Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Question Of The Day
If you were building a franchise from scratch tomorrow and I offer you either Gasol & Bynum or Nene & Birdman, who do you take?
Tarheels & Titles
I was walking across the UNC campus Tuesday morning and happened to come across Sean May and Jackie Manuel in the middle of a work out on one of the college's astro-turf facilities. A short, rotund gentleman was putting the two former national champions through the paces, blowing a whistle and gingerly tossing around a couple of medicine balls. I didn't stick around long, but the work out didn't strike me as being particularly intense.
At all.
Maybe because of all the talk that's been going around about Kobe's work ethic and its effect on his Olympic teammates, a tangential question popped into my head as I watched: why don't Carolina alumni win NBA championships anymore?
The 2004 Detroit Pistons were the last team to bring home the Larry O'Brien trophy while featuring a Tarheel (Rasheed "Ball Don't Lie" Wallace in this case) on their active roster. While this may not seem like a particularly long drought, consider the following:
In the period of 1991 to 2004, twelve of the fourteen NBA championship teams had UNC alumni in their line-up. Extend the time frame all the way back to 1978 (the year after the merger) and those numbers go to 21 out of 27, with the lean years never lasting longer than two consecutive seasons.
If you exclude the rings won by three of the era's dynasties (the Bird Celtics, the Duncan Spurs, and the Bad Boy Pistons), former Carolina players were a part of seventeen consecutive NBA championships!
In the context of that kind of consistency, four years seems like an eternity.
One obvious explanation for the dry spell would be the retirement of iconic coach Dean Smith in 1997. Every Carolina alumnus who has won an NBA championship in the league's modern era has been a protege of Smith's, and the Tarheel program experienced a fairly bumping transition after the coach's exit. This theory does not, however, account for the careers of guys like Antawn Jamison or Vince Carter, stars who came up in Smith last years but have enjoyed limited post-season success at the next level. Nor does it speak to the tremendous success that Roy Williams has already begun to enjoy in his six seasons in Chapel Hill.
At least as important as Smith retirement have been the dramatic shifts in the composition of the NBA itself that have occured over the last decade. Among the four teams remaining in this years play-offs, there are five foreign-born starters (Varejao, Nene, Ilgauskus, Turkoglu, and Gasol) and at least four more (Pietrus, Kleiza, Gortat and Vujicic) who would be considered major contributors. These numbers would have been considered absurd just 15 or 16 years ago, when Sarunas Marciulionis was considered an oddity for even making it as a sixth man with the Warriors.
Combine this with the continuing reluctance of elite American talent to delay their professional careers for a stint in college, and the trend begins to look much broader. It isn't simply a matter of Carolina guys not winning titles - there aren't that many college guys vying for the trophy...period.
Even if Roy Williams is able to replicate the success of his predecessor - and that's a big if - the days of watching Tarheels dominate the association year after year is probably long gone.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Attempt To Stomp The Yard
Things got a little crazy in a quarter final of the Big East tourney last night. If you haven't seen it already, baseball players from UConn and USF staged an impromptu (or was it?) dance-off during a five hour rain delay. It was lengthy.
While the snarky critics of Dead Spin have taken this as an opportunity to heap withering, unmitigated derision on a group of perfectly good white boys, I take a more nuanced approach. There were highlights and vertiginous lowlights.
Let's break it down.
00.06: Kicking things off, one dude steps up and drops a solid soulja boy. 7 Points to UConn. The degree of difficulty is not much here and its a little played out at this point, but I still love this dance. Especially when athletes do it. I'm going to assume the Huskies were referencing the great Baron Davis here, and give them a solid tip of the cap.
00.37: USF comes back hard. Team involvement in the set-up. A fat, balding cat (is that a coach?) doing URSHER spins. Mock Photography! This is close to embarrassing but the unified enthusiasm sells it. 12 Points to the Bulls.
01.28: And from the UConn dug out...total silence. Apparently a solitary man's mediocre Soulja Boy was the trump card. There is a humiliating degree of shoe-gazing going on here, even as one or two brave souls attempt to disturb the herd. -5 Points for debilitating self-consciousness.
01.58: "Damn it, we're getting killed out there. Somebody try something. I don't care what it is...anything!" -5,643.7 Points for the ultimate panic move.
02.14: Actually I really like that #7 walks it off here and washes his hands of the whole thing. When you see what happens over the next 30 seconds, it was definitely the right call. I'm going to give you 5,600 of those points back, but only for big 7.
02.54: This is...uhh...well...you can only dance to the music that the PA guys give you. Considering the circumstances, this is acceptable. 1 Point to you UConn. But let's regroup here before the next attempt.
03.23: Wow. USF comes back the coordinated set-up and the MJ splits, spins, moon walk, and hand-stand! This is so much more advanced than anything thus far, you really have to start asking questions about preparation. Also that much more incredible when you consider that, at this point, all USF really needs to do is play prevent D and run the clock out. 25 Points for the exclamation point.
