Givin' some love

It's good to see good players getting the pub they deserve:

Incredi-Bull
So rich. So famous. So what? A lot has changed but little is different for former Jayhawk Kirk Hinrich.

Kurt CaywoodThe Capital-Journal

CHICAGO -- The jersey has changed. The city has changed. The league and the level have changed. The money, there's so much now he doesn't know what to do with it.
Kirk Hinrich hasn't changed.

Wednesday night at the United Center could have been March 2000 in Winston-Salem, N.C. The Chicago Bulls' loss to Washington in Game 5 of the first round of the NBA playoffs was no more a shock than eighth-seeded Kansas' second-round NCAA Tournament loss to top-seeded Duke.

As a freshman at KU, Hinrich outplayed Jason Williams, the Blue Devils' fawned-over phenom point guard. As the Bulls' unlikely star, Hinrich, who was drafted two years ago to replace Williams after a debilitating motorcycle crash, did everything he could -- 23 points, 7 assists, 6-of-7 shooting beyond the arc -- to beat the Wizards. Neither time was it enough, and neither time was it anywhere close to enough for Hinrich.

Wednesday night, as he sat next to the permanently vacated locker once occupied by Michael Jordan, a mouse starting to swell under his left eye, Hinrich's expression and mannerisms, his disgust and frustration in defeat, were the same he wore five years earlier in a dressing room at Wake Forest's Joel Coliseum.

Back in the day, it was a five-point loss in the last minute. This time, after a furious comeback that he helped fuel, it was Gilbert Arenas' buzzer-beater that cleared Hinrich's fingertips by no more than a finger's length. "It's just heartbreaking," Hinrich said.

More than ever, he pours his heart into every game. More than ever, he'd gladly cut out yours to win. "The one thing he cares about," said Chris Emens, his agent, "is winning ballgames." Winning ballgames didn't come easily in Chicago for several seasons. When Jordan, Scottie Pippen and Phil Jackson left, the Bulls went from the best team in the league to one of the worst overnight.

In 2003, with the franchise changing direction, newly hired general manager John Paxson made Hinrich the seventh pick in the draft. Hinrich repaid that confidence by making the all-rookie team last year, along with LeBron James and Carmelo Anthony, but he hated it. The Bulls stunk. They lost 59 of 82 games. When Scott Skiles was hired as coach less than a month into the season, he set about changing an entire culture of losing that pervaded the team. He changed everything but Hinrich. "I pretty much just tell him to play the way he plays," Skiles said. "He's one guy you don't have to worry about as far as the way he plays the game. If you're a coach, you have to appreciate guys like that."

This season, with 10 players with three years or less in the league, including a precocious group of rookies, Skiles had what was, in essence, a fifth- or sixth-year college team. After an 0-9 start, it gelled and became one of the NBA's most efficient winning machines.

PRIME TIME
In most statistical categories, Chicago Bulls guard Kirk Hinrich has better numbers in the playoffs than in the regular season.

WHAT'S NEXT
The Chicago Bulls play the Washington Wizards at 7 tonight on ESPN. The Wizards lead the series 3-2. The winner advances to the Eastern Conference semifinals against Miami.

"It turned into a great situation," Hinrich said. "We've got a lot of young guys, and the veterans we have are great to play with, great to be around and learn from. We've had a lot of fun and we've played hard. It's been fun to be a part of."

Hinrich hasn't just been a part. He's been the team's heart. This season, he led them in starts, minutes and assists, and he was second in scoring by a tenth of a point. He's regarded as one of the top defenders in the league. "Without Kirk this season, I don't know if we would have made it this far," said Ben Gordon, the NBA's top sixth man and runner-up for rookie of the year. "He's a very clutch player. He's kind of a throwback guard, a heady point guard, clever with the ball, definitely tough."

And still tough to read. Hinrich is more quotable now, but he's no more excited about sharing his thoughts publicly. The NBA media have learned what college basketball writers came to know: Want to talk about Kirk Hinrich? Call Nick Collison. "I've been getting calls about Kirk for two years," said Collison, a forward in Seattle, "and it's always the same questions."

The answers are the same as they were when the two were teammates leading the Jayhawks to consecutive Final Fours. In a tight circle of friends, Hinrich likes to joke and laugh and have fun. In public, he's about hoops and hoops only. Realistically, his celebrity is no more intrusive now than ever. Sure, in Chicago he is widely recognized as the first guy to lead the Bulls to the playoffs since Jordan did it eight years ago. But he'd already dealt with Jordan-like fame on a smaller scale. "It's difficult to go out, to go places sometimes, but it's not worse than Lawrence," he said, "It was worse there by far. That's just how crazy it is there. If you're a basketball player, they just automatically love you there."

They love him in Chicago. He is introduced last before home games to the biggest ovation. His is the best-selling jersey in the souvenir store. After the Bulls' success this year, businesses will be even more eager to show him a little love. But the endorsement engagements Emens lines up for his client are few and far between. There are deals with Converse, Upper Deck and Topps. There's a new one with a copier company called Genesis Technology.

"The key to that deal, even though it was a very good payment, was it only took an hour of his time," the agent said. "Kirk turns down a lot of things if they are not time-efficient for him."
And why not. By the end of his first contract, he will have pulled down nearly $6 million.

If you're having a difficult time imagining Kirk Hinrich, the gym rat guard from West High in Sioux City, Iowa, as a multimillionaire, it isn't your imagination's fault. "I still live like nothing's changed," he said. "I still dress the same, still eat the same food. Nothing's changed. I'm not even used to it yet. I still spend like I don't have money. If something's overpriced, I'm going to complain about it whether I have money or not."

He lives like nothing's changed, because the most important thing hasn't. In Lawrence, it wasn't about the runaway popularity. In Chicago, it's not about riches and endorsements and stardom.
It's always just been about basketball. "I think he takes pretty much everything in stride," said Jim Hinrich, Kirk's dad. "It comes with the territory. He's doing what he loves. He'd do it for a lot less."

And that's why he's worth every penny.

Kurt Caywood's column regularly appears Mondays, Fridays and Sundays. He can be reached at (785) 295-1288 or kurt.caywood@cjonline.com.