Bobby Jackson, 35, is ancient according to the NBA calendar and pretty banged up based on updated medical charts. His body is thicker in some areas and less defined in others. Gone are the days when incidental contact with his abdominal wall threatened concussions and dislodged an opponent's teeth.

But he isn't done yet. He's just older, wiser, different.

Initially thought to be a throw-in to finalize the Ron Artest trade to Houston, Jackson has returned to the city where he enjoyed his greatest success and continues to tweak memories. He brought retro back to Arco Arena. He drags himself onto the practice floor and refuses to leave. He encases his knees, ankles and elbows in ice after games. He is playing more minutes than anticipated – and here's the shocker – performing at a higher level than expected.

In 29 minutes Wednesday against the Los Angeles Clippers, for instance, the 6-foot-1, 185-pound Jackson sprinted into the corners and elevated for jumpers. He froze defenders with ball fakes and stroked 18-footers. He scooted baseline for openings, connected for four assists, and delighted in Reggie Theus' pleas to play faster. Until fatigue (and Eric Gordon) got the best of him in the fourth quarter, he was the same old Bobby.

"He understands how to play," Theus said, "and defensively he gets up into people, and he's physical. He's still got a little something in the tank. I don't expect him to play big minutes for us, but I expect him to play important minutes."

Theus classifies his 12-year veteran as more of a natural scorer than playmaker, but Jackson never has fit neatly into any category. He is a hybrid, a wild card at his best while almost out of control.

The old Bobby, Kings fans will recall, directed his fury from the infamous Game 6 toward the Lakers in Game 7. Instead of obsessing about what is now accepted as fact – that the refs robbed the Kings in Game 6 of the 2002 Western Conference finals – he retaliated with aggressive drives, bruising defense, timely steals. He was the Kings' fiercest competitor and most effective player that day, yet was on the bench when the game was decided.

Another player would have sulked, complained, demanded answers, demanded a trade. Not Bobby Jackson. He takes his benchings and twists them to his advantage. He accepted his backup role behind Jason Williams and Mike Bibby while convinced he was the superior guard. He even understood Geoff Petrie's reasoning for failing to offer a new contract at the end of his injury-riddled 2004-05 season, though he thought he earned a new deal: "They were worried because I kept getting hurt. How do you make a commitment to someone who keeps getting hurt? But what's funny is, since I left Sac, I've been healthy."

In fact, if Jackson continues to enjoy good health and play at his current level, Theus might be tempted to lean too heavily on his old vet. Again, and always thinking of the team, Jackson advises caution. "I'm only going to be able to do so much," he chuckled, "but I can help in other ways."

Aware of early concerns about the defense, Jackson already has been harassing Beno Udrih and Bobby Brown about stopping the ball. Beno, he says, is strong enough and quick enough to be an effective defender. The slighter Brown, he says, reminds him of a young Bobby Jackson: loose handle, concentration wavers, needs to become a more generous distributor.

"And Bobby can guard," said Jackson. "He is so athletic, so explosive. I tell him, 'If I can get up and pressure for a few minutes at my age, then you can get up and pressure all the time, regardless of whether you are going to be tired or not.' I'll be in their ear all year. You know it. You know me."

No guile, no pretense, no nonsense.

No mystery why he was missed.

Call The Bee's Ailene Voisin, (916) 321-1208.