03.58: I don't know what this one is. It surprises me that a person would hear James Brown, and believe it appropriate to move their body in this fashion. Also peculiar that the rest of the Huskies squad finds activity worthy of celebration. -200 Points.
04.16: Look Out! Coach's got the happy feet again. Quite sloppy but still sold on enthusiasm. 2 Points to USF.
04.48: Annnnndddd.....UConn breaks out the Ol' Upside Down Man. This just took on the vibe of a crappy children's birthday party. When your attempts to win a dancing competition break down to optical illusion comedy, I'd say you're in trouble. Still 3 Points for catching me off-guard. Nice that they carefully walk him into the dug-out too.
05.42: This was inevitable. Zero Points to both sides. Kind of a double-technical.
06.15: Nice family event interrupted by an air hump. Somebody got a little over-excited by his earlier moon-walking success. -5 Points USF.
06.50: The first time I watched this, I thought it was pretty good. Then I watched it a second time. Still though, a solid 5 Points to both sides for execution. On a side note, isn't it funny how these guys immediately start to act like they might be about to fight, as soon as you play some Irish music. "I'm Shipping Up To Boston" would obviously be the correct call for the PA guys at this point, just to see if you could escalate things.
07.54: OK, USF is officially not your average college baseball team. Is there a point where maybe you're too into 'Rhythm Is A Dancer'? I'm talking to you, Coach...
08.32: Fellas. Fellas. Stripper Moves? You do know that Youtube exists, right? -5o Points to USF and maybe sit the next couple plays out.
10.13: This is a simple game. You throw the ball. You hit the ball. You catch the ball. And when you're getting trounched in a rain-delay dance off, you take your shirts off and slide across the infield tarp like a band of sexually-ambiguous, marauding Vikings. -10 Points to UConn.
10.37: And shake it out, fellas. A little dap to acknowledge the gravity of the moment and back to your respective corners.
11.50: UConn tries to keep things going, as they await the judges decision. However, The Cha Cha Slide is not so impressive when you can only muster two participants. Zero Points.
And the final tally is
USF: -11, UConn: -242.7
So maybe Deadspin was correct after all. Still, unlike in college football, at least the comedic homo-eroticism is intentional with these guys.
Wait, that was intentional, right?
While the snarky critics of Dead Spin have taken this as an opportunity to heap withering, unmitigated derision on a group of perfectly good white boys, I take a more nuanced approach. There were highlights and vertiginous lowlights.
Let's break it down.
00.06: Kicking things off, one dude steps up and drops a solid soulja boy. 7 Points to UConn. The degree of difficulty is not much here and its a little played out at this point, but I still love this dance. Especially when athletes do it. I'm going to assume the Huskies were referencing the great Baron Davis here, and give them a solid tip of the cap.
00.37: USF comes back hard. Team involvement in the set-up. A fat, balding cat (is that a coach?) doing URSHER spins. Mock Photography! This is close to embarrassing but the unified enthusiasm sells it. 12 Points to the Bulls.
01.28: And from the UConn dug out...total silence. Apparently a solitary man's mediocre Soulja Boy was the trump card. There is a humiliating degree of shoe-gazing going on here, even as one or two brave souls attempt to disturb the herd. -5 Points for debilitating self-consciousness.
01.58: "Damn it, we're getting killed out there. Somebody try something. I don't care what it is...anything!" -5,643.7 Points for the ultimate panic move.
02.14: Actually I really like that #7 walks it off here and washes his hands of the whole thing. When you see what happens over the next 30 seconds, it was definitely the right call. I'm going to give you 5,600 of those points back, but only for big 7.
02.54: This is...uhh...well...you can only dance to the music that the PA guys give you. Considering the circumstances, this is acceptable. 1 Point to you UConn. But let's regroup here before the next attempt.
03.23: Wow. USF comes back the coordinated set-up and the MJ splits, spins, moon walk, and hand-stand! This is so much more advanced than anything thus far, you really have to start asking questions about preparation. Also that much more incredible when you consider that, at this point, all USF really needs to do is play prevent D and run the clock out. 25 Points for the exclamation point.
03.58: I don't know what this one is. It surprises me that a person would hear James Brown, and believe it appropriate to move their body in this fashion. Also peculiar that the rest of the Huskies squad finds activity worthy of celebration. -200 Points.
04.16: Look Out! Coach's got the happy feet again. Quite sloppy but still sold on enthusiasm. 2 Points to USF.
04.48: Annnnndddd.....UConn breaks out the Ol' Upside Down Man. This just took on the vibe of a crappy children's birthday party. When your attempts to win a dancing competition break down to optical illusion comedy, I'd say you're in trouble. Still 3 Points for catching me off-guard. Nice that they carefully walk him into the dug-out too.
05.42: This was inevitable. Zero Points to both sides. Kind of a double-technical.
06.15: Nice family event interrupted by an air hump. Somebody got a little over-excited by his earlier moon-walking success. -5 Points USF.
06.50: The first time I watched this, I thought it was pretty good. Then I watched it a second time. Still though, a solid 5 Points to both sides for execution. On a side note, isn't it funny how these guys immediately start to act like they might be about to fight, as soon as you play some Irish music. "I'm Shipping Up To Boston" would obviously be the correct call for the PA guys at this point, just to see if you could escalate things.
