s the money. Many people look on this trade with the view as the Dominique Wilkins trade. It’s true that in this era the Jazz were struggling financially. They played a handful of “home” games in Las Vegas to try to boost revenue and rumors constantly swirled about them relocating to Minneapolis or Miami. An extra $300,000 certainly helped keep the franchise a bit more stable, but I think winning more games would have helped more at the end of the day. So with that in mind, I recommend finding an upgrade to Schayes. Even though he enjoyed an 18-year career in the NBA, he was almost always a backup.

In my opinion, Larry Nance would have been a much better pick at this position. The All-Star, All-Defensive Team power forward could have made a powerful front court alongside Dantley and Eaton (assuming the Jazz still drafted him).

Utah’s second-round pick, Howard Wood, only lasted 42 games before being waived. Obviously we need to upgrade here. My choice is BYU’s Danny Ainge. I wonder if one reason he fell so far in the draft was because he was playing Major League Baseball for the Toronto Blue Jays at the time. But the Boston Celtics didn’t mind buying out his MLB contract, and Ainge became a major contributor on two of their championship teams and an All-Star. Even though Utah already had a budding back court with Griffith and Rickey Green, I think Ainge would have made a stellar backup for both of them. Later in his career, Ainge was runner-up to Sixth Man of the Year.

And then there’s Ainge’s stellar work as a general manager. True, he has been guiding the Jazz front office for the past few years, but maybe he would have started doing that a lot sooner had he been drafted by Utah instead of Boston.

My advice:

1. Use the 13th pick on Larry Nance.

2. Use the 27th pick on Danny Ainge.

3. Don’t worry about any of the other picks.

The Danny Schayes pick turned into some much-needed cash and a veteran backup for Mark Eaton. I realize I’m putting those things at risk by recommending Nance over Schayes, but I guess I value on-the-court production more than these alleged intangibles. Did I just doom the Jazz to be relocated to Minneapolis? Well, I’ll never know. Because as soon as that 10th round ends, the witch’s curse whisks me away back to 1980.

Before Watchmen: The boredom of bleakness

Darwyn Cooke’s work has definitely been a bright spot in this sprawling Before Watchmen series, and I’m always pleased to return to it. With this issue, he devoted the cover to Mothman, with a beautiful color palette but some oddly cartoony stars. Sadly, this issue doesn’t focus on Mothman nearly as much as I’d like, which kinds of makes this cover misleading.

The variant cover by Steve Rude and Glenn Whitmore is a fun, classic collage of the Minutemen. I really enjoy it … except for Captain Metropolis’ hands. Is he covering his ears? Just relaxingly placing his hands behind his head? It doesn’t read right.

Speaking of reading, this issue was not a particularly fun read for me. The tone was so bleak the whole time, it actually made me bored. And doing a recap will be a bit tricky considering how many flashbacks and jumping around through time this story does. I guess I’ll start at the beginning, which was in 1962, when Hollis Mason visiting the former Mothman, Byron Lewis. As usual, Hollis is preoccupied with making sure his former teammates are OK with the bestseller he has already published. But Byron is essentially a vegetable now, unable to do anything more than sit and watch the sun set.

We return to 1946, where the Comedian has returned triumphantly from his duty with the U.S. Army in

World War II. Hollis and Byron have set up a new secret lab for themselves in the sewer, which is where they learn of Silhouette’s brutal murder. The two of them had been secretly working with Silhouette after she had been voted out of the Minutemen for being a lesbian. And at the time of Ursula Zandt’s death, she had begun investigating a mysterious string of children being murdered.

Hollis and Byron buried Ursula next to her girlfriend, Gretchen, in unmarked graves, but Sally Jupiter secretly followed them to see where Ursula was buried. She apologizes to her former rival, feeling guilty for having voted to kick Silhouette out of the Minutemen. In fact, Sally felt so guilty, that she personally tracked down Ursula’s murderer and viciously killed him. She then told off Hooded Justice and Captain Metropolis for how they treated Silhouette and announced her retirement as Silk Spectre.

After Sally’s graveside confessional, she’s suddenly approached by Eddie Blake, who tells her a long depressing story about a corrupt general who killed a kindly woman after she saved Eddie’s life. Eddie retaliated by killing the general in his sleep, although he now thanks that man for “opening his mind.” Anyway, Eddie’s main point was that he understands Sally’s guilt and frustration — despite having avenged someone with a murder. And so these two are able to bond over that feeling.

Anyway, Hollis and Byron decide to continue Silhouette’s investigation — although Byron’s alcoholism begins to become a serious impediment. Hollis discovers a tape detailing the horrors Ursula and Gretchen endured under the Nazi regime. And the issue closes with Hooded Justice having a nightmare of his traumatic childhood. If that wasn’t bleak and depressing enough, there’s always the two pages of The Curse of the Crimson Corsair to haunt your dreams!

