The 2004 NBA Draft marked the biggest influx of high school entries in league history, which resulted in a series of busts, unexpected gems and troublesome stories. Five years ago, the Orlando Magic agonized over the No. 1 pick with high school product Dwight Howard competing with UConn's Emeka Okafor over Orlando's affections. Howard was a rather unknown entity with an amazing body while Okafor just led the Huskies to the NCAA title and had established himself as the most dominant force in college basketball.
Whomever the Magic passed up would land in the lap of a new NBA team, the Charlotte Bobcats. Those two players appeared to be the only sure things in this draft. It was littered with early entries, unproven players and talented youngsters who might have bolted college a year too early. And making decisions more difficult was a slew of high school players who were years away from making an impact.
ORLANDO -- Jameer Nelson was headed into the locker room after the crushing, Game 5 defeat in the NBA Finals, not interested in watching the Los Angeles Lakers celebrate on his home court, not after he felt so helpless to stop them.
Yet teammate Dwight Howard pulled him back out, asked him to watch alongside him, so they could share the pain of defeat, so that maybe they could turn it into incentive this summer.
It's something he'll remember.
"It hurts. It's tough, but Dwight wanted me to be there with him to see it,'' he said. "I don't want this feeling again. Dwight wanted it to soak in. I wish I could have done more.''
ORLANDO -- They're as different as Yoda and Danny DeVito, the Grateful Dead and Weird Al Yankovic, a complete mismatch in wisdom and savvy and diamonds on their fingers. Just because Phil Jackson evokes the appearance of a half-asleep grandfather waiting for his Metamucil doesn't mean he isn't in complete control of his scene. And just because Stan Van Gundy is running around and howling like a crazed banshee doesn't mean he has a clue.
If the Lakers win another championship Sunday night, Game 5 of the NBA Finals might signify the end of Jackson's spiritual, never-boring adventure through coaching. Yet even as he stares down his 10th crown -- which would push him past one of his biggest critics, the late Red Auerbach, as the most decorated of all pro basketball coaches -- he keeps absorbing potshots from snipers who think he's cruising through a career as an opportunistic fraud.
ORLANDO -- Magic journeyman Anthony Johnson has been in the NBA 12 years, a former second-round pick from the obscure College of Charleston. He has scratched and clawed every step of the way, bouncing through 10 different teams with stops in the Development League and free agent summer camps in between.
He has had 10-day contracts and minimum wage contracts, never far from being outside looking in. He has been traded more than once for a cup of coffee and future consideration. Nothing has come easy.
It's why he thought this NBA Finals was going to be the highlight, the crowning moment of his career, coming on the heels of his most consistent, most satisfying season.
Instead, it was turned into the biggest disappointment of his life.
Magic coach Stan Van Gundy will stick with struggling Jameer Nelson as his backup point guard, despite laying the blame on him for allowing Derek Fisher to hit the 3-point basket at the end of regulation that sent Game 4 of the NBA Finals into overtime.
The Lakers won, 99-91, essentially ending Orlando's hopes of winning this series.
"Jameer had one responsibility on that play, and that was to not give Derek Fisher a 3-point shot,'' Van Gundy said Friday afternoon during a conference call with reporters. "I'm sure Jameer wishes he had that one back, or that he had played it differently.''
As Derek Fisher rightfully enjoys his time in the spotlight today, it's impossible to watch the replay of his overtime dagger last night without also noticing Kobe Bryant's right elbow connect with Jameer Nelson's chin. The blow sent Nelson sprawling to the floor just as the man he left to double team Bryant drained a wide-open (and ultimately game-winning) three.
ORLANDO -- It was a night when a veteran dismissed as old and inept proudly turned back time, a night when a man-child with 21 rebounds and nine blocked shots was the goat, a night when the well-coached team won and the team that executed horribly in critical moments lost. Sometimes, the slim difference between a champion and a wannabe funnels down to savvy, character, IQ, experience, all the traits that never seem cliche when it's past midnight in overtime and the studs are separating from the frauds.
After the Lakers blew out the Orlando Magic in Game 1 on Thursday, Orlando coach Stan Van Gundy recalled the Memorial Day Massacre of 1985, when the Celtics hammered the Lakers in the NBA Finals opener, only to lose go on and lose the series.
After a tough Game 2 loss on Sunday, Van Gundy reminisced about the 2006 Finals, when the Heat were down 2-0 to the Dallas Mavericks before going on to win four consecutive games and the championship.
If the Magic lose tonight, Van Gundy won't have a historical template to bring up. No team has ever come back from a 3-0 Finals deficit. With that in mind, here are five questions heading into Tuesday night's Game 3:
LOS ANGELES -- Late Sunday night in a corner of the cramped visitor's locker room in the bowels of cavernous Staples Center, Magic big man Dwight Howard was slumped back on a stool slowly stroking his face with one hand. His point guard Jameer Nelson sat on a stool next to him looking like The Thinker, his left elbow on left and his chin in his left hand. Their pensive look permeated the room, and it was understandable.
FanHouse fixes a decade of draft-day blunders in Revisiting the NBA Draft.
ORLANDO -- 
ORLANDO -- They're as different as Yoda and Danny DeVito, the Grateful Dead and Weird Al Yankovic, a complete mismatch in wisdom and savvy and diamonds on their fingers. Just because 
ORLANDO -- Magic journeyman 
ORLANDO – We all should have seen this one coming, especially after Stuff had a better warmup than 
After the 
LOS ANGELES -- Late Sunday night in a corner of the cramped visitor's locker room in the bowels of cavernous Staples Center, Magic big man 