07.54: OK, USF is officially not your average college baseball team. Is there a point where maybe you're too into 'Rhythm Is A Dancer'? I'm talking to you, Coach...
08.32: Fellas. Fellas. Stripper Moves? You do know that Youtube exists, right? -5o Points to USF and maybe sit the next couple plays out.
10.13: This is a simple game. You throw the ball. You hit the ball. You catch the ball. And when you're getting trounched in a rain-delay dance off, you take your shirts off and slide across the infield tarp like a band of sexually-ambiguous, marauding Vikings. -10 Points to UConn.
10.37: And shake it out, fellas. A little dap to acknowledge the gravity of the moment and back to your respective corners.
11.50: UConn tries to keep things going, as they await the judges decision. However, The Cha Cha Slide is not so impressive when you can only muster two participants. Zero Points.
And the final tally is
USF: -11, UConn: -242.7
So maybe Deadspin was correct after all. Still, unlike in college football, at least the comedic homo-eroticism is intentional with these guys.
Wait, that was intentional, right?
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Friday, May 22, 2009
Everything and Everything
In the moments immediately afterward, Josh, my boy since the days of elementary school, called.
Did you f***ing see that? Lebron just made Mo Williams famous.
It was a game-winner in the most dramatic fashion. A walk-off homer of a jump shot, Lebron's miracle forced new breath into a Cleveland season that, in that moment, had lain like a gray and crumpled Lazarus on the floor of the arena.
Death and life. Finality and possibility.
In it's best moments, the world of sports can bring us great metaphorical meaning and also happiness. It is possible to place to0 much emphasis (way way too much emphasis) on the outcomes. We have a multi-billion dollar media apparatus to do precisely that, and the hype can dampen the enthusiasm of even the most devoted fan.
Oh but then a sweet, improbable, impossible, high-arching jump shot like that...
As the clock wound down on a game in which the Cavaliers once again secured and then squandered a significant lead, Hedo Turkoglu hit a graceless, running 12-footer to go up by two. Despite stretches of dominance, Cleveland had again failed to deliver a knock-out blow. Orlando had finished the game hot and loose, free from the breathless pressures that stalked the Cavaliers throughout the fourth period.
When Hedo hit his shot with only a second left on the clock, the game, and perhaps the series, appeared over.
Coming out of their timeout, Lebron huddled close to Williams, explaining something. Loud music blaring from the jumbotron made it impossible to tell whether the Cleveland crowd was cheering wildly or remaining eerily quiet. As Williams held the ball to inbound, cutters swirled around James. After a beat, he took several hard steps into the lane, and then cut quickly back out past the free throw line. Williams had been waiting patiently, and he delivered a quick pass right into Lebron's hands. He turned and shot.
I spent the next twenty seconds babbling nonsense at my television set.
The shot was astonishing for so many reasons. There was so little time, he wasn't in rhythm, and it wasn't his kind of shot to begin with. It was a buzzer beater to beat a buzzer beater in a game that had become a must-win. It (perhaps) paired the ascendency of the sport's next legend with a symbolic turning point in the tortured sporting history of an iconic American city.
But most of all, the shot was incredible, because nobody besides the guy shooting it thought it was going in.
Maybe a few grade school kids in Cleveland. Maybe Mo Williams. But that's about it. Beyond the logisitics of getting a game-winner off in less than a second, it just didn't seem possible with all the momentum, all the drama of the game, moving toward Orlando and away from Cleveland.
There was a moment when Michael became Michael. Once the identity had been assumed, he spent year after year reaffirming its power and consequence to the delight of everyone willing to watch.
Lebron James just made his first affirmation.
This thing we all believed was true, this thing called Lebron, became real right before our eyes. And it happened at precisely the moment when it seemed impossible.
I would watch a thousand more games to catch another shot like that.
It was written. And it came true.
Oh what a moment.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
20 Questions For Games Seven
20) Can Rafer please please please put a slap upside Eddie House's head again?
Without question, the signature comedic moment of the playoffs so far. It has been called a bitch slap, a Rick James slap, or an Italian Grandmother slap. All are equally valid. I just want to see this phenomenal gesture of disrespect repeated.
19) How legit is Aaron Brooks?
Apparently very. Every time I watch the Rockets play, I am more impressed with his ability to get into and then out of the paint on any defense in the league. Derek Fisher might not be the youngest or quickest guard in the league, but Brooks is making him look downright arthritic. Add him to the NBA's shockingly long list of intriguing, young point guards.
18) Doesn't Luis Scola deserve a good nickname after his Game Six performance?
I think so. Of course, you can always sign me up for more nicknames. The three finalists I came up with on Thursday night:
3) Sweet Lou Scola
2) The Big Greezy
1) Lion of The Pampas
17) Is the Gasol/Bynum/Odom the softest, title-contending front line of all time?
Yes.
16) What kind of officiating will we see in LA?
