Columnist Dean Juipe: Ego fuels need for an entourage

Dean Juipe

Wednesday, April 26, 2000 | 10:11 a.m.

Dean Juipe's column appears Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. His boxing notebook appears Thursday. Reach him at juipe@lasvegassun.com or 259-4084.

There was a time when boxers were the only athletes that merited the status symbol of an entourage.

Today no egomaniacal athlete would be without one.

They're a fashionable excess, of course, and largely ornamental. But whenever an athlete is seen in public there's a good chance he'll be accompanied by two, three or 10 buddies who serve no apparent purpose aside from stroking their hero's skewed sense of importance.

The entourage is apt to include any number of would-be specialists. There may be an agent, a bodyguard, a chauffeur and a fitness guru, or they may all be nothing more than home-boy acquaintances of the celebrity.

While these hangers-on can provide a worthwhile buffer between the athlete and the general population, they can also be meddlesome and initiators of trouble. Such was the case this year in Kansas City when the "personal assistant" of kick returner Tamarick Vanover -- who once played with the Las Vegas Posse of the Canadian Football League -- was charged in connection with a nationwide car-theft ring. Vanover wasn't charged in the federal indictment yet his employer, the Kansas City Chiefs, quickly dropped him from their roster.

Vanover may or may not have learned a valuable lesson, which is to choose your friends wisely.

This very subject is topical in Las Vegas, where self-described "street agent" Nate Cebrun was arrested this week amid police reports that his apartment was occupied by a horde of basketball players; initially it was suspected one or more of the players was affiliated with UNLV.

Cebrun was arrested on a warrant from Alabama that accuses him of illegally funneling $2,500 to a former Auburn player, Chris Porter.

At the time of his arrest at least six new Chevy Tahoe sport-utility vehicles were in the parking lot outside his residence. Putting 2 and 2 together it can be presumed Cebrun had the wherewithal and, perhaps, the desire to make those vehicles available to athletes who later would feel indebted to him.

Cebrun has a long history of bending established NCAA rules, if not state laws, and would have to be on the short list of local persons who UNLV coach Bill Bayno would tell his players to avoid. Nonetheless, if the reports and police-provided information are accurate, Cebrun may have once again found a college player or two willing to invite him into their inner circle.

Perhaps coincidentally, UNLV coaches and players met Tuesday afternoon. Rest assured, Cebrun's name definitely came up, if for no other reason than to restate the obvious: It's risky to associate with him, even though it's a temptation when he comes bearing gifts.

A one-man entourage in many respects, Cebrun would say in his own defense that he provides a service and fulfills a need. Yet many others see him as nothing more than a pariah who ingratiates himself with an athlete before turning the relationship to his favor.

In that respect he's no better or worse than the majority of entourage pack rats, all of whom put a concerted effort into refining their angles.

They spend their time in pursuit of the golden goose, an occupation that has its own peculiar rewards.