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Talking Hoops

Talking Hoops with Talk Hoops: Vol. III

by Jared Wade on June 4, 2009 at 6:07 pm

From time to time, me and Zach Harper of TalkHoops.net discuss the goings-on about the Association over a series of emails. We started this time-honored tradition back in March and re-upped with another series during the First Round of the Playoffs. And being the trill cats that we is, we had to bring you the conclusion of this trillogy for the NBA Finals.

Below, we start off with me emailing Zach and go on to discuss all aspects of Magics/Lakers, quote some movies, debate Michael Phelps, wonder what Oklahoma City will do if there is inclement weather and reminisce the ruse that Avery Johnson did not appreciate. And if you would like to read this on a better website, head over to check out the Talkhoops version.

Enjoy.

dwight-kobe

Zachary,

Magic. Lakers. Marbles. All of em. Who you got?

After a grueling season with all the unexpected twists and turns surrounding Cleveland’s collapse, Denver’s ascension, NOLA’s decline and Boston’s pride, it is sort of refreshing to be down to just one meaningful question: Will LA’s collection of talent be enough to beat the Magic’s talented collection? To me, that’s what the NBA Finals will ultimately hinge upon: Will the Lakers talented triumvirate of Kobe, Pau and Odom* dominate enough to hold off what may be a more consistent, more unified group of less talented, less versatile players?

I imagine most people think Orlando will lose. My initial reaction is to say the same. Then again, there’s something scary about this Magic team. They have something intangible. They never seem out of a game. They can win on jumpshots alone. They play better defense than you think. They have the best rebounder in the League. They don’t truly rely on a single player to score. (They have six players who have scored at least 15 points in a game this postseason while the Lakers have only four).

People, including myself, like to harp on Superman’s lack of post moves as one of this team’s Achilles’ heels. But if he just hung 26 points and 13 rebounds per game on an immobile-yet-still-7′3″ Big Z, what is he going to do to a finesse player like Pau? Sure, they have Bynum, but does anyone expect him to be anything other than glued to the bench in foul trouble most of the Finals? And if Andrew isn’t seeing more than 15-20 mpg, leaving Dwight free to roam the paint against a post duo of Pau and Lamar, he might make the 17 rebounds per game he averaged against Perk and Big Baby in the Celtics series look like a mere appetizer. Kobe and the Lakers will certainly rule the mid-range game with their triangle offense, but if Dwight is dominating the middle and Hedo/Shard/Pietrus/JJ are owning the long-range game, will the Lakers skillful execution really be enough of an advantage for the Lakers to win?

I dunno. My brain still tells me that Los Angeles will get it done. But, in some ways, this feels a little like 2004 again. Sure, Shaq/Kobe/Glove/Mailman probably win that trophy if Karl Malone doesn’t blow out his knee, but this Orlando cast is giving off the same cohesive-if-unproven vibe that we saw from the Pistons five years ago.

Am I dumb?

Yours Truthfully,
Jared

* P.S. As far as basketball players go, I still prefer Trevor Ariza to Odom ten times out of ten, but highlighting Lamar and his wild, possibly Willy Wonka-induced inconsistency makes much more sense for the theme of this email. Also, Mousy says he stink-fingered Bunny Cote.

dwightsuperman

Ja’red,

So this is what all of the coverage, “News Fit to Six,” “Eight-Second Violations,” “10-Man Rotations,” “Weekly Fix” podcasts, morning “Cups of Coffee,” “Fundamentals” and hundreds of thousands of typed out words about trades, capes, green shoes, running versus defense, and puppets have all come down to, eh?

There are no more LeBron dunks, J.R. Smith threes, Birdman arm flaps, Shaq crossed-eyes, Chris Paul crossed defenders, or Ron Artest YouTube interviews. We don’t have LeBron versus Kobe. We don’t have Carmelo versus LeBron. Hell, we don’t even have an opportunity to judge Paul Pierce’s fake injuries against the value of Kobe Bryant’s faked friendships with teammates.

But we do have Dwight Howard and his band of merry men going against Kobe and the people he has to travel with. And I am actually a lot more excited about this than I thought I’d be.

