Whether it was a symptom or the cause is a matter for debate. But of all that characterized the dysfunctional, even disgraceful, state of the U.S. men's basketball team in the 2004 Athens Olympics -- flash trumping fundamentals, internal bickering, lack of international experience, the individual eclipsing team -- nothing was more at the heart of the issue than this: More than a dozen NBA stars declined to play for the team.

All had their reasons, from terrorism fears to legal entanglements. Some were injured. But the hemming and hawing and ambivalence illuminated the core factor eroding a proud program that had lost twice in 111 Olympic contests ... then lost three times in Athens and was fortunate to medal.

A LeBronze, some have called it, sarcastically but unfairly invoking Cleveland superstar LeBron James. At 19, he was the youngest player on the men's team since 1968 and played in a limited role. But his view wasn't obscured.

"We didn't take the Games serious[ly]," he recently told the Los Angeles Times, "and we paid for it."

Call it arrogance. Call it complacency. But simply rolling a ball out for a team of NBA players no longer was adequate against a world catching up.

"I feel pride in the fact that we invented the game, and we taught the world the game and introduced the world to the game," USA Basketball general manager Jerry Colangelo said at the U.S. Olympic media summit in Chicago this spring. "And they took it very seriously and became very adept at the game."

Colangelo in some ways inadvertently offered a glimpse of the deep-rooted American bluster by neglecting to mention basketball inventor James Naismith was Canadian. But his motivation in taking over USA Basketball in 2005, on the condition of full autonomy to pick the team and coaches, was entirely the opposite.

"We needed to change the culture," he said.

And so he has, along with the team's coach, Mike Krzyzewski, who has guided Duke to three national titles and was an assistant for the 1992 "Dream Team" that represented Team USA's first use of NBA players.

When the so-called "Redeem Team" converges in Las Vegas this week for its final camp before the upcoming Beijing Olympics, the 12-man roster will reflect the overhauled emphasis and process. Rather than a hodgepodge, this Team USA is a tapestry, featuring role players to complement the stars.

And rather than a team stitched together from whoever might be persuaded to play, this group is constituted of players who gave a three-year commitment.

At the nexus of the new mindset, Colangelo believes, is the Milwaukee Bucks' Michael Redd. Not simply because he is expected to give Team USA an "energizer shooter," as Krzyzewski called him, with a 3-point shooting dimension.

Colangelo was in Chicago when Redd arranged to drive from Milwaukee to interview for the team. When Redd arrived at Colangelo's hotel room, he was dressed in sweatpants but carrying a garment bag. He asked to be excused, went into the bathroom and changed into a suit.

"Pretty darn impressive," Colangelo called Redd's earnestness, adding, "In that kind of setting ... you find out a lot about individuals."

Next month, you can find out a lot about how the individuals make the team. Will it be red-faced again, or will the face of Redd typify the story?

Whatever takes place, to hear Krzyzewski tell it, the enterprise is about more than just Olympic glory. It's about influencing how the game should be played, from enthusiasm to attention to detail to camaraderie to teamwork.

"In some respects over the years, we've been a little arrogant: It's not our game; it's the world's game," he said, adding that this Olympic team is "part of a movement. And they're very, very proud to represent the United States."