NEW YORK -- Last time Zach Randolph checked in with me late in his rookie year was also the only time . . . until we spoke by phone a few weeks ago.
It was sometime in 2002, and I was standing outside the Blazers' locker room, waiting to do a halftime NBC report. Suddenly, this big, round, frustrated face was in mine.
"How's a young guy supposed to get any burn in this league?" Randolph respectfully wondered. "Every practice I outplay Shawn Kemp and every game he starts."