These Kings rookies are pretty sharp. That old cowbell charm, the power of purple, the power of Jimmer.

They know the deal.

They get it.

During Saturday's introductory news conference at Power Balance Pavilion – that old barn formerly known as Arco Arena – Jimmer Fredette, Tyler Honeycutt and Isaiah Thomas sounded like three college kids who completed their homework and came ready to play.

The Kings-Lakers rivalry. The more recent postseason drought. The delicate arena situation. They addressed the issues and talked about winning games, winning back the fans, winning like the old days and securing the franchise's future in Sacramento.

But particularly noteworthy was that Fredette was in the middle of everything. He was the star attraction and one of the guys. He refused to be the showstopper – more commonly referred to around here as a ballstopper – and sang with the chorus, in harmony with his new teammates.

This is huge. This is it. This is the balancing act that has to continue.

Fredette, 22, can be a rock star some of the time, accommodating his fans at rallies and airports and malls, tending to his expanding social network empire, obliging Kings management at meet-and-greets with sponsors and season-ticket holders and every Vera, Chuck and Dave who might be enticed to buy into his act. But even the Beatles took rehearsal breaks once in a while.

"I've been in situations where some of my players have had cult followings," said coach Paul Westphal, referring to his former Phoenix Suns superstar, Charles Barkley. "It's often part of the NBA, and if it continues, it means you're really, really good.

"We want our team to embrace it. We want people to watch us play. At the same time, it doesn't mean anything if you can't back it up. Your focus is the job, and the circus is the circus."

And there is only one LeBron. And one Michael. And one Kobe. And one Larry and one Magic and one Charles. Westphal recalled occasions when helicopters flew overhead, chronicling Charles butchering yet another golf course.

While it's also true that there is only one Jimmer, at least until his name began appearing frequently on birth certificates in Utah, Fredette doesn't need the added burden of lifting a franchise. Once – and whenever – the season begins, calm and a semblance of sanity need to be restored. The trick is to capitalize on his charismatic presence without exploiting his accommodating nature.

Remember poor Tyreke Evans? The Rookie of the Year campaign of two seasons ago? How relieved was Evans when the numbers chase ended? And what about fellow rookie Omri Casspi? As the first Israeli to play in the league, the slender small forward carried around a country and was physically and emotionally depleted by the All-Star break.

Already, Fredette plays in a different league. His brother, T.J., raps for him. Fans mail poems to his family in Glens Falls, N.Y. ESPN can't get enough of him. Apparently, neither can anyone else. He has been the subject of four documentaries and at least one significant misconception – that the Kings' owners dictated his selection at No. 10 for marketing purposes, upsetting the coaches and other front office staff.

Not true. Not even close to true. Westphal signed on for Jimmermania when the BYU star completed his predraft workout at the Kings' practice facility. Basketball president Geoff Petrie, who makes the final decisions, liked Connecticut guard Kemba Walker, but he loves shooters. He was leaning toward Fredette when Charlotte grabbed Walker at No. 9, rendering further debate moot.

"And let me tell you something about Geoff," Kings co-owner Gavin Maloof said Saturday. "When you bring up the marketing (potential of) a player, it's like giving the kid the death sentence. Geoff doesn't like it. He doesn't like it. He says, 'Picking the best player and winning games will take care of marketing.' "

Yet deny that the Maloofs and the business types aren't marketing aggressively before the current labor agreement expires Thursday? The squeeze was on the minute Fredette touched down in Sacramento. From 4:55 p.m. Friday until his red-eye departure Saturday night, he didn't have time to breathe, much less touch a basketball.

His schedule included the following: fanfest at the airport; dinner with Westphal and members of the front office; four meet-and-greets with sponsors and season-ticket holders; a formal introductory news conference; a rally at Arden Fair mall; a photo shoot with team staffers; and, finally, a live chat for the team website.

Throughout the blur of activity, Fredette remained agreeable and good-natured and, with one exception, appeared to genuinely enjoy the attention.

"He was a little overwhelmed at the airport," said his father, Al Fredette. "He's not used to people crowding up against him. But this is where he wants to be. He thinks he has an opportunity to get major playing time, and if you're a competitor, you want playing time."

Fredette's personal story and the onslaught of attention accompanying his meteoric rise almost overshadow his talents.

The real reasons the Kings drafted him? The range on his shot is ridiculous. His crossover is wicked. His passing and playmaking are underrated. He patterns his game after Deron Williams and sees a lot of himself in Stephen Curry.

Soon enough, he will see all those Jimmers running around Utah. So what's next? A television show? A radio gig? An arena built in his honor?

Seriously, the Kings can't succumb to temptation. They have to be smart about this. They will need to tamp it down when the season starts. A locker room is a fragile, delicate place. Too much attention heaped on one player causes resentment among the others.

"We'll take a look at it," Westphal said, "and if it seems to be something we need to be concerned about, we'll make changes. But (laughing) I don't think he has been particularly worn down by it yet."

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