This is precisely the kind of game where David Stern's preferences seem to come disgustingly into play. A week ago, it might have been a toss-up (don't underestimate how much the powers that be would like to see Yao go deep in a post-season), but now it seems clear that the Lakers will be getting every questionable call and even some not so questionable ones. Plus, its at home. Plus its Kobe.
15) Can Allen get it going?
Ray Ray has been ice cold the last couple games, but don't underestimate him. Allen is a Professional Shooter. I also think he needs one or two more jaw-dropping explosions in clutch games to solidify his position among the all-time shooting greats.
14) Does Brian Scalabrine have scoliosis?
Have you watched this dude run down the court? I mean really watched? I swear one leg is shorter than the other. At first I didn't want to pile on just because it seemed too obvious. But c'mon on...
13) Does anybody think the Lakers bench is anything but average at this point?
No. In fact, they kind of stink, if you don't count Odom. Forget the Cavs, having the superior bench. I'd take the Nuggets and even the Rockets bench over them too.
12) Any chance we'll see an actual fight tonight?
Probably not. After some seriously lively confrontations for the first couple weeks of the play-offs, things have really quieted down. This is partially due to some exuberant officiating and partially due to the fact that stakes are higher. There might be a few flagrants, but I can't really see anybody risking a suspension. Maybe next week, when the Denver Knuckleheads get back involved.
11) What does Rajon Rondo have in store for us?
Despite the struggles of the Celtics, Rondo has made the most impressive leap of anyone during the play-offs. No one would be surprised in least, if he dropped a triple-double tonight. Think about that. How many players can you say that about? Also, nobody would be surprised if he dropped to his knees during an out-of-bounds play and karate chopped Hedo Turkoglu in the nuts.
10) If the Rockets, lose how will Ron react?
As much I am rooting for Artest to succeed, its interesting to consider how he could react to failure - not only because he is a fundamentally volatile guy, but because there is an inordinate amount of pressure on him. He was brought in to fill a specific role for Houston (toughness, defense, third scoring option), and now he's the face of a franchise playing on the big stage. And the track record isn't great...
9) If it comes down to a final possession, who will take the last shot for Orlando?
This is the most ridiculous thing about the hazy, Howard-Van Gundy controversy this week: Is anybody sure that Howard actually wanted the ball? I mean, its one thing to complain about it after you lose, but was Dwight actually demanding it when it mattered. What's the point of having a dominant center if he doesn't dominate in the last five minutes? But this point, you are who you are in the playoffs, and it'll more than likely be Rashard or Turkoglu taking the big one. Which is actually not such a bad thing...
8) Along those same lines, will the Chuck-Wagon call out Howard tonight?
Barkley loves calling out soft, big men. If the Magic lose, or even if they win but Dwight plays poorly, I'll be waiting for some borderline offensive commentary from Sir Charles.
7) What does Pierce have left?
Everybody is talking about legacy these days, but few people bring up Pierce. If he elevates his game tonight, even if its just with an incredible fourth quarter, I think this season because a pretty damn strong part of his all-time great resume. Love them or hate them, this Celtic team has been seriously fiercesome in the face of major adversity, and a lot of that has to do with Pierce. At times, he looks tired and old, but he does he still have a few heroic plays in him?
6) If the Lakers lose, how will Kobe react?
Anybody who watched the premier of Doin' Work last night knows that Kobe has (theoretically) transitioned into a fantastic super teammate over the last two seasons. However, some of us still have a sneaking suspicion that a narcissistic backstabber still lies just beneath that shiny veneer. If the Lakers lose this game - and, granted, that's a huge If - go ahead and set your Tivo for a tremendous press conference of muted, cold rage.
5) If the Lakers, lose how will Phil react?
This one is actually slightly more interesting though. Everybody says Phil will stay in coaching till he beats Auerbach's record, but could he really stay with the Lakers after this kind of second-round exit? His health problems are well-documented, and it seems unlikely that Jackson, or Bryant, or the Laker front office, would simply load back up for an third crack at it with the current cast. Which all points an potentially dramatic (and hilarious) off-season.
3) Why does it feel like an upset every time Boston beats Orlando?
The Celtics are the defending-champs, the two seed, and hold home court. The Magic have never gone deep in the play-offs with this current roster. Yet every time Boston wins one, this series takes on a bizarre underdog feel. Remember back in 2007, when the Warriors scrapped their way to series win over the top-seeded Mavs, how everything Baron Davis and Stephen Jackson did seemed to work, and Dallas could never put their superior talent to work. I hate to say it, but this Boston-Orlando series reminds me of Warrior-Mavs in some way. Like Rondo is Baron's evil, scrawny twin. Opposites on paper but sharing some strange, mirrored destiny: to pull out an improbable series victory...and then get murdered in the next round.
2) What is the King thinking right now?
It seems pretty obvious that the Nuggets would rather face Houston next week - you always, ALWAYS, want to see Kobe dead and buried in the post-season. But who would the Cavs rather face? I'd guess Orlando. Boston would still be the champs and you never know... Actually, screw that! You do know. Lebron couldn't care less. No one, living or dead, can guard him. He isn't even watching the game tonight. He's playing Settlers of Catan with Warren Buffett and Jay-Z.
