SACRAMENTO, Calif. -- What they say about Omri Casspi in his native Israel is true. He will drive miles for a good plate of hummus.
And he loves to run and dunk. And he agitates opponents with his sly, quick hands and appetite for physical contact. And he isn't afraid to take big shots, and when he falters, subject himself to animated public floggings.
But what they didn't say -- what no one could predict with certainty -- was that the Kings' rookie would carry his country along for the historic ride, and not only shoulder the weight, but withstand the additional burden caused by the recent scandal ensnaring Israeli basketball.
A suicide. A government investigation. Possible tax evasion. Allegations that former Maccabi Tel Aviv team manager Moni Fanan ran an illegal investment scheme on the side, losing millions and embroiling players, coaches, high-ranking sports executives and possibly referees in a tawdry, ongoing affair.
Meanwhile, halfway around the globe, Casspi has accomplished the following: Forced his way into Paul Westphal's rotation. Influenced the Kings' surprising 5-4 start. Helped his brother, Eitan, improve his English. Inspired Maccabi partisans in the wee small hours.
"Omri has been a shining light given the whole atmosphere of basketball right now in our country," said Eran Soroka, the premier NBA writer for the Israeli newspaper Maariv. "We are getting up at 5 a.m. to watch the games, and when Omri does something good, it's all over the TV and newspapers."
Pressure? Nah, no pressure. Casspi, a former Maccabi star and the first Israeli to play in the league, says his text messages number in the thousands. His cell phone is overloaded. He intently monitors the Israeli scandal, known as "MoniGate," while maintaining an emotional distance.
"It's terrible," Casspi says, shaking his head. "Moni was a dear friend, a father figure to us. But I just have to worry about the Kings and becoming the best player I can. And I'll tell you ... it's hard. The games come so quick, the travel, practice. In Europe you only play twice a week."
His style remains that of fluid chaos, but this is not the same player who last July stumbled through the Las Vegas Summer League. Then, he sucked wind after a few laps. Then, he lacked strength. Then, he committed so many ballhandling mistakes that Westphal labeled him "a turnover machine."
Lanky and light-afoot at 6-foot-9 and 225 pounds, Casspi, 21, not only heard the message, he rushed into the gym. And stayed there. A week at the Kings practice facility. Three weeks at David Thorpe's camp in Orlando. Two more weeks working with the coaches before training camp, absorbing information and capitalizing on the superior training facilities.
"The NBA is a discovery," said Kings special assistant Pete Carril. "It's like discovering America."
Before the Kings could shout Christopher Columbus, their rookie small forward raced into the future. Most effective when the Kings share the ball, he sinks three-pointers. He poaches passes. He confuses basketball with a track meet, sprinting 94 feet and high-jumping for rebounds and loose balls.
His demeanor is expressive, emotional, transparent. He unwittingly shares all his secrets. When he misses a shot, he slaps his thigh, his dark, intense eyes flashing with anger. When he bursts downcourt for a dunk or steals a pass, he breaks into a wide, pleased grin. When he clanks two free throws, he is pure misery.
Mostly, though, he is encouraged. And he has plans. He is thinking about getting a dog, starting a charitable foundation, creating a Web site to accommodate his fans. "People are contacting me on Facebook to find out where to buy my jersey," he says, incredulous. "I want to get the information out there. Sometimes it gets crazy. I am just trying to learn, to take it all in. People are counting on me."
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