Maybe I just wasn’t in the right mood for this issue. But I found the amount of tragedy and despair overwhelming. As such, this was the first issue of the Minutemen miniseries that let me down. Hopefully I’ll find more enjoyment when I return to the Silk Spectre.

Redrafting the Jazz: 1982

I have been cursed by a witch to repeatedly travel back through time to relive every NBA draft. Fortunately, her spell sends me directly to the Utah Jazz war room on draft night and all the executives magically know I’m from the future and will do whatever I say. Unfortunately, the curse prevents me from seeing how my advice altered the future, as I am sent back to the previous year as soon as draft night ends.

June 29, 1982 – Madison Square Garden, New York City

Previous season:

The Utah Jazz were a young team in 1981-82 — their oldest player only had six years of experience — which meant their future was bright and full of hope. Adrian Dantley was an All-Star and finished 15th in MVP voting. He led the league in free throws, but also turnovers, unfortunately. Rickey Green and Darrell Griffith formed an intriguing backcourt, but nobody else on the roster showed much promise. After starting the season 5-2, the Jazz lost 10 of their next 13 games, leading to the abrupt firing of coach Tom Nissalke. General Manager Frank Layden was given double duties, but he didn't fare much better this year, and Utah finished at 25-57, which earned them the third pick of the 1982 Draft.

The draft:

National Player of the Year Ralph Sampson was widely regarded to be the No. 1 overall pick this year. But when he saw that the San Diego Clippers had a 50% chance of winning that pick, he decided to return to college for one more year. The Clippers ended up losing the coin flip with the Lakers, who had to "settle" on future Hall of Famer James Worthy. San Diego took Terry Cummings at No. 2, leaving Georgia small forward Dominique Wilkins to the Jazz at No. 3.

The Jazz didn't have a second-round pick due to a trade they made in 1979, but they did end up with two third-round picks after they traded former Ute Jeff Judkins to Detroit in 1981. With the 49th pick, Utah selected BYU big man Steve Trumbo. And they drafted Louisville point guard Jerry Eaves at No. 55.

In the fourth round, Utah took a chance on 26-year-old Mark Eaton from UCLA.

None of Utah's other picks played in the NBA, but here they are just for fun:

95. Mike McKay, UConn

118. Alvin Jackson, Southern University and A&M College

141. Thad Garner, Michigan

187. Riley Clarida, Long Island University

208. Michael Edwards, New Orleans

Analysis:

This is one of the most infamous drafts in Utah Jazz history. If you ask any Jazz fan, they'll most likely tell you the same story: Dominique Wilkins refused to play in Utah, but that was alright because the Jazz were able to sell his rights to Atlanta for $1 million, which the cash-strapped Jazz desperately needed to keep the team in Salt Lake. If you ask Wilkins today, he will readily admit that he didn't want to play for the Jazz, but he will diplomatically say it was only because Frank Layden wanted to play him as a power forward alongside Adrian Dantley. But what actually happened? To discover this, I spent an embarrassing amount of time combing through scanned newspapers from 1982. My efforts were rewarded, and I'm now able to put together a pretty clear picture of what people were thinking at the time.

First, let's examine Wilkins' story. Scroll back up and look at the picture of him shaking NBA Commissioner Larry O'Brien's hand on Draft Day. That is the face of an unhappy man. That is the same face Steve Francis made when he was drafted by the Vancouver Grizzlies. Reading the newspapers from 1982, it seemed like a pretty open secret that Wilkins did not want to go to Utah. With Ralph Sampson opting to return to college, this became a three-player draft with Wilkins firmly in the third position. Layden admitted that the Jazz received many offers for the pick before the draft and it actually would have been easier to have traded it before they picked Wilkins. 

In Wilkins' defense, Utah was not an ideal destination in 1982. Aside from the geographic and sociological challenges, the Utah Jazz franchise was on really shaky ground before Larry Miller took over the team. The Jazz frequently played "home" games in Las Vegas and owner Sam Battistone was constantly threatening to move the team to Minneapolis or even Toronto. So I understand Wilkins' hesitation there. But I don't understand his current story of not wanting to play power forward. First of all, Dantley was a small forward in name only. Despite his 6-5 height, he was actually a power forward for all intents and purposes. This was one of the main reasons why Utah traded him away after they drafted Karl Malone. But my second objection to Wilkins' story is that I can find no contemporary evidence to corroborate. None of the papers in 1982 even mentioned the difficulty of playing Wilkins alongside Dantley. There was some playful pondering of whether Wilkins would replace Darrell Griffith as the best dunker on the team, but that's it. On the day of the draft, the prevailing assumption was that the Jazz intended to play Wilkins because they didn't trade their pick before the draft.