1)Are the Lakers mortally wounded?
Forget that Phil is playing it cool. I think LA will likely win tonight, but there is most definitely something wrong with this team. Over the course of the next few weeks, this weakness will be exposed over and over again, till it costs them a series. Mark it down.
And will there be anything funnier than renting Doin' Work after it happens?
Without question, the signature comedic moment of the playoffs so far. It has been called a bitch slap, a Rick James slap, or an Italian Grandmother slap. All are equally valid. I just want to see this phenomenal gesture of disrespect repeated.
19) How legit is Aaron Brooks?
Apparently very. Every time I watch the Rockets play, I am more impressed with his ability to get into and then out of the paint on any defense in the league. Derek Fisher might not be the youngest or quickest guard in the league, but Brooks is making him look downright arthritic. Add him to the NBA's shockingly long list of intriguing, young point guards.
18) Doesn't Luis Scola deserve a good nickname after his Game Six performance?
I think so. Of course, you can always sign me up for more nicknames. The three finalists I came up with on Thursday night:
3) Sweet Lou Scola
2) The Big Greezy
1) Lion of The Pampas
17) Is the Gasol/Bynum/Odom the softest, title-contending front line of all time?
Yes.
16) What kind of officiating will we see in LA?
This is precisely the kind of game where David Stern's preferences seem to come disgustingly into play. A week ago, it might have been a toss-up (don't underestimate how much the powers that be would like to see Yao go deep in a post-season), but now it seems clear that the Lakers will be getting every questionable call and even some not so questionable ones. Plus, its at home. Plus its Kobe.
15) Can Allen get it going?
Ray Ray has been ice cold the last couple games, but don't underestimate him. Allen is a Professional Shooter. I also think he needs one or two more jaw-dropping explosions in clutch games to solidify his position among the all-time shooting greats.
14) Does Brian Scalabrine have scoliosis?
Have you watched this dude run down the court? I mean really watched? I swear one leg is shorter than the other. At first I didn't want to pile on just because it seemed too obvious. But c'mon on...
13) Does anybody think the Lakers bench is anything but average at this point?
No. In fact, they kind of stink, if you don't count Odom. Forget the Cavs, having the superior bench. I'd take the Nuggets and even the Rockets bench over them too.
12) Any chance we'll see an actual fight tonight?
Probably not. After some seriously lively confrontations for the first couple weeks of the play-offs, things have really quieted down. This is partially due to some exuberant officiating and partially due to the fact that stakes are higher. There might be a few flagrants, but I can't really see anybody risking a suspension. Maybe next week, when the Denver Knuckleheads get back involved.
11) What does Rajon Rondo have in store for us?
Despite the struggles of the Celtics, Rondo has made the most impressive leap of anyone during the play-offs. No one would be surprised in least, if he dropped a triple-double tonight. Think about that. How many players can you say that about? Also, nobody would be surprised if he dropped to his knees during an out-of-bounds play and karate chopped Hedo Turkoglu in the nuts.
10) If the Rockets, lose how will Ron react?
As much I am rooting for Artest to succeed, its interesting to consider how he could react to failure - not only because he is a fundamentally volatile guy, but because there is an inordinate amount of pressure on him. He was brought in to fill a specific role for Houston (toughness, defense, third scoring option), and now he's the face of a franchise playing on the big stage. And the track record isn't great...
9) If it comes down to a final possession, who will take the last shot for Orlando?
This is the most ridiculous thing about the hazy, Howard-Van Gundy controversy this week: Is anybody sure that Howard actually wanted the ball? I mean, its one thing to complain about it after you lose, but was Dwight actually demanding it when it mattered. What's the point of having a dominant center if he doesn't dominate in the last five minutes? But this point, you are who you are in the playoffs, and it'll more than likely be Rashard or Turkoglu taking the big one. Which is actually not such a bad thing...
8) Along those same lines, will the Chuck-Wagon call out Howard tonight?
Barkley loves calling out soft, big men. If the Magic lose, or even if they win but Dwight plays poorly, I'll be waiting for some borderline offensive commentary from Sir Charles.
7) What does Pierce have left?
Everybody is talking about legacy these days, but few people bring up Pierce. If he elevates his game tonight, even if its just with an incredible fourth quarter, I think this season because a pretty damn strong part of his all-time great resume. Love them or hate them, this Celtic team has been seriously fiercesome in the face of major adversity, and a lot of that has to do with Pierce. At times, he looks tired and old, but he does he still have a few heroic plays in him?
6) If the Lakers lose, how will Kobe react?
Anybody who watched the premier of Doin' Work last night knows that Kobe has (theoretically) transitioned into a fantastic super teammate over the last two seasons. However, some of us still have a sneaking suspicion that a narcissistic backstabber still lies just beneath that shiny veneer. If the Lakers lose this game - and, granted, that's a huge If - go ahead and set your Tivo for a tremendous press conference of muted, cold rage.
