Cut Whaley and cut your losses, Jazz

Is anyone really shocked that Robert Whaley was lying — including the Jazz? Is anyone surprised he had another brush with the law? That his cut hand wasn't really the result of a "kitchen accident?" That this year's high-risk project is turning out to be a bad risk?

Some people just can't stay away from their problems. Thus, this week, Whaley reaffirmed a longstanding adage regarding problem athletes — avoiding them is usually the best policy. The Jazz should have released him as soon as they learned he lied about being involved in a disturbance a week ago at a Park City club. They should have sent a message that when they use terms like "short leash" and "low tolerance," they mean it.

Trouble finds trouble.

The Jazz haven't heard the last of Whaley's problems.

As supporting evidence, consider Luther Wright. He was the Jazz's first-round draft pick in 1993. A 7-foot center from Seton Hall, he had soft hands, a smooth shot and a playful temperament. Yet he proved a colossal mistake.

Whaley, too, has size, skills and a likable personality. And he, too, was a mistake. The difference between Wright and Whaley, though, is Wright didn't have a known history when he arrived. The Jazz say they were never told beforehand about his bipolar issues and other problems. In January 1994 he was arrested at a truck stop near Tooele, banging garbage cans and terrorizing motorists.

Whaley, on the other hand, already had a well-documented record — a statutory rape charge that ended in a mistrial in 2000; assault charges stemming from a 2003 fight while he was at junior college; disciplinary and academic woes with his college coach at Cincinnati.

So when the Jazz drafted him last summer in the second round, they made a point to say he would be closely monitored.

In Wright's case, the Jazz quickly learned he had issues. He was kicked out of the circus at the Delta Center for causing a disturbance before he'd ever played in a NBA game. He missed his flight on the first road trip of his NBA career, claiming he was stuck in traffic. In one of the most infamous days in Jazz history, Wright — whose agent claimed his client had taken a wrong dosage of prescription Ritalin — tried to smuggle a puppy onto a plane and ended up playing drums in the Houston Rockets' band during warm-ups. Later that night he was discovered near Tooele. The full explanation of Mr. Wright's Wild Ride has never been given. But this much is certain: He was released the next fall during training camp.