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Marbury Counts Jeter's Rings, Not Dollars

NJ Star Ledger, January 20, 2000

by Mike Vaccaro

NEW YORK -- Before he was lured for keeps into the family business, carrying the Marbury name into professional basketball's sacred pantheon, Donald and Mabel Marbury's second-youngest child dabbled a bit on the baseball fields of Coney Island.

He was a pitcher, of course, since young Stephon always wanted the ball in his hands as much as possible, regardless of the sport.

Had a pretty good curveball, too, for a 14-year-old.

Until one afternoon, trying to sneak that big bender past another helpless teenage batter, when he was horrified to see what happens when a pitch arrives fat, inviting and belt-high, appalled at the sight of someone taking him deep, way deep, then enjoying himself on a triumphant tour of the basepaths.

"That day," he said, stroking his chin, "I became a basketball player full time."

Mostly, that has turned out to be a splendid career move, although somebody pointed out to him that there's no salary cap in professional baseball, not for now, not for the foreseeable future.

Marbury chuckled.

"Yeah," he said. "I saw that. How about that?"

Of course Marbury had seen the news, seen that Derek Jeter, his fellow office worker at YankeeNets LLC, was about to scribble his name at the bottom of a seven-year, $118 million contract, making him the highest-paid player in baseball history.

Marbury's seen the bank broken up close before, when former Timberwolves teammate Kevin Garnett make the last great score of the pre-lockout NBA. This was different, though. Marbury has watched Jeter from afar for all of the shortstop's four years as a major-leaguer, a period that has paralleled Marbury's own professional ascent. He's seen Jeter grow into one of the sport's great ambassadors and one of its brightest stars.

But beyond that, he has marveled as Jeter assembled a collection of championship rings that may well be the envy of every athlete in America by the time he's through. Marbury attended Game 3 of the World Series last year -- "The one where we were behind," he said, utilizing the corporate second person, "and then Chad Curtis hit the home run" -- and was mesmerized by the light and thunder of the frenzied October night. That stayed with him.

And so did seeing Jeter up close: so cool, so brilliant, so successful. So young.

"I see a lot of similarities between the two of us because we've both worked hard to get where we've gotten, and we both know that the only thing that matters at all is winning," Marbury said last night.

In a few hours, he would have the ball and the game in his hands, the Nets trailing, 90-89, Madison Square Garden hushed and anxious, knowing how capable he was of turning the final six seconds of the game into a disaster for the home team.

Of course, the script never works out as it should for the Nets, so instead of lancing the Knicks' hearts in his first Garden appearance wearing Jersey blue, Marbury instead left the court laughing and talking to himself after getting knocked around like a pinball on a final drive to the hole, throwing up a wild circus shot and hearing no whistle.

"We've both set high goals for ourselves," Marbury had said of Jeter before the game. "But the difference is, he's achieved those goals already. And not just once, either."

Jeter has rarely seen the kind of ending Marbury absorbed last night. Every few days in the summertime, he is taking the extra base, hitting the key home run, sliding into the hole to start the important double play that makes certain the Yankees win another ballgame.

Marbury notices. For when he watches Jeter, he sees everything he wants out of his life and his career. They are both remarkably precocious; Jeter is 25, Marbury turns 23 next month. They are both grounded by the pulls and affections of strong families. They both play demanding positions and revel in the responsibilities. And they both spend endless hours of anonymous toil trying to better themselves even more.

The difference, for now, is a matter of hardware, jewelry and circumstance: three rings to zero. Thirty-five playoff victories to two. The most decorated franchise in American history and one of the most derided.

"Jeter definitely has a certain karma and a certain aura around him," Nets coach Don Casey said. "He works like crazy, and it shows. Steph's the same way. He buries himself in his work. He watches more videotape than a lot of coaches I know, always watching out-of-town games."

Told that Marbury was spotted courtside at the St. John's-Seton Hall game Tuesday night, seated just behind the Red Storm bench, Casey grinned.

"See what I mean?" he said. "He loves the game with a passion that's rare among young players. The other guy, Jeter, he's exactly the same way."

But the other guy, Jeter, normally has a more jovial assemblage around his locker than the one Marbury had last night, 15 minutes after the final, failed drive.

Marbury had his head buried in his hands as reporters gathered round, then rattled off four consecutive "No comments" as he was asked about everything from the no-call to the wide-open Johnny Newman whom he ignored at the end.

"This has to stop," he whispered at last. "It's frustrating. We keep getting close but we have to get over the hump. This isn't good enough. This isn't good enough at all."

It's the same kind of answer Derek Jeter, his corporate associate, the other pillar of the YankeeNets empire, might provide. If he ever had a reason to.