5) If the Lakers, lose how will Phil react?
This one is actually slightly more interesting though. Everybody says Phil will stay in coaching till he beats Auerbach's record, but could he really stay with the Lakers after this kind of second-round exit? His health problems are well-documented, and it seems unlikely that Jackson, or Bryant, or the Laker front office, would simply load back up for an third crack at it with the current cast. Which all points an potentially dramatic (and hilarious) off-season.
3) Why does it feel like an upset every time Boston beats Orlando?
The Celtics are the defending-champs, the two seed, and hold home court. The Magic have never gone deep in the play-offs with this current roster. Yet every time Boston wins one, this series takes on a bizarre underdog feel. Remember back in 2007, when the Warriors scrapped their way to series win over the top-seeded Mavs, how everything Baron Davis and Stephen Jackson did seemed to work, and Dallas could never put their superior talent to work. I hate to say it, but this Boston-Orlando series reminds me of Warrior-Mavs in some way. Like Rondo is Baron's evil, scrawny twin. Opposites on paper but sharing some strange, mirrored destiny: to pull out an improbable series victory...and then get murdered in the next round.
2) What is the King thinking right now?
It seems pretty obvious that the Nuggets would rather face Houston next week - you always, ALWAYS, want to see Kobe dead and buried in the post-season. But who would the Cavs rather face? I'd guess Orlando. Boston would still be the champs and you never know... Actually, screw that! You do know. Lebron couldn't care less. No one, living or dead, can guard him. He isn't even watching the game tonight. He's playing Settlers of Catan with Warren Buffett and Jay-Z.
1)Are the Lakers mortally wounded?
Forget that Phil is playing it cool. I think LA will likely win tonight, but there is most definitely something wrong with this team. Over the course of the next few weeks, this weakness will be exposed over and over again, till it costs them a series. Mark it down.
And will there be anything funnier than renting Doin' Work after it happens?
Friday, May 8, 2009
"Nice and Wild"
Great moments in sports are built on compelling drama. More often than not, that drama relies on heroes and villains, protagonists and antagonists, not to mention all the meaning we attach to these rivalries.
How you respond to Ali vs Frasier says a lot about how you view the world. Likewise with Agassi vs. Sampras, Cowboys vs. Steelers, or Barca vs. Real. As J.A. Adande noted in an article last year, in the racially-charged Reagan years, rooting for Boston over LA sometimes carried a message that went way beyond just basketball.
Sometimes match-ups have implications. Particularly when there's history and politics involved.
Well what about Kobe vs. Ron-Ron? Let's consider the context.
From a basketball perspective, the match-up is fascinating. One player is the most-complete scorer in a generation, a proven clutch commodity who nonetheless has a major question mark attached to his resume. The other is arguably the best perimeter defender in the league, a man with a dizzying work ethic, a superior athletic package, and a fearsome tendency to attack any perceived weakness in his opponent's psychology.
But the drama runs deeper than just that.
These are the individuals at the centers of the two most notorious events in recent league history. The first incident involved the league's marque player - at the time widely regarded at the heir apparent to Michael Jordan - being accused of a particularly sordid act of sexual violence. The second incident involved a controversial but promising young star attacking a fan after being choke-slammed by Ben Wallace and hit with objects thrown from the stands.
One of these incidents resulted in the player receiving the longest suspension in NBA history, becoming universally vilified in the press, and being placed on what appears to be double-secret probation for David Stern for the rest of his career.
The other incident resulted in the accused paying the accuser an undisclosed sum of money, and everyone from the league agreeing to never ever ever ever ever mention the event again.
One of these players always says the smooth thing in interviews, transitions eerily from personality to personality depending on his audience, and makes $16 million a year in endorsements.
The other player shares casual anecdotes with reporters about dudes from his neighborhood getting mortally impaled with chair legs, and couldn't get an endorsement deal with Zangrilli's Bail Bonds if he tried.
(Turns out that anecdote is actually true, by the way...)
One player is singularly obsessed with his legacy in the eyes of mainstream. The other seems to care only about his reputation among folks back home.
And by the way, these guys are locked in a 1-1 series that also features top-level coaching, a dozen intriguing match-up combinations, and two of three best centers in league. And they seemed like they were about to fight each other in Game 2.
Drama all the way around.
As for sides, I'll take Ron-Ron every time. Say what you will about the man, but at least he's authentic. As much as you can with any athlete, I know who Ron Artest is and I know what he's guilty of (other than being caught film acting like a thug in a league that couldn't afford that kind of imagery...but that's a whole other column.) He's guilty of losing his temper and trying to fight somebody when he felt under attack.
Not excusable but also not exactly something most of us are in a position to throw stones over either.
As for Kobe, I'm really not sure...either what he's guilty of or who he is. The guy has just always struck me as creepy. Call it subjective or irrational, if you want. I'd say it's emotional more than anything else.
Which is exactly what that drama is all about.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Mid-Series Meditation II: Dr. Jekll and Mr. Hyde
In anticipation of tomorrow's game, another mid-series meditation from reformed mass-hole, Jeffrey Coots:
"Before launching into psychoanalysis of the Round 2 Celts, it seemed appropriate to share a few closing thoughts on the Round 1 series against the Baby Bulls that everyone was hyping last week as one of the best in NBA history.