Now what about the money? When Utah finally did send Wilkins to Atlanta in September, Battistone said that many teams offered to buy the rights to Wilkins, but he insisted on holding out for a deal that included quality players. Layden confirmed as much, saying the Jazz spent months negotiating with the Hawks and only agreed to the deal once two-time All-Star John Drew was included. The initial reporting hyped up the acquisition of both Drew and Freeman Williams, who had scored more points in college than anyone besides Pete Maravich at the time. The inclusion of $1 million in cash was treated as an afterthought.

I have no doubt that the money helped the Jazz a lot. But the narrative of that cash "saving" the Jazz appears to have been something that developed over time to justify the incredibly lopsided results of this trade. While Wilkins went on to become a perennial All-Star and MVP candidate, Drew and Williams failed to live up to the hype Layden bestowed on them. Drew missed 38 games in his first season in Utah due to an eight-week stint in drug rehab. He came back strong in his second season and was runner-up for Sixth Man of the Year. (Unlike with Wilkins, there was an actual conversation about whether Drew could play alongside Dantley, as they both had very similar games. Which is why Drew was forced to come off the bench.) Sadly, Drew relapsed in 1984 and was waived after just 19 games into his third Jazz season. He later earned the distinction of becoming the first player banned by David Stern for substance abuse.

Williams fared no better, playing in only 18 games before quietly being waived in December 1982. It was later revealed that he also struggled with substance abuse. Eerily, both Drew and Williams passed away in April 2022.

I wonder if this was a complete coincidence that both the players Atlanta sent to Utah were essentially "damaged goods." It stands to reason that the Hawks would have known better than anyone whether their players were struggling with an addiction. And this was also an era of "gentlemanly" coverups. People simply didn't talk about things like drug addiction or sex with underage girls unless it really became a big problem. Regardless of Atlanta's inside knowledge (or the lack thereof), this trade would have been a complete disaster for Utah had it not been for that $1 million in cash. And since everyone loved Layden so much, it makes sense that they all collectively decided to spin this blunder in a more positive light — even if said spin required some revisionist history.

Now how about the rest of the draft? Well, Steve Trumbo never played in the NBA and Jerry Eaves gave Utah two quiet seasons in a reserve role before he was waived to make room for John Stockton. But Mark Eaton was one of the most inspiring success stories in NBA history. This blog has already gone on long enough, so I'll restrain myself from telling you what you probably already know.

My advice:

Believe it or not, I'm going to advise the Jazz to do everything the same. I'm not sure the Dominique Wilkins trade was the best possible trade for Utah to make — but I can't really help with that, as the witch's curse contains me just to the night of the draft. At the end of the day, I believe teams should use the draft to select the best player available, even if he refuses to play for your team. Acquiring valuable assets is the name of the game for general managers. And Dominique Wilkins was by far the most valuable asset available at the No. 3 spot. And, of course, Mark Eaton was a beautiful diamond in the rough that Utah can't afford to miss.

Before Watchmen: Dr. Manhattan finally gets interesting!

It's been almost a year since I've touched this blog — but I have a good excuse! I decided to go back to school to get my master's degree, and once that all wrapped up, the limited time I had left to blog was dedicated to catching up on Impulse. It's almost like time is broken, as this issue implies. But first, the cover. This is a fun pulp-style comic by Adam Hughes, which is obviously a play on Dr. Manhattan and the Silk Spectre, and is actually a key part of the story inside. I know I've been gone a long time, but right now, I'm really finding this uniqueness quite refreshing.

The variant cover by P. Craig Russell does not bring that same level of refreshing uniqueness. It just leaves me feeling empty and bland inside. Much like the original interpretation of Dr. Manhattan by Alan Moore. The world's most powerful being was often the most dull character — never using his vast abilities to do anything interesting or explore new possibilities. A character like that works in an ensemble piece, like Watchmen, but it would be fatal for a solo series. Luckily, J. Michael Straczynski used this issue as an opportunity to do something interesting.

Dr. Manhattan has returned to the Gila Flats testing center at 1:15 p.m. on August 20, 1959, to witness the moment he should have been transformed from Jon Osterman to Dr. Manhattan. But this time — much to his astonishment — Jon avoids the accident and safely retrieves Janey Slater's watch. While Dr. Manhattan struggles to comprehend this paradox, Jon is intrigued by a minor mystery of his own: Janey's repaired watch is frozen at 1:15.

