Nice article

[Dan_ref]

March 12, 2004

Beating hardwood bushes
Scout looks for future NBA talent

By Michael Kruse
Times Herald-Record
[email protected]

New York – The husky man with the short, tight hair, the thick, dark glasses and the blue Oxford shirt cuts off a maroon van and wrenches his black Honda Civic off the Thruway and onto the Jersey strip of Route 17.
"Don't worry," he says to the guy riding mid-morning shotgun. "I know this road."
George Rodecker is 53 years old, lives in Washingtonville and for the last dozen or so years has spent winter night after winter night driving all over the East Coast.
The odometer reads 61,656.6.
He's had this car for 18 months.
Rodecker is an NBA scout. Kind of. He's more a scout for NBA scouts, an independent evaluator of talent and gatherer of information, a small cog within this sport's high-stakes futures market.
His service is called "hoopla, the draft report," and it's not available to the average fan – only the front-office people who need to know about the players and the agents who want to represent them.
And that for-a-fee consulting business is on top of his real job as a sales and marketing guy for a company in Ramsey, N.J.
On Wednesday, though, his office is Madison Square Garden during the opening day of the Big East tournament.
Rodecker pulls into the Midtown garage at 10:06 a.m. The first of the four games on the day starts at noon.
He's here to watch.
He's here to schmooze.
And he's here to continue to try to answer the question he asks every single day for every single player who has any pro potential whatsoever:
Is he or isn't he?
Can he play in the NBA?
Spain? Greece? Italy?
Where? For whom? And for how much?

RODECKER SMOKES Romeo Y Julieta cigars. He drinks Starbucks coffee like an alcoholic does vodka. He has a pair of arthritic knees, he's had two quadruple bypass surgeries, and he's a diabetic.
"And I feel like a kid," he says heading into the world's most famous arena.
It's because of this stuff.
In the tourney's media room, a huge hangar of an area with rows of long tables with lots of phones, Washingtonville's Rodecker sets up a laptop.
His small, silver Verizon cell phone rings all the time. Except it doesn't really ring. It plays the Rolling Stones' "Paint It Black."
He puts on the table in front of him the big navy blue binder he calls The Book. In it, in neat, printed-out sheets, he's got lists of players, stats, rankings, past drafts, breakdowns of trends and the salary structure of every NBA team.
Next to The Book is a smaller leather portfolio of business cards, with the colorful logos of NBA teams, from the Nets to the Bucks to the Lakers, and agents with addresses from Los Angeles to Greece to Turkey.
Now the first game is on – Virginia Tech vs. Rutgers.
'We're not here to watch it," Rodecker says. "We're here to watch the players."
Usually just one.
The NBA has 29 teams – 30 with the addition of the Charlotte Bobcats next year. Each team can have 12 active players and three more under contract on injured reserve. That means 450 jobs.
Sound like a lot?
It isn't.
The first round of the draft includes 30 first-round picks. Of those 30 spots, 20 to 25 could go this year to high school kids and international players – that's the scuttlebutt Rodecker is hearing – which is some daunting math for the college kids running up and down the Garden floor.
Rodecker has seen enough for now.
He leaves his courtside seat and makes nice with some ushers he knows and scans the stands for men with note pads, expensive shoes and scarves.
Those are his clients.
Those are the NBA teams' scouts.
He spots Leo Papile, the Boston Celtics' director of player personnel.
"George!" Leo says.
They shake hands.
Rodecker sits and chats for a good 15 minutes.
Why do NBA folks with the frequent-flyer miles and all the Marriott points want to compare notes with a single-parent father of four who was born in Jersey City, never played competitive basketball and now lives in Orange County?
Because Rodecker's part of an elaborate network of cell phones, laptops and Palm Pilots – equal parts number-crunching, on-site analysis and word of mouth – all of which contributes to form reads on the many, many kids trying to earn a shot at one of the few jobs in the NBA.
The chatter is everywhere.
What are you hearing?
Who's leaving school?
What's the draft order?
"I heard 7 to 13."
"Nah – 25 to 35."
The brains behind "hoopla, the draft report," specializes in the fringes, which is why Rodecker is a regular at mid-level college games at places like Marist in Poughkeepsie and Fordham in the Bronx as well as Big East events in East Rutherford, N.J., and here at the Garden.
He's a lifelong stat dork, but this business isn't all about the numbers.
"Why did I watch Michael Haynes five times this year?" he says.
Haynes is a 6-foot-7 forward for Fordham who's an NBA long shot.
"I'm watching for other things: What's his behavior in the shootaround? I watch him look at press row to check for NBA scouts. How does he react? Does he play the same way if there aren't as many there. Who's his posse after the game? Punks? Family? Agents? That all adds up."
And ends up in the navy blue binder.

BUT NOW the binder is back in the media area, and Rodecker is courtside, watching Notre Dame play West Virginia – well, actually, Chris Thomas, the pro prospect of a point guard for the Fighting Irish.
Rodecker's phone plays the Stones. It's an agent from the West Coast.
"What do I think?" Rodecker yells over the crowd noise. "I think he's an outstanding college combo guard. But where does he play in the NBA?"
He ends the call and elaborates:
"A lot of people aren't able to differentiate between college star and what level of pro player someone is. That's where I come in."
Especially with guys like Thomas.
And Andre Barrett.
The point guard from Seton Hall plays in the last game of the night. He's quick, slick, and smart – and he's also 5-8, which makes him all but a midget for the NBA.
Is he quick enough, slick enough, smart enough to offset his size?
Rodecker's seen Barrett 40 to 50 times, including three or four times back in high school, so what's he still looking for?
"You're still going to get some indicators," he says. "Here's a big-stage game for him. Does he play this game like any other game? Does he play tight? He's a senior leader. Does he lead his team? If they get into trouble, what does he do?"
As it turns out, his team does get into trouble, and Barrett does what he can – 15 points, seven assists, five rebounds, in all 40 minutes – but Seton Hall loses in an upset to Villanova.
Is he or isn't he?
Rodecker thinks there's a chance because of how hard Barrett plays defense, and in an average year, he says, somewhere from 15 to 19 guys under 6-1 play in the NBA.
By now, underground again, the garage attendant sees Rodecker coming.
"Go get the Hoopla car," he says.
Before too long the black 2002 Civic with the 1-HOOPLA New York plates comes up a ramp.
"Here tomorrow?" Rodecker asks the valet as he hands off a couple bucks.
"Yeah."
"See you then."
And the husky man with the short, tight hair and the blue Oxford shirt zips over on West 33rd and tailgates his way up the West Side Highway and back across the lit up George Washington Bridge.

Michael Kruse is the Times Herald-Record's writer at large. Contact him at [email protected].