In tallying five points and seven rebounds in just under 20 minutes of action, his first road game against his former team was much like his tenure in the nation's capital -- occasionally tantalizing, often frustrating, curiously feeble for a 7-footer whose ripped, intimidating physique wouldn't be out of place on the side of an ancient Grecian urn.

To put things another way: Brown was an inept franchise savior. Given a second chance to inspire some local passion, he made for an equally lame villain.

Fans hissed when Brown shot free throws. They cheered when he missed. They hollered for Wizards forward Etan Thomas to post Brown in the first quarter, delighting in each of Brown's four fouls. Mostly, though, they had little to scream about, for good or ill.

Brown simply didn't give them a decent opportunity.

Of course, this was always Brown's problem with the Wizards: Put him in a basketball uniform and he's impossible to ignore; put him in a professional game and he's anything but, a 23-year-old player more likely to make a momentum-squelching gaffe than to throw down a ferocious drunk. That Brown spent much of the final six minutes sitting next to Brian Shaw on the Lakers' bench -- and was outhustled by Gilbert Arenas for a crucial late-game rebound -- said even more about his maddening passivity and general cluelessness than does his paltry season averages of 5.9 points and 5.9 rebounds per game.

Really, where's the fun in jeering a guy who can't play?

You [stink]! a few fans yelled at Brown.

No means no! a few more screamed at Bryant, who finished with 31 points.

Indeed, Brown's duly harsh, yet hardly nasty reception was easy to understand. This wasn't Shaq and Kobe, Johnny Damon and the Boston Red Sox, the dissolution of a passionate marriage. To the contrary, this was more like an amicable divorce -- ending badly, to be sure, but only following a tepid relationship that rarely showed signs of genuine promise.

When Brown essentially quit on Washington during its playoff series against Chicago last spring -- later offering a silly, convoluted excuse about not wanting to physically assault Arenas -- his Wizards teammates could have publicly thrown him under the bus.

Instead, they collectively rolled their eyes.

Believe it or not, Brown remains well-liked in Washington's locker room. Why not? Like a foolish kid brother, he's mostly harmless, all bark and scant bite.

On one first half play, Brown made a deft pirouette around Washington's Calvin Booth, calling for a lob pass. The ball hit him in the hand, then bounced off his forehead, Jose Canseco-style, before spinning out of bounds. Afterward, Brown appeared to motion to the stands, egging on jeers. Maybe he was just rubbing his forehead.

Either way, it was classic Kwame.

Besides, the Wizards got the better of the deal that sent Brown west, picking up Caron Butler -- a hard-nosed competitor who is admirably filling in for departed star Larry Hughes and finished with 16 points last night, including a late-game three-pointer that gave Washington a 94-88 lead.

The crowd erupted after Butler's shot, their cheers louder than any of the boos directed at Brown, past or present.

"They should be cheering," Brown said after the game. "They booed me when I was here. They should be cheering now that I'm gone. I'm confused."

No need. Washington fans booed Kwame Brown last night. Early in the third quarter, they also booed a guy who missed a promotional half-court shot -- just about as vociferously, and for more or less the same reason.