Later, Jon takes Janey back to the carnival where her watch was originally smashed. This time, Jon decides to play one of the games, while Janey oddly reminisces about a man named Hank Meadows. Despite being young and healthy, and having avoided smoking, drinking, and even working with the heavy radiation equipment, he suddenly died of cancer. Janey speculates that must have been God's will, because if Hank didn't die, then Jon wouldn't have been hired to replace him, and she would have never met Jon.

Just as she finishes that thought, Jon wins his carnival game and reveals an engagement ring hidden in his prize stuffed bear. Janey accepts Jon's proposal, and as the two of them walk away, the game operator says it's his job to provide the illusion of free will. All the while, Dr. Manhattan keeps watching in silent bewilderment, unseen by anyone else.

We skip ahead to the day of the wedding, where Jon's father is surprisingly there, helping his son get ready. The elder Osterman reveals that he had a dream a year ago where he was told Jon had died. The dream was so real that it took him days to get it out of his head. Jon assures his father that dream will never come true now that he's decided to move to Washington, D.C., to teach physics at Georgetown.

Jon heads down the hall toward his bride-to-be, encountering a small boy reading the comic book that was the cover for this issue. The boy says he wants to be a scientist like Jon so he can go to Mars and see the "blue people." According to his comic book, all the blue people had died off except for one remaining blue man. Jon doubts this is true, but he says the boy may one day get to go to Mars.

And then things get interesting. There are two doors at the end of the hall and Jon calls out to Janey, asking which one she's behind. She tells him to guess, and we see that Jon's seemingly innocuous choice creates vast differences in this world. When he opens the left door, John F. Kennedy taps the Comedian to resolve the Cuban Missile Crisis. But the Comedian's impatient, violent tendencies lead to the U.S. preemptively attacking Russia and launching a nuclear holocaust. But when Jon chooses the right door, Kennedy sent Ozymandias to negotiate with the Russians, and his diplomacy skills preserved the peace. The one constant in both of those realities was that Jon did get married to Janey, but was still unable to fix her watch.

We cut back to Jon opening the door to find Janey putting on the finishing touches to her wedding dress. She coyly suggests that she may have been in both rooms at the same time, but Jon doesn't entertain this notion and leads her down the hall, not noticing that the boy's comic book has now changed to show a mushroom cloud rising behind the U.S. Capitol Building. Janey asks Jon if he would prefer to have the first dance or the last dance of the wedding, and we're treated to more possibilities.

When Jon picks the first dance, President Kennedy is assassinated, Richard Nixon resigns during his second term, and Ronald Reagan advocates for the Berlin Wall to be torn down. But when Jon chooses the last dance, Kennedy survives his assassination attempt and Richard Nixon wins a third term, staying in office long enough to oversee a full-blown nuclear war against Russia. We then get a fun two-page spread showing how reality can be altered by so many insignificant choices made by Jon, such as accidentally pressing the wrong button on the elevator and choosing red wine instead of white at dinner.

We skip ahead to Jon and Janey having dinner with Wally Weaver and Professor Glass. They're discussing the idea of Schrodinger's cat, which involves placing a cat in a box rigged with a device that has a 50% chance of killing the cat. According to quantum physics, this doesn't mean that the cat is either alive or dead while in the box — it means the cat is both alive and dead until it is observed. This mindset is important for studying particles that are only particles while being observed but are waves when you look away. Jon then wonders what happens if you don't open the box. His professor says that the longer the box remains closed, the greater the chance that unanticipated factors could alter the results, creating more random possibilities and pocket universes, each equally real until the moment when the box is finally opened and they all collapse into one reality as perceived by the quantum observer.

Later, Jon is trying once again to fix Janey's watch. He can't understand why it won't work when all the parts seem to be just fine. Janey suggests that maybe the watch isn't broken, but time is. Jon brushes that comment off as a joke and decides to abandon the watch for the time being. But Dr. Manhattan remains behind, considering the possibility that time is broken. As nuclear missiles begin raining down all over the planet, Dr. Manhattan begins to question what he has become and what he has done. And the final panel ends on the infamous Robert Oppenheimer quote: "For I am become Death, the Destroyer of Worlds."

I normally don't go into that much detail on these Before Watchmen reviews, but I absolutely loved this issue. I haven't read too many Straczynski comics, but they've never impressed me as much as this one has. Maybe I'm just a sucker for alternate worlds and different possibilities, but I think it was presented in a fascinating way, especially with the scientific discussion anchoring everything. This is exactly the kind of story I wanted for Dr. Manhattan.

The Crimson Corsair backup story by John Higgins continues in this issue. It is beautifully illustrated, but still dreadfully boring. For me, anyway. Hopefully the rest of this Before Watchmen series will be good when I get read them. I guess right now, those issues are both simultaneously the most interesting and most dull stories until I open them up.