The reason I’m excited is the exact NBA Playoff history moment that you mentioned — the 2004 NBA Finals. It really is the battle between imminent chaos and supreme cohesion. The Magic is a rowdy, fiery, bonded roster who lives and dies by that Larry Bird line and relies on the dominance of a manchild who has career averages of 17.3 points and 12.5 rebounds before the age of 24. But even the numbers aren’t as impressive as the fact that he believes he’s 20% of what he COULD be. 20%!!! Not only is he completely capable of dominating a series without a reliable post move (helps when he’s guarded by a 65-year old Lithuanian man with bad feet) but he thinks that he’s not very good while doing so.

And here’s the real kicker with him. Have we ever had a player who was not only the next big thing/great big man in the NBA while at the same time being the clear-cut best big center in basketball? He’s at the top of the playing field at his respective position and yet has nowhere to go but up. If I was ordering a player as a drink that I wanted to replicate the essence of Dwight Howard, I’d be asking for one part humility with two parts strength and three parts of ceiling-less potential and a splash of vermouth (because that seems to go in stuff, right?). I’d light it on fire, blow out the flame, and serve it to my fans with a twist of lime and a small umbrella for a little flare.

On the other hand, there’s Andrew Bynum. Pretty much the antithesis to Dwight Howard’s career. He’s been saddled with a severe knee injury for two straight years. He’s as confident as he is capable of pulling off a crossover dribble against Alvin Robertson and yet tries to exude an aura of belonging that I haven’t sensed as being as forced since I watched Mikey in Swingers try to impress a girl by saying that not only did he drive a Cavalier but that it was also red as if that was going to open the floodgates. With Bynum, he’s always a sense of rejection away from getting hammered, calling an assistant coach on the phone, and babbling incessantly into an answering machine until Brian Shaw picks up the phone and asks him to never call back.

We assume that as long as Howard can have his way inside, the Magic will overpower any defense with the mismatches and three-pointers that result from double teams. But what about stopping Kobe? We assume Mickael Pietrus will guard him but it’s not like guarding LeBron James. LeBron can be forced into being a stagnant jump shooting player if you pack it in. Kobe is too relentless and smart to allow that to happen.

So before I begin to pontificate about the possible outcome of this series I have to ask you, is Kobe Bryant facing the perfect team for him to win a title against by himself? Or will the Magic tweak what they did to beat LeBron and see if it can bottle up the Mamba?

Anticipating Thursday Night,
Zach

P.S. – You have to prepare me before you start dropping Outside Providence references like that. I nearly fried my keyboard with some Aquafina.

la_lakers_kobe_bryant

To Whom It May Concern,

Allusions, Zach. References are something a whore does for money…or candy.

Kobe, and really anyone in the high post, should be able to dissect this defense. We may see a record number of midrange jumpers made by one team in an NBA Finals. Between Pau on the baseline and Kobe burying contested Js right in front of any of Cort Lee, Mike Piet or H to the E-Doe, it’s going to be a 15-footer barrage all game, every game. Mamba is definitely gonna get his.

Then again, I really don’t think he will even try to win a title by himself. Much like he was during Kobe Doin’ Work, Mr. Bryant is well-aware that the world will be watching. And, sure, he’s probably still sour about the physical gauntlet that the Celtics ran him through last June that caused him to shy away from driving to the hoop, but I still think that he will do as best as he can to defer to his teammates when they can be trusted. He knows he needs those guys—particularly Lamar—to play well to win another title and cement his legacy on Mount Olympus. So I think he will definitely try to trust the other guys. But we all know his teammates will at times prove themselves untrustworthy. And in those halves, he will take over and finish the game with 35-40. But on the flipside, I wouldn’t be surprised to see a few sub-25-point/over-7-assist games from #24 either if the other guys are holding up their end of the bargain.

If you’re the Magic, that’s the last thing you want to see. You want Kobe taking bad shots, just like you mentioned with LeBron. If Stan Van Gundy is smart — and I sometimes feel like I’m the only one who really, really thinks he is — he will have Dwight spend most of his time locking down Pau (again, presuming Bynum isn’t playing too much) and then put heavy, multi-defender pressure on Kobe whenever he goes off the bounce. I mean, that’s what you have to do against LA right? Do whatever you can to stop the two All-NBA guys and make Lamar, Trevor, Andrew, Derek, Jordan, Shannon, Sasha and Luke beat you. They sound like an eight-member mediocre boy band for shit-sake; you have to challenge them to score.

