By Thomas Boswell
Washington Post Columnist
Friday, November 18, 1994

If it wasn't for good luck, the Bullets wouldn't have no luck at all.

Never thought you'd live to hear those lyrics, did you?

Now we know the answer to the question: How long can the Bullets' luck stay bad? Answer: Until Nov. 17, 1994, the day Chris Webber and Juwan Howard became Bullets. Can we decorate that new downtown arena in maize and blue, please?

Maybe, someday, we'll look back on this date and say it made up for all the Bullets' defeats of the 1980s, all the lottery balls that didn't come up "Bullets" and, maybe, even for 100 years of watching Tiny The Mascot chase that ball.

The day Jimmy Lynam became coach was important. The day that Kevin Duckworth decided to enter the Duke University weight loss program mattered, too. And the day Scott Skiles fell out of the sky like a gift was vital.

But nothing in the Bullets' tattered history has matched yesterday's shenanigans since the championship days of Wes and Elvin. You'll have to excuse local fans if they walk around for a few games chanting a new mantra: "Chris Webber, Juwan Howard, Don MacLean, Calbert Cheaney, Rex Chapman." Their ages: 21, 21, 23, 24 and 27. That's not just a starting lineup. It's a future.

"This is the team you're going to see for the immediate future and probably the long-term future too," said General Manager John Nash.

Nobody's complaining, John. That's what one huge trade -- Webber for Tom Gugliotta, plus draft picks -- and the signing of a highly touted first-round draft pick can do to change a town's perception of a team and a franchise's perception of itself.

Nash, like any Bullets fan, could hardly contain himself, saying that Webber could become "a franchise player" and that he had the potential to become as historic a power forward as Shaquille O'Neal might become a legendary center.

Occasionally, Nash would remember that Webber is an awful free throw shooter and that his powerhouse inside game needs years of additional polish. Winning rookie of the year last season is wonderful but, like Karl Malone and Charles Barkley before him, Webber must add a full 10 points and several rebounds per game to his first-year averages to be truly great.

Mostly, however, Nash just kept drooling -- stylishly, mind you, but continuously. "Webber has a huge talent as well as a huge physique. He's already a terrific basketball player. But with continued hard work, he'll get so much better. He's only 21!"

As for Howard, he's basically expected to develop into a stats duplicate of Gugliotta: 16-to-18 points and 8-to-10 rebounds, plus smart, unselfish play.

Two weeks ago, the Bullets were a joke. Two days ago, they were a comeback team that might become decent. Right now, the Bullets are a bona fide, worth-your-dollar NBA team. And there's no reason they won't get better for years.

In training camp, the Bullets played so badly you'd give their tickets away to your paper boy. This was a team which, for a dozen years, had been unlucky or wrong every time it moved. "Bullets" was a conversation killer.

Now, if you call the Bullets, you may wait on hold for two days to buy a season ticket. We saw this happen three years ago in Camden Yards. It's called a fan feeding frenzy. There may not be an empty seat in USAir Arena the rest of this century. "Come on, there'll always be tickets. We still play the Timberwolves," said president Susan O'Malley.

Just wait, Ms. President. When you do things wrong, or you seem snake-bitten, as the Bullets have for years, people stay away in droves. Because they're smart. Why spend your entertainment time and money to be depressed? But if a team does something spectacularly right, if its owner spends money, if its general manager is smart enough and lucky enough to land a young superstar at a discount, people wake up.

The transformation takes exactly two minutes. At 5:59, the Bullets' ticket office was a busy place as rumors ran around the city. At 6:01, after John Nash and Abe Pollin had gone on local TV to announce the dynamic duo's arrival, phones rang in every corner of the same offices. I heard a salesman say: "That'll be roughly $1,200. We can iron it out later." Hey, he had to answer that next call he had sitting on hold.

So many bad things have happened to the poor bedeviled Bullets for so long that it's hard to believe how fast a team's mood can change. Why, I haven't seen a front office this excited since the Orioles got Glenn Davis. Unless, of course, it was the Redskins the afternoon they drafted Heath Shuler.

By and large, the Bullets deserved to have this Big Deal day work out well. They've endured the appetites of Ledell Eackles and John Williams. They've bitten their tongues as old stars turned into bitter, destructive locker room complainers. They've watched others hit the top-pick-overall lottery -- even back-to-back. Wouldn't it simply be too unfair for the Fab Friends to fizzle?

Now, the Bullets finally have their No. 1-overall cornerstone. They just got him in a ' roundabout way, thanks to Webber's feud with Warriors Coach Don Nelson.

Many times in the past decade circumstances have conspired to cast the Bullets in their worst possible light. Yesterday was just the opposite. Pollin's gentle, befriending style appealed to both Webber and Howard, by all accounts. No NBA owner has been so genuinely close to so many players. Like his charity work, that's the real Pollin. Off the court, both Webber and Howard have a bit of Wes Unseld about them. In Washington, that's high praise.

As for Nash, he'll eat for free in this town forever. The Orioles' Phil Regan isn't the only Vulture in these parts. Nash circled the Orlando Magic when they were forced to dump Skiles to make cap room for Horace Grant. What a steal. Now, in a league where huge trades are incredibly difficult to construct, he completed a blockbuster that's also a mind twister. Nash can tell you all about the 1996, 1998 and 2000 draft picks he included in the trade. But, believe me, you wouldn't understand.

"It helps to be a 'cap-ologist,'" said Nash, grinning at the intricacies of salary slots and restricted free agents. "I want Abe to think it's very confusing so he'll think I'm indispensable."

Howard has yet to prove anything in the NBA. Webber has yet to prove that he can mature from rookie star to all-star. But, after yesterday, Nash has little left to prove to anybody. If general managers had a box score line, Nash's line in the paper this morning would read: 45 points and 24 rebounds. Because that's about how many points and rebounds Webber and Howard will probably give the Bullets every night in just a couple of years.