The cyclical nature of sports means that without a thriller in Game 7, people will forget about any great match-up after a few years. Unfortunately, both teams looked tired, played sloppy and otherwise fell into the mold prescribed to them by countless TNT/ESPN talking heads: Boston’s experience and modified Big 3 of Pierce/Allen/Rondo will triumph over Chicago’s streaky shooters and youthful bigs (have a nice off season Joakim). One of my co-workers also made a good point that the law of averages usually bares out, and the shots that helped the Bulls to stretch it to seven games ended up catching a lot of iron on Saturday night.
Personally, I was exhausted by this series. Watching your team lose several multiple-overtime games is not good for the psyche, even if you feel secure in their eventual triumph. Not to mention the fact that there were three days between every game so we were given an extra 24-hours to mull over the poor decisions and blown defensive assignments that cost us the win. Fortunately, we’re behind the West right now, so we’ll play every other night the rest of the way through.
Now that Boston is facing the Orlando Magic, led by the Tony-Hopeful Dwight Howard, the match-up challenges have completely flopped for the Celts. Injured bigs Garnett and Powe are joined on the sideline by Mikki Moore who has struggled to learn the Celtics’ unique system of help defense. This means that Perkins, Baby Davis and everyone’s new favorite Jerry’s Kid, Brian Scalabrine, need to avoid foul trouble if there’s any chance of Boston earning the right to be the lamb to the slaughter in the Eastern Finals.
I actually watched Game 1 from a bar, so I didn’t get to hear any in-game commentary from the folks at TNT, but it looked as though the Celtics didn’t really want to be there. Anytime you give up a 26-6 run to close the half, you obviously don’t care much about the game. This is our Dr Jekll personality—passive, friendly, emotionally stunted—and this is where we miss Garnett the most. Especially when Pierce falls back into the “Well, I’m doing what I need to do,” mentality and shuts down his passing game. This also makes it two rounds in a row that we’ve dropped game one at home to a lower seed.
Throughout the game I found myself wondering what the hell J.J. Redick was doing on the floor. Honestly I wasn’t even aware he was still in the NBA and he ended up murdering us from 3-point land. What’s in store for us next round? Greg Paulus coming off the bench for the Cavs to shut down Rondo? Oh right, he got benched his senior season so he’s trying to play football now.
For Game 2, the Ubuntu Juice was flowing freely in the locker room before the game and the Celts came out with the most energy I’ve seen since, well, Game 2 of last series when they realized they probably couldn’t drop the first two games at home and still advance. The Celts’ Mr. Hyde was fully unleashed when Rondo completed his triple-double by dunking right in Dwight Howard’s face in the middle of the third quarter. Now don’t get me wrong, Rondo doesn’t have a chance if Howard was playing with the slightest bit of intensity, but Howard never even attempted to block the shot. I’m actually surprised Orlando even put a squad on the floor for the fourth quarter. Charles Barkley said it best at halftime – Orlando showed up content to split in Boston and go back to Orlando with home court advantage. All in all, not a very exciting game, but there are a few sub-plots developing for the Celts in this series.
The Celtics bench is desperately shallow right now. Brian Scalabrine is our 7th man and threatening to become the 6th, playing 27 and 35 minutes, respectively, in the first two games. Last night the TNT trailer guys put up a split screen between Scal and Jackie Moon. I don’t even know how to respond to that. And this is in stark contrast to Mickael Pietrus, who is surprisingly athletic and played 32 and 37 minutes in the first two games dropping 17 both nights.
After a solid Game 1 where he toyed with relevance, Starburry settled back into his usual bullshit. I think what I enjoy most about his game is that after he passes up a good, in-rhythm shot that makes sense to our offense he likes to follow it up by taking an incredibly long or wild shot on the next possession, and he usually manages to do this with more than 12 seconds on the shot clock. Clearly he and Mikki Moore have not panned out the way Danny Ainge had hoped.
As for the whole Eddie House/Rafer Alston smack upside the head…Remember earlier in the season when we were hearing opposing teams complain about how much shit the Celtics were talking before, during and after games? This seems be one of the side effects of Garnett’s defensive intensity/borderline insanity that he brought from Minnesota last year. Eddie is certainly one of the worst offenders in this department and his mouth will likely earn Rafer at least a one-game suspension for his dope slap late in the third quarter. Van Gundy knew enough to put Rafer on the bench for the rest of the game, but Doc left Eddie in to run up the score and reach a personal best of 31 points in a playoff game.
Classy, that’s how we do it in Beantown.
So this series really depends on which Celtics team shows up each night, and the same can be said for the Magic. Neither team looks much like a title contender right now, although that may change. I’d hate for the Celts to stretch it to 7 games again when the Cavs look poised to sweep, but that might be what it takes to fend off an up-and-coming Orlando team. I’ll do my part and drink my share of Ubuntu Juice on Friday night, and I know the rest of the Brotherhood will do the same. We’ll have to wait and see if King Garnett manages to spike the G on the road in Orlando."
