Ricky Rubio carries a Justin Bieber backpack. Follow him for a week, and you wonder whether it should be the other way around.
Rubio wears Bieber because of rookie hazing. He has shrugged at the indignity much as he shrugged off the challenges of turning professional when he was 14, emigrating from Spain and commanding an NBA team as the Timberwolves point guard at 21.
From March 5 to March 9, Rubio's schedule demonstrated the demands placed on a popular young star living in a strange city, and the joys and pains any athlete can experience on any successive days.
Monday, he orchestrated a one-point victory over the Los Angeles Clippers, then entertained a couple dozen countrymen. Friday, he lay on his back in Target Center, clutching his left knee.
Between ecstasy and agony, Rubio played host to his mother, his agent and his best friends, worked on his shooting, got mobbed at the Taste of the Timberwolves, played three games, was stalked in his off hours by concentric rings of PR flacks, television cameras and writers, and rallied a crowd before signing autographs at Ridgedale Center.
Rubio's injury ended his season as he was becoming Minnesota's most endearing athlete, but it made him no less compelling as part exchange student, part heartthrob, part basketball exotica. This is what life was like if you were Rubio during a workaday week in early March of your first NBA season, when seemingly every Minnesotan wanted to steal a lock of your moptop:
Monday night
After Rubio guides the Wolves to a victory over the Clippers, he joins a group of Spanish coaches who make yearly treks to the States.