Love, tears sure to flow for Mailman

Proving again that time heals all wounds, Karl Malone will be honored Thursday night in the Delta Center.

In one long love fest, Malone will have a statue of his likeness unveiled and his jersey officially retired, and then the man of the hour will say a few words. Just for old times' sake, he'll immediately ask for a new contract, offer to kick Greg Ostertag in his hind quarters and sink a fade-away 18-foot jump shot.

The love and Larry Miller's tears are sure to flow, although some of the latter might be from fans wondering why they had to pay for tickets at twice the usual rate.

Miller and Jazz fans are either very forgiving or have short memories, if not a case of amnesia. But that's the way it always was during Malone's 18 years here.

Malone could lambaste Salt Lake City for, say, not asking him to be a radio DJ or to carry the Olympic torch into Rice-Eccles Stadium; he could make his almost annual request for a new contract; he could turn his anger on Miller, his loyal owner, father figure, benefactor and business partner; he could miss critical free throws and get his pocket picked by Michael Jordan in the NBA Finals; in short, he could infuriate fans.

But it never seemed to matter. He was always welcomed back with open arms and loud ovations because fans are suckers for someone who can score, run the floor, defend, rebound, work hard in the off-season and play hard every night.

What's a guy have to do to wear out his welcome? Malone capped his career by dashing off to the Lakers to try to coat-tail his way to a championship. That was difficult enough to accept, but while he was there Malone ripped the Jazz franchise, vowing "never ever" to forgive the Jazz and calling the Jazz organization "cowards."

Now Salt Lake City is naming a street after him, and the Jazz are raising his jersey to the rafters and placing an 18-foot Malone statue outside the D.C.

Let's just hope Malone shows up from his Arkansas home — wait, didn't he say he was going to live in Utah the rest of his life? — in a good mood this time. If there's one thing we've learned, it's that Malone and a microphone are a dicey combination, if not an English teacher's nightmare.

A little more than a year ago, he turned his retirement press conference from a sentimental farewell to an angry therapy session in which he aired all his vague, old, nonsensical gripes and pretty much invited his detractors to a brawl.