Been there. Been everywhere. Done that. Done a little of everything.
Nothing much fazes Joe Kleine after a well-traveled dozen years in the National Basketball Association. He has absorbed his share of blows in the postgraduate school of hard knocks.
The Sacramento Kings once placed Kleine under the supervision of a juggler who claimed he could improve his hand-eye coordination. The Boston Celtics once acquired him in a midseason trade while he was at his wife’s bedside in a hospital delivery room. Kleine’s Phoenix Suns teammates once watched in horror as he fainted dead away during the playing of the national anthem before a nationally televised game, toppling in seeming slow motion like newsreel footage of a giant building being imploded.
If anyone is equipped to board an amusement park ride with no safety bar locked in–a good guess as to what the Bulls’ season might resemble–it’s Joe Kleine.
It takes a long time for a 7-footer to hit the deck and a lot of motivation to keep getting back up. Kleine, a celebrated player at the University of Arkansas, was the Kings’ first draft choice in their charter season. When he fell short of his early promise, he had to make peace with the fact that he was going to earn an NBA paycheck as a part-timer or not at all.
Despite his wealth of natural amiability and acquired patience, however, the 35-year-old Kleine is at a point in his career where he is unwilling to grovel for a job. After a dispiriting 1996-97 season in which he was traded from Phoenix to the Lakers to New Jersey, Kleine thought about mothballing his gym shoes and devoting himself to his family and the rib joint he co-owns in Little Rock, Ark.
“It took a big toll on me, and I did consider hanging it up,” Kleine said. “When I came home in April, I was down, I really was. I had no interest. I still liked the game, but it was tough.
“I wasn’t really with L.A.–I was on the team, but I never played. I wasn’t really a part of it. And then I went to New Jersey and I really enjoyed the organization and I like coach (John) Calipari, but they’re going through the struggles of rebuilding. And when you’ve been in the league 12 years, that’s not really appealing to you.”
He hesitated even after the five-time NBA champions called in July, looking for someone to fill the void left by the departed Brian Williams.
“They had so many question marks,” Kleine said. “Everyone said Phil (Jackson) was going to be back and Michael (Jordan) was going to be back, but I’ve heard a lot of people say a lot of things in this league over the years and it doesn’t always happen. I wanted to be sure.”
In September, Kleine felt certain enough to sign a one-year contract for his sixth NBA team.
“I knew I wasn’t going to come in here and be a focal point, but I want to be around good people, a good situation,” he said. “The main thing is, they have a chance to win. If I’d decided to retire, I could be sitting home in June watching them on TV and saying, `I could’ve maybe been a part of that.’ “
Kleine was the fulcrum of his teams in high school and college. As a senior in the small town of Slater, Mo., he averaged 31 points for a 29-3 team. He transferred to Arkansas after an uncomfortable freshman year at Notre Dame, where he later said he felt like a rube among city slickers.
“Me and my family were blinded by the Golden Dome,” he told the Kansas City Star.
At Arkansas, Kleine tested himself against the best centers of his time and held his own. In one memorable 1984 matchup with the University of Houston, Kleine forced Hakeem Olajuwon into fouling out in the final moments of the game and hit four straight free throws to secure an upset for Arkansas. “He was our floor leader,” said former Razorbacks coach Eddie Sutton, now at Oklahoma State. That same year, Kleine was selected for the U.S. Olympic team.
During those heady days, Kleine reluctantly allowed himself to be set up on a blind date. “I didn’t want to go and Dana didn’t want to go either,” he said. “We had nothing better to do, so we both went.” He squired her to a local hangout called Maxine’s Tap Room, where the chief attraction was a bowling machine.
“I figured if she liked that place, she’d be all right,” Kleine said.
Eleven years of marriage and three children later, his criteria look pretty astute.
In 1985, Kleine was drafted sixth overall by the Kings, ahead of future All-Stars such as Chris Mullin, Joe Dumars and Karl Malone. Sacramento was ga-ga for its new NBA team, and the Kings gave the community a reason to cheer, making the playoffs in their debut season with a record of 37-45.
But the juggling episode turned out to be a rare comic interlude in Kleine’s uneven three-plus seasons in Sacramento. His shoulders, broad as they are, could not support the expectations of the fans and the organization and, ultimately, his own.
“One thing we miscalculated was that although he’s a good athlete, Joe is not a shot-blocker,” said Jerry Reynolds, the Kings’ director of player personnel, who was an assistant coach and the Kings’ head coach during Kleine’s tenure. “But he’s one of the best in the league at setting screens. He was unselfish and he got guys open. And he’s a good per-minute defensive rebounder and a good free throw shooter.
“The juggling thing was a good example of his personality. He probably thought it was pretty silly, but he wanted to please. He was willing to go the extra mile.”
Kleine’s struggles in Sacramento were exacerbated by the death of his father, to whom he was extremely close, after his first season. He suffered with the unfamiliar stereo sound of booing.
“I didn’t have the luxury of a Rony Seikaly or a Bryant Reeves,” Kleine said, referring to two centers who started their careers with expansion teams. “Meaning, `You’re going to play, we’re going to lose, you’re going to develop and we’re going to build around you.’
“We had a good team. There weren’t any times when people would say, `Hey, you’re having a hard time, you’re struggling but we’re going to stick with you.’ I didn’t have the luxury of playing through things. Maybe that hurt me from a development standpoint.”
It was in Boston, where he functioned as a valuable spare part in a classic vehicle, that Kleine settled into his new skin.
“I did find a role that I liked, that I was comfortable with, and I accepted it,” Kleine said. “It was easier to accept playing behind Chief (Robert Parish), Larry (Bird) and Kevin (McHale) than Jim Petersen and LaSalle Thompson. Not that those guys aren’t good players, but they’re not legendary players.”
The Celtics twice won their division in Kleine’s four-plus seasons there, but could not progress past the second round of the playoffs. The plot line was similar in Phoenix, where Kleine landed in 1993. In back-to-back seasons, the Suns took 2-0 leads over the Houston Rockets in the second round, only to succumb to the eventual champions in seven games. Kleine, who is not predisposed to flashy jewelry, still covets a championship ring.
Kleine formed fast friendships in Phoenix. (No cause was ever found for his fainting incident, although his teammates kiddingly clustered around him the next time the same musician, a trumpeter, was engaged to play the anthem.) Dan Majerle is a godfather to one of his children. Charles Barkley appreciated his unifying presence in a field of egos. After Kleine’s depressing vagabond season last year, Barkley called him all summer, urging him to stay in the game. Pestering him to come to Houston, in fact.
“When somebody like that, as great a player as he is, wants you on his team, it’s very flattering,” Kleine said.
Instead, Kleine will toil for another aging but formidable team. He comes not as a project but as a seasoned pro who by consensus is one of the best-liked players in the league.
“I have my Joe Kleine rule,” Reynolds said. “If you don’t like him, I have to wonder about you. If he doesn’t like someone, they’re probably a jerk.”
Kleine terms himself “very, very blessed.”
“When I start looking at my career and saying it could have been better, I think about how lucky I am to have three healthy kids,” he said. “If I was a great All-Star or one of the greatest players ever and I had a kid who was handicapped or ill, I’d trade it all to have a healthy kid.
“I’ve had a great run, a great career. Hopefully, it’s not over yet. I could’ve done better, but I could’ve done worse, too.”
