Wizards' Buzzword: Winning

The team official is asked to identify the biggest-name celebrity to attend a Wizards game this season. Tim Russert? Cal Ripken? Bow Wow?

"Jon Secada," the man says. "He sang at halftime of Latino promotion night."

Jon Secada?

They're trying, at least.

Now that the product on the court is clearly in good shape, now that the coach is safe and the locker room is happy and self-policed -- now that the Wizards have hope -- it's time to take stock of the only quotient that truly matters in the NBA: buzz.

Does this team have sufficient enough intrigue to touch a town's hot button and maybe a nation's?

This is worth asking for two reasons: First, TNT came to town for the first time in 20 months last night, showing the Wizards love like they have not seen since Michael Jordan's last season. Washington-Seattle, added to TNT's docket last month, actually pre-empted Detroit-Memphis. It was the first time the post-Jordan Wizards played on national television. ("We dumped the defending NBA champions tonight for the Wizards," Craig Sager, the TNT sideline reporter, was telling Brendan Haywood and Samaki Walker before the game. To which Walker replied, "Damn, Sager. What's up with the boring gray slacks? I thought you'd break out something a little more colorful for us." You've got to love a team concerned about fashion moments before tipoff.)

And, second, since Jordan left, the Wizards have been more neglected than George Mason University. Up until two months ago, they were a blip on the District radar, much closer to UDC than Joe Gibbs's team or even Maryland, which, with every NCAA tournament run, has ostensibly become Washington's second pro team.

During Jordan's last two seasons with the Wizards, it was not uncommon to see Bill Clinton in an MCI Center luxury box. Vivica Fox, Alex Rodriguez or Mike Tyson might sit courtside. After Jordan, James Carville and New Edition pass for royalty.

"And when Jordan was here, that was all about Michael," Antawn Jamison said last month. "See, they came to see one player, one person. It was just a show about him. This is about the Wizards."

The building rose and applauded loudly last night, after they closed out the Sonics, 107-96. In a year of 6-10 pro football teams and a hockey lockout, the Wizards suddenly have a window to showcase their ability to entertain, to catch a fan base's fancy.

They're not a bona fide water-cooler team yet, maybe because Washington hoopheads are jaded by the franchise's recent historical gaffes. After they put all their energy and belief into Chris Webber and Juwan Howard and that 1997 playoff team that dueled Jordan's Bulls in three pulsating games -- and then imploded -- it's understandable. No one wants to get burned again by promise and potential, especially the way they were burned by that crew.

They're almost afraid to fall in love again.

"You walk around town, you feel that," Gilbert Arenas said. "They're still waiting, they're kind of holding back, waiting to see us get a couple more wins like this. You can tell D.C. wants to brag about us, but they're waiting and lingering until they feel like we're actually worth bragging about."

But there have been moments when the possibilities take root, such as last week against Detroit. The last two minutes of a taut game against the Pistons, they stood and chanted, "De-fense!" They groaned when the Wizards blew a double-digit lead and lost a thriller. They cared. In late December.

"It reminded me of the Garden, Dad," Rebecca Grunfeld told her father, Ernie, the Wizards' president of basketball operations. The Grunfelds were there for many a big night at Madison Square Garden throughout the 1990s, when the cynicism of old-time Knicks fans died as their team kept winning.

One of the main reasons people talk about the Wizards' potential for buzz now is the stop-and-pop games of their stars, as if a high-octane playing style puts people in the stands and makes children in the suburbs and the city buy the jerseys of Jamison, Arenas and Larry Hughes. That helps. Certainly the Sacramento Kings of Webber and Jason Williams and now Mike Bibby have an aesthetic cache; they play a passing, beautiful brand of basketball that lures the casual fan toward the television and the arena.

But, as those unsightly Knicks teams proved, winning is the key, closing out a team with a better record by any means necessary. A forearm to the abdomen. A hard foul instead of a layup. A mental toughness that translates to working the shot clock, rather than chucking it up from 22 feet with 20 seconds with which to work. And knocking down a crucial three-pointer, like Jamison did last night with 4 minutes 25 seconds left to push the lead to 12.

Or that scintillating dunk that Hughes threw down with 1:40 left. Hughes has been on a tear lately, taking and making almost every big shot needed by the Wizards.

Last night, he, Jamison and Arenas did their usual thing, combining for 67 points in an unselfish showing of grace and grit. The trio is on track to become the first threesome since Chris Mullin, Tim Hardaway and a young Mitch Richmond all averaged 20 points for the Golden State Warriors. Before Run TMC in the early 1990s, you have to go back to the Denver Nuggets of Alex English, Kiki Vandeweghe and Dan Issel in the 1980s.

All three are up for all-star consideration. Shaquille O'Neal, Allen Iverson, Grant Hill, Vince Carter and LeBron James have the starting votes from fans almost locked up. After giving the benefit of the doubt to Stephon Marbury, Paul Pierce and Dwyane Wade, it might be hard for either Hughes or Arenas to crack the guard mix. Jamison may be the only lock, which would be a nice reward after toiling away for those lottery-bound Golden State teams.

Either way, they have the makings of real theater now, attracting congressmen, entertainers and their athletic peers to their games. Who knows? The Wizards keep winning, Jon Secada might come back. Bring back the B-list, baby.