Ruben Patterson is a machine. When he comes rip-roaring off the Sonics' bench, he sets himself in perpetual forward motion, propelling his 6'5", 224 lb. frame into the heart of the matter with an intensity that approaches sublime recklessness. His animation on the court is amazing--a paradoxical combination of control and chaos. Always moving toward the action. Always looking for the ball. Giving his opponent hell. Making the necessary second, third, fourth effort.Patterson is pure and furious determination. On offense: an almost indefensible force, hurling through a world of sweat and sneaker squeaks. On defense: a tenacious tracker, a gadfly with radar. Watch him drive inside, stomping and skying through the key or powering down the baseline-tightrope. Whether defenders get out of the way is irrelevant (though getting out of the way is certainly advisable); Patterson gets where he's going. (Michael Bradley wrote in Slam's NBA pre-season issue that "nobody wants to see Ruben Patterson in the open court.") It's not always pretty, and it's not always nice, but it works. As Napoleon Bonaparte famously said, "If you start to take the lane--take the lane." (Okay, he was talking about Vienna. But who cares?)

Much in the manner of his teammate Gary Payton, Patterson chooses to ignore physical limitations, opting instead to polish ambition into its own form of grace. What a fun, exciting player to watch.

Listen to these words by legendary Celtic guard Bob Cousy, from the chapter "Winning and Losing" in his book The Killer Instinct; they describe Patterson to a T: "My father gave me self-control in time of stress; my mother, the overdrive to succeed whatever the cost. I think you will find this dual personality in many successful people in any competitive profession. The obvious prerequisite for success in competition is an abundance of talent. But as you rise to higher levels you compete against other people who are equally talented. Then you need intensity, a killer instinct that impels you to keep going the extra mile to reach a goal when others slow down or stop.... On a basketball court I had that instinct. I would climb over anyone or anything to succeed, whatever the cost to me or anyone else... even during meaningless regular- season games I hoped that someone would knock me down, because I played better when I was angry."

The most impressive thing about Patterson, though, is his complete willingness to adjust and fine-tune his playing style to fit the overall requirements of the team. Coming into this season, it was hardly crucial that Patterson tweak anything in particular about his game; as far as the Sonics were concerned, I'm sure an unaltered continuation of his stellar efforts last year would have proved more than adequate. Not for Patterson, though. Take his free-throw shooting: With Patterson finding more and more success by pounding the ball in deep and drawing slaps and hacks from panicked defenders, he's waltzing with All-Star consistency to the foul line, eight or 10 times a game. Last season, his freebie shooting was serviceable, just an eyelash under 70 percent; currently, he's hitting 74 percent from the line, and around 78 percent since the coaching change. (Granted, Coach McMillan might have given Patterson the hint, but his improvement is, nonetheless, exceptional.) This kind of consistency at the line can provide the winning margin in close games--and it's going to be especially handy if the Sonics roll into the post-season.

Patterson is an invaluable asset, on and off the floor--fierce, focused, inspirational, and completely clutch. He automatically makes any team a better team. I'll bet the Lakers (HA! HA!) are just kicking themselves for letting this guy get away.

rick@thestranger.com