Then, when Kobe predictably gets frustrated with the predictably shoddy play of his erratic posse, he’ll start forcing some bad shots. And when that happens, the Lakers become beatable. In their seven Playoff losses, Kobe shot 39.3%. In their twelve Playoff wins, he shot 50.8%. Getting Kobe to shoot poorly is half the battle. The other half? You guessed it: Frank Stallone. (Did I use that last time? Am I already recycling material over here?)

But while it’s fun to talk about Kobe, Kobe, Kobe, he’s not really the most important player in this series, now is he? For the Lakers, it all comes down to Lamar really, right? If he scores like he should be able to, the Lakers definitely win. But does anyone really think Odom will be consistent? Look at his point totals going backwards since the Utah series ended: 20, 19, 5, 8, 10, 7, 6, 8, 10, 2, 16, 7, 9. Seriously, who does that? How can your third option go eight straight Playoff games without scoring more than 10 points? It’s baffling really.

Moving on…Dwight is indeed a monster. Like you say, he’s already so good and he’s still so raw. It’s absolutely unbelievable to think how good he will get. Not could get. Will get. As a 6′, overweight, 28-year-old who nearly sprained his ankle after making a fairly uncontested lay up last night in a men’s league game, it almost pisses me off. (We’re now Playoff-bound, baby, following my season high 18/15 yesterday.)

Physically, he’s the most insane athlete on the planet. I love people who like to toss around names like Lance Armstrong or Michael Phelps for candidates as the best athlete alive. If you can honestly look at those two guys and then look at Dwight Howard and tell me there is even a discussion to be had, I probably don’t want to even be in the same room as you. As Kenny Powers would say, Dwight plays real sports, not tryna be the best at exercising. Or, because I’m an equal-opportunity allusion-er, if Dwight Howard woke up tomorrow with Michael Phelps’ athletic ability, he would jump out of a fucking window.

As Salamu Alaykum,
Dragon

boy-band

Dragon,

Sprained ankle and yet, you still drop an 18/15 and grab a playoff berth? I heard Jordan played with the sniffles once but that’s some heroic shit right there. It reminds me of the time my rec league was securing a victory and just had to make free throws and run out the clock. I got the ball around half court, and the next thing I knew I was laying on the ground and being asked if I was okay. I was knocked out cold by the guy who was trying to foul me. I stepped to the line with double vision and a burgeoning migraine. Knocked them down cold. Mo Williams doesn’t have anything on me. But I’ll stop talking about my rec league war story, stop myself from talking about the time I lost on a great poker hand or when I won my fantasy baseball league.

But before I switch to basketball speak, I have to address your athleticism comparison between Dwight Howard, Michael Phelps and Lance Armstrong. I respect the hell out of what Lance can do and I’m willing to put my undying hatred for Phelps aside to recognize that he’s the best at what he does. But for crying out loud, are they really athletes? I mean, they’re really good at forms of transportation and that’s it. Lance is the best at getting from point A to point B on a bicycle against the surrendering-est competitors in the world. And Phelps is the best guy at getting from point A to point B in a liquid environment since Aquaman was a relevant superhero reference. But what they do isn’t athletics. It’s competition but it’s not athletics. I’m sure a lot of people will disagree with me on that but I fail to find the difference between what they do and what Jeff Gordon does. It’s competitive transportation that is street legal unlike your Fast and Furious contestants.

But anyway, let’s talk some more hoops.

Lamar is an interesting fellow and I’m not exactly tearing down the fourth wall here. But think about it. The guy has been high as a kite since he came into the league and I think he actually plays better that way. His best and most interesting years have been in LA whether he’s a Clip or Lake. He was fine and good in Miami but nobody was really giving a care about him on the East coast. But he had his own dealer on the West, he apparently prefers the Malibu Beach Clubs to the Eastern sands like he’s trying to win a club volleyball game with Zack Morris (I’m assuming my readers are expecting a Saved By the Bell reference and I like to accommodate all six of them whenever I can).

