Alonzo Mourning burst into basketball as sympathetic as a tsunami, biceps bulging, eyes as wide as quarters, a basketball menace spitting out a rare fervor and ferocity. He was a bad-ass Georgetown center, enraged and enlightened on Hoya Paranoia, the man with air tanks of anger strapped to his back. 'Zo Mourning was mayhem in high-tops. Always, he was something to see.

	Alonzo Mourning came up big in his comeback last season.

Peel back the layers, the rage, and there turned out to be someone soft and sensitive within Mourning. Beyond the brainwashing of John Thompson and Pat Riley, the basketball warrior gave us his best when he stopped swinging for Larry Johnson and started swinging on his kidney condition. Out of nowhere two years ago, Riley walked into the Heat's locker room and instructed, "Keep Alonzo in your prayers."

This time, Riles does it again. Only, this time, it's no surprise. It seemed inevitable. Mourning's kidney disorder looks like it could cost him the 2002-03 season. And possibly his career. Eventually, he could need dialysis and possibly a transplant. He proved his point a season ago, returning to the Heat for 75 games and reaching the All-Star game against all odds. His toughness is unquestioned, his determination unparalleled in basketball.

His doctors know best, but maybe Mourning should rest now. His publicist says he's not retiring, but maybe Mourning should ease the burden on his body, retire and make sure he doesn't cost himself a moment of tomorrow with his wife, Tracey, and two children. The doctors were so encouraged with his condition over the summer, but it rapidly regressed. Again. Mourning has nothing left to prove but this: that he can live a long, healthy life.

These past two years, he had grown to hate his trips to the doctors. He uses the word "petrified," because he feared what the physicians will tell him. Once more, his fears were founded. His body has betrayed him again. It's hard to see him this way, so frightening to watch the biggest, baddest center reduced to something frail and fragile.

Yet, the way he's constructed a foundation and raised more than $3 million, the way he's posed for public service announcements with Sean Elliott, the way he's tried to educate the masses and ease the burden of kids sharing his disorder, well, understand: Mourning has never stood taller, never stronger, than now.

As much as Mourning believes he needs basketball, it needs him far more. The game is too low on professionals these days, too low on complete talents with four years of college, with perspective and intelligence and most of all, with professionalism. 'Zo is a pro. He plays the right way: all the time, relentless. He makes himself accountable for winning and losing. He did some foolish things as a kid in the NBA, but he moved past the nonsense. He's a basketball player out of a different era, sculpted in the manner of the Wes Unselds and Moses Malones. At 6-foot-10, he played center, but he was best suited to be a power forward. Indeed, Mourning was all power.

So, yes, everyone praised Riley for refusing to relent when the Heat started last season 5-23, but the inspiration for the revival to respectability was Mourning. He had played just 13 games in 2000-01, but Mourning made his way back a season ago. He wasn't his old self, but he had to exert more than ever to measure just a fraction of his greatness.

Riley planned a news conference on Friday in Miami, where the Heat emperor was going to tell everyone Mourning is out of the lineup again. Two years ago, Riley gathered his players in the locker room, stunning everyone when he implored them to "Keep Alonzo in your prayers."

This time, no one is stunned. No one is surprised. Alonzo Mourning is sick.

The doctors don't see his kidneys getting better, just worse. 'Zo is so big, so strong, it makes it even harder to see. Nevertheless, he's made tens of millions in the NBA, seven All-Star teams and delivered his share of division championships. It would have been wonderful for him to win a title, but it just never happened. There's no shame there. This was a good challenge for him, but a bigger one awaits.

Mourning loves basketball, loves to compete, but you just pray he can walk out of the game without risking his wellness.

Adrian Wojnarowski is a columnist for The Record (N.J.) and a regular contributor to ESPN.com. He can be reached at ESPNWoj@aol.com.