By Thomas Boswell
Wednesday, February 14, 2007

Eddie Jordan and Gilbert Arenas had a fuss. Those usually work out. Coaches need 30-point scorers. Point guards who play poor defense and take crazy shots need coaches who appreciate them. Brendan Haywood and Etan Thomas, on the other hand, have a two-year-long fistfighting feud. Those are pure poison. Until the Wizards' war at center ends, little good can happen.

Luckily for the Wizards, Coach Jordan and superstar Arenas like each other, as they should. They're basically a couple of sweethearts, Jordan with his sly humor and candor, Arenas with his endearing eccentricities like a million-dollar birthday party and "I'll drop 50 on you" quotes. After their straight-talk meeting Monday, with Jordan doing the yacking, things should work out fine.

Team captain Antawn Jamison's clubhouse credibility helps, too. "I put [Gilbert] in the closet and gave him a whipping," Jamison said after straightening out Agent Zero for second-guessing Jordan's coaching style in a loss on Sunday. So, as shellshocked as the Wizards are at the moment with Jamison injured, Arenas's frustrated outburst at Jordan and the coach shooting back at Arenas about lack of leadership, it should subside. Eddie and Gil, exchange valentines. Then be pals at the All-Star Game.

Usually, any flap between a coach and a fan-favorite superstar is the worst team-chemistry news that can befall an NBA squad. The Wizards, however, have a much bigger and longer-lasting problem that must be resolved. The team's two centers, both signed through the 2010 season, hate each other and don't even bother to hide it.

Haywood and Thomas have had at least three brawls at practice in two years, resulting in a suspension for each. Thomas's current self-inflicted TKO will keep him out of tonight's game in Philadelphia. This battle between Washington's little big men seldom ends and barely has truces. The pair bad-mouth each other in public, give each other the cold shoulder during games, sit apart, avoid eye contact -- the whole kindergarten program.

What a pathetic playground-politics spectacle. Both giants are in their sixth seasons, all as Wizards. They're as good as they're ever going to get. And their career stats tell it all: Haywood has averaged seven points and 5.7 rebounds, Thomas, 6.2 points and five rebounds. These guys, combined, barely average a double-double. Wilt's safe.

Yet for this combo production, 13.2 points per game this season, Thomas is getting $5.9 million and Haywood $4.5 million this season -- or nearly a million dollars per point a game. They toss in the fistfights for free. No pay-per-view charge to teammates. Of course, they only fight in practice, where it hurts the team the most. Once games start, peace breaks out. So Shaq's safe, too.

Fortunately, there's a solution. Haywood and Thomas simply need a reality check. But it will require a huge attitude adjustment because these delusional ego-trippers have turned NBA reality upside down. Somewhere, somehow, each man has become convinced that he would be a star -- if only that other jerk wasn't eating up his minutes.

Haywood and Thomas are not blocking each other's careers. They are enabling each other to have careers.

In reality, it is only as a tandem that they can enjoy rich careers with significant playing time for a winning team. If either were suddenly dropped onto the roster of a team with a quality center, he'd be reduced to backup in a heartbeat. Almost nowhere else would they receive the modest prominence they get as Wizards, with whom each man almost perfectly complements the other's weaknesses. Where else could a player like Haywood call himself a starting center, yet be third on his own team in rebounding? Thomas, with 11 assists this season, may be the least likely player in the NBA to help a teammate score a basket.

How can these guys fight? They should hug before every practice and have a beer after every game. They're making each other wealthy by disguising each other's inadequacies. Thomas can set a pick and Haywood can shoot a hook. But neither man could survive playing 35 minutes a night at center. Both have high shooting percentages only because they seldom shoot beyond point-blank range. Neither even makes 58 percent of his free throws. When either touches the ball, the offense comes to a halt.

On defense, tall centers simply shoot over the wide-bodied Thomas while strong pivot men push Haywood around. Neither averages even one assist or one steal per game. Together, they constitute one competent shot-blocker. The reason the pair can combine for about a dozen points and rebounds on most nights is because, when they're in the game, they can expend all their energy and seldom pace themselves. Each provides the other with the rest he needs to stay fresh.

Thomas has the heart of a center while Haywood has the classic 7-foot, 263-pound physique. On some planet, there may be a machine that could meld the two men. But none is available in Washington. So these two ludicrous combatants should wake up every day and give thanks that they have each other as teammates. No two players in the NBA, if they saw things clearly, would appreciate the other man more. But they don't get it. Five-plus seasons of competing for minutes has blinded them. To evaluate their own games, they look at their paychecks instead of watching game films or confronting the facts on the stat sheet.

Over the next four years, the Wizards will pay Thomas $26.5 million and Haywood $21 million. Which may explain why Haywood's elbows get frisky: Haywood is averaging 24.3 minutes per game to a mere 19.4 minutes for Thomas. Oh, the inequity.

To make matters worse, when Thomas and Haywood talk about their feud, they instantly mortify themselves. The least Haywood and Thomas can do is stop mortifying themselves with their playground comments about each other.

"I am trying to find my rhythm after missing a month with this ankle injury . . . and this cat decides to hit me with a cheap shot during practice and I reacted," said Thomas, trying to explain the pair's punch-out last week. "San Antonio just beat us by what seemed like a hundred but I guess all that matters to him is he didn't get the minutes he thinks he deserves, so he's mad, which results in a displacement of anger. Bottom line, I'm not putting up with any garbage from Brendan Todd Haywood."

Did Bill Russell worry where his rivals' "displaced their anger?" Did Kareem Abdul-Jabbar taunt competitors with their middle names? Besides, who's Thomas to talk? "Etan" is derived from King Akhenaton. (Honest.) Don't tell Haywood. He'll tease Thomas about worshipping the sun and start another brawl.

What makes this situation doubly ludicrous and unnecessary is that Haywood and Thomas are, in general, the opposite of problem players. The polished Haywood starred four seasons in the classy North Carolina program. The charitable Thomas writes poetry and is active in political organizations and the American Civil Liberties Union.

The Wizards may not be a wonderful team, but they are an entertaining and winning one. Their key, when they're playing well, is that every player is wonderfully suited to his role. Jamison and Caron Butler can score 40 points between them, not 30 or 35, because teams must defend Arenas first. Antonio Daniels and DeShawn Stevenson are veterans delighted to be complementary players.

Only Haywood and Thomas fail to grasp their place in the scheme of things. If they don't fix their feud, the Wizards will ultimately end up getting rid of one of them. Whoever leaves will become an obscure backup center someplace else. And whoever stays will, after being exposed by too many minutes against superior opponents, end up as a backup center here.

The oldest story in sports: win together or lose alone. Which will it be?