NBA teams love and hate these predraft affairs. The temptation can be overpowering, overwhelming and irresistible, if occasionally only fleeting.

Take Jimmer Fredette, for instance. By the time he finished his 90-minute set Thursday at Power Balance Pavilion – shooting, passing and scoring against mostly taller, longer opponents – the Kings bosses were reaching for the tissues.

They weren't sobbing, they were salivating.

Geoff Petrie. Paul Westphal. Bobby Jackson. Gavin Maloof. Was there anyone in the Kings' private audience who didn't rush over to shake the kid's hand? Who didn't hover, as if what they really wanted to do was ask for an autograph?

OK, so Pete Carril remained in his courtside seat. The legend is a little old for the rock star stuff.

But whoever drafts Fredette gets the rock star stuff. Already, as the former BYU star auditions around the league, he is attracting larger-than-usual media crowds and is accompanied by a production crew documenting his experiences. YouTube, Twitter, Facebook. The man is a social networker extraordinaire.

Imagine the clicks.

Imagine the ticket sales.

Imagine if he can play.

"I competed hard, shot decent," Fredette said after competing with five other prospects. "The main thing I want is to come in and show I can play defense at this level. I thought I did a pretty good job overall. They (Kings officials) congratulated me. They said I could really play and said I was going to have a good career in this league."

The official word is mum's the word, of course. NBA executives tend to stretch the truth more than a little and implement misdirection plays they believe further their advantage. The last thing they want is for draft day opponents to know whom they like, and most importantly, whom they want.

But back to the need for that box of tissues, to the reasons Fredette suddenly is complicating life for the Kings, and to what journalists witnessed when the viewing curtain was raised.

Specifically, and noting again that the workout was conducted in a controlled setting against late first- or second-round prospects, he was both appealing and impressive.

He shot with range, and the Kings need shooting. He had a swagger about him, and the Kings need leadership. He executed pick-and-rolls, passed ahead on the break, directed the offense … and the Kings desperately need a facilitator.

He made plays, beat defenders with floaters, à la Mark Jackson, and sliced to the basket. And because of his long arms and wide shoulders, he projects bigger than his official measurements (a tad under 6-foot-1 at the draft combine in Chicago).

Yet again, drafters beware. The lottery is an appropriately named close-your-eyes and say-your-prayers crapshoot. It's impossible to know whether Fredette can adjust from shooting guard to floor leader, whether he has the quickness to reach to the rim, whether he can get his shot against long, athletic defenders, and mostly, whether he can defend opposing point guards.

"Defense, that's the biggest question," acknowledged Fredette, 22, who plans visits to Phoenix and his adopted hometown of Salt Lake City. "My job is to prove them wrong, play defense within the system and be a good player in this league. I'm working as hard as I can and going in like I have something to prove."

The Kings noticed. Immediately after the session, Petrie walked to Fredette and shook his hand. Westphal, who dined with the high-profile prospect a night earlier, approached, smiling. Gavin Maloof approached, visibly animated.

And you never know what the tight-lipped Petrie will do. Trade the pick. Trade back and draft Fredette. Keep the pick and draft Fredette, who on mock drafts ranges anywhere from No. 7 to the high teens.

"I would love to play here," said the native of Glen Falls, N.Y. "I think I would fit in very well, spread the floor, hit the shots, but also penetrate and get guys open. That (being the No. 7 pick) is something I would be very excited about."

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