Monday, May 4, 2009
Goodbye, Detriot Dream!
It used to be there were only a couple ways to win an NBA championship.
Way back when, before this LeBron character came on the scene there were really only two types of teams you could build, if wanted to contend.
The first type of team was tried and true: call it the Two Superstar Model. It involved signing or trading for two (three if you were really lucky) elite scorers and building around them as best you can with one-dimensional, complimentary players.
This is the prototype that brought titles to Miami, San Antonio, and Boston, and resulted in a three-peat in LA. It was consistently dominant, if not exciting.
The second type of team was more distinctive, idiosyncratic even, but all the more tantalizing for its rarity.
When the 2003-2004 Detriot Pistons raised the Larry O’Brien trophy as the world’s greatest basketball team, they raised a few eyebrows along with it. Not only did they lack the requisite two elite scorers, they didn’t really have even one.
Instead they won with defense, with chemistry, and with balance. They moved the ball and feed off each other’s energy. They played smart and tough, and they didn’t really have to share the spotlight, because there wasn’t much spotlight on them to begin with.
You could make the argument that 2004 was the strangest NBA season we’ve had in recent memory and the Pistons couldn’t have done it any other year, and you’d probably be right. But they still won a championship. An NBA title is never a fluke; the play-offs are too long, the format too exhaustive. The Pistons won four consecutive seven-game series and came up in the clutch every time the money was on the table. In the process, they created a new blueprint for success in professional basketball that, for a moment, made the game a little more exciting.
Just five years later, we forget how remarkable Detriot was that year. The most prominent member of that team – and the only all-star – was an undrafted, 6-9 center who had been acquired basically as a throw-away player in a sign and trade with Grant Hill. Ben Wallace averaged a devastatingly-ordinary 9.5 points per game that season, and subsequent seasons have demonstrated that this was just about his offensive ceiling.
The scoring came by unorthodox ensemble: Rip Hamilton (17.6) was the fanatically restless shooting guard, who earned his buckets not from high-flying penetration but by being more active off the ball than anyone in the league. Tayshaun Prince (10.3) was the lock-down perimeter defender and occasional three-point specialist. Mehmet Okur (9.6) was the spark coming off the bench, creating match-up problems with his size and shooting touch. And Rasheed was Rasheed (13.7), raining corner threes, protecting the paint on defense, and bringing a locker room swagger to a team that nobody believed could win the title.
The only player likely to remembered as special in any kind of historical sense is Chauncey Billups, who along with Jason Kidd, redefined the point guard position with a dangerous combination of size, physicality, and intelligence. But despite his continued dominance at the position - witness last week's round 1 evisceration of Chris Paul - Chauncey isn't exactly a superstar. He's the kind of guy you'll tell your grandkids about - not the kind of guy that they'll know about on their own.
When the Pistons knocked out the LA in the famous "five game sweep", they defeated a team with four undisputed hall of famers. The Laker organization considered their playoff loss to San Antonio the previous year as some kind of fluke, and had assembled that 04 squad to dominate by sheer, overwhelming superstar power.
Instead, they were dismantled by a bunch of guys that casual fans had never heard of.
America celebrated, Kobe complained, Phil Jackson quit, and a new kind of dynasty seemed possible.
Unfortunately, the Pistons were never quite able to replicate that initial triumph. They made it to four more Conference Champions, but never got another title. Then came the Iverson trade, swapping the team's most indispensable component for a guy who couldn't even finish the season.
This year, the Pistons were unceremoniously swept in the first round by Lebron and company, and frankly looked terrible.
So where do the Pistons go from here? With the cap money likely to come off their books thanks to Allen Iverson, the prevailing opinion is that Joe Dumars will go after a mega-star or two in the summer of 2010. If he succeeds, Detroit could be back at the top of the Eastern Conference hunt in no time.
But everyone knows it won’t be the same. The Cinderella Champs, the Pistons that took it all the way with nothing but hard-nosed defense, quirky chemistry, and unselfish balance are officially done.
Is there anybody out there to fill their shoes? Portland and Denver are both built around intriguing mixes, but does anybody think they're true contenders at this point?
Interestingly, the team that once looked like a possible successor to the Detriot model, the Utah Jazz, just finished getting shellacked in the first round almost as badly as Pistons did. Two years ago, Utah looked like a fascinating combination of several multi-dimensional talents on the verge of making a huge leap.
Now, they look like a mismatched web of overlapping, flawed individualists who all hate each other.
Ironically, the only team that seems poised to win one or more titles over the next few years without the luxury of two superstars will do it with less, rather than more, balance. If the collective talents of 2004 Pistons were rare, the individual talents of Lebron James are even rarer.
But before The King takes his crown, before the long reign begins, we ought to take a moment and remember Detroit and the dream of the Superstar-Less Dynasty. Like a lot of dreams, it was short-lived and perhaps a little silly.
But it sure was to fun, for a few years, to keep the dream alive.
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