Anita Darling wrote:

So how many years did you play in the WNBA?

Actually many could and many need ending contracts or his talent to up a
level.

Likely he would prefer Knicks but it will not be his choice.

Actually a pretty good Idea on Philly for 'Sheed if the 76ers could hack
having his mother around... his music business is there and more importantly
as well as having played under Mo he is 'Sheed's very close friend.

Funny story Mo tells on himself about being afraid of 'Sheed when he came to
Portland....
===========

It is Mo's first job as hhead coach. It has not come about without an
element of fear.
Nearly two months into the season, he had to confront the biggest obstacle
of this job.

His name was Rasheed Wallace. And how Cheeks dealt with him could make or
break this season.

At 6-foot-11 3/4, Wallace is an imposing figure. With a free-wheeling,
jovial
spirit that can be replaced in an instant with a caustic tongue,
hair-trigger temper, and steely stare, the Blazers forward can be both
unpredictable and intimidating.

Cheeks, by contrast, is as soft-spoken and unassuming as they come. The 6-1
former point guard would "do more observing than talking" while growing up,
his high school friend Roy Blasingame said.

So when Cheeks was hired, many wondered if he could be authoritative enough
to handle Wallace and the rest of the moody and impetuous Blazers. As a
matter of fact, Cheeks wondered himself.

The answer came Dec. 13 in Salt Lake City.

During afternoon practice, Cheeks was still seething inside from a
disappointing loss two nights earlier in Dallas. He didn't like what he
termed "certain things that happened on the court" from Wallace in that
game.

It was a familiar complaint. Wallace's oncourt behavior had long been a
problem.

So here Cheeks was, 20 games into his first season as a head coach with a
defining moment in front of him. Would he be soft, or would he establish his
authority?

He didn't know it was going to be a "moment" -- it wasn't planned. But
surprising even himself, Cheeks admonished Wallace in front of the team.

It came down to drawing on instincts, first developed by a decade on the
playground of the Robert Taylor Homes, later honed during a 15-year NBA
career.

"I was scared . . . scared as hell, scared out of my wits," Cheeks recalled.
"I didn't act like I was scared, and no one knew I was scared, and no one
knew how he would react. But I did it."

In the middle of his tirade, he realized who he was dealing with. He
redirected his ire at another player. But then he came back to the person he
believed needed it most: Wallace.

Co-captain Damon Stoudamire remembers the hard-hitting diatribe.

"Maurice challenged him and said we pretty much need it from you every night
if we want to win games," Stoudamire said. "He said we need you focused."

After the smoke cleared, nothing happened.
Then Wallace playfully sauntered over to Cheeks, trying to hide a grin.
"And in a teasing way, he said, "You ain't doin' that stuff no more,' "
Cheeks said.

Wallace repeated it twice during practice and again when the players boarded
the bus to head back to the hotel.

"He teased me about it," Cheeks said, "and we moved on and became friends."

The message had been sent. Cheeks could lower the hammer. And Wallace could
more than
take it.