But what exactly does Lamar have to do? Isn’t your best bet to play Pau Gasol on Dwight, Ariza on Shard, Kobe on Hedo, Lamar on Pietrus/Cort Lee and Jordan Farmar on Jameer Nelson/Rafer Alston? Can Pau handle Dwight physically? No, not at all. But with Lamar roving around like Jackie Moon on defense, the Lakers are long enough to get out on the Orlando shooters and bother the shot. There’s a difference between Trevor Ariza Jumping Jack Flash at your long range jumper and having Delonte West trying to distract with that presumed Valtrex nemesis on his lip when he doesn’t come past your shoulders. He could help deny Dwight or double down on him quickly and allow the perimeter length and quickness to cause turnovers and bad shots. Seems like a perfect defense for the outside shooting offense of Staniel’s boys.

But there are three problems I have with assuming the Lakers are going to win this series and it involves the following:

1) You’re relying on Andrew Bynum to be competent on the biggest basketball stage in the world against the strongest man to ever walk this court.

2) The Lakers are actually quite terrible at defending the three. Orlando is quite proficient at shooting the three. The Pythagorean Transitive somethingorother tells me that this could be problematic for the Lake Show.

3) What do we make of this whole Jameer Nelson thing? I don’t know how to take it. He could be the Willis Reed of St. Joseph’s. He could be what KG was supposed to be in the playoffs this year. He could inject a sense of life and confidence that the Magic couldn’t have mustered on their own by having him knock down the first two jumpers of the series against Derek Fisher, swagger back up the court, and proclaim that he is unguaradable in a Kobe-mocking way. But then again, couldn’t he be neutralized by a confident Jordan Farmar? Jam On It hasn’t played in four months. He’s not in game shape no matter how good Kelly Dwyer tells me he looks in practice. He can get by against Derek Fisher but if Jordan Farmar is right, it’s almost unfair to Orlando fans to have to watch that.

What say you, Dragon?

L’Haim,
Coach Harper

jameer nelson blue man group

Nighthawk,

I forgot that you are now Coach Harper. How is the pride of Sacramento JV basketball looking this year?

Given that you know a bunch about basketball, you were probably going to be decent at this whole endeavor anyway. But more importantly, the name Coach Harper should instill a lot of confidence among the burgeoning yutes you will be instructing. It sounds a lot like Coach Carter, and while I haven’t actually ever seen that movie because it looks like the same nonsensical, melodramatic tale of urban empowerment that can be seen in such cinematic marvels as Finding Forrester or Dangerous Minds, the writers at least blessed Samuel L. Jackson with a good name. (Was that flick actually any good? You’ve seen every basketball movie ever right?)

I think that whole name thing is pretty important. Everyone expects a Coach Knight, Coach Riley or Coach Sloan to be great, but it really shows how good guys are when they can overcome harder-to-sell names like Coach Krzyzewski, Coach D’Antoni or Coach Of The Black. Within this NBA Finals, Coach Jackson is obviously solid, but I’m not sure exactly where Coach Van Gundy falls. At this point, it’s sort of hard to separate the name itself from the unadulterated awesomeness that is the Brothers Jeff and Stan, so I can’t even call it objectively. (Side note: Can you please promise to never where a mockneck t-shirt under a blazer while on the sidelines? I don’t even need a tie, but just put on a collar would ya?)

Sometimes you just know a coach is doomed from the beginning. Coach Ivaroni? Good luck with that one, dude. I will pay $20 to the person who can find me video of Rudy Gay pronouncing that guy’s name correctly. And I like the young guy in Miami a lot, but the jury is definitely not in on whether or not Coach Spoelstra can overcome the fact that his last name rhymes with a synthetic potato chip oil that had to be discontinued after people, for some reason, complained that it caused anal leakage.

But I digress.

You also mentioned Lance the biker and Phelps the swimmer and in so doing you elegantly articulated my sentiments on the matter. Essentially, it comes down to the fact that there are two different types of things that people are talking about when they say someone is athletic: Physical feats of repetitive motion or athletic feats of prowess in sports.

These things should never be confused. Running a marathon is a physical feat of repetitive motion. Bench-pressing 350 lbs a dozen times is a physical feat of repetitive motion. The ability to instantaneously cutback from a roving linebacker’s pursuit is an athletic feat of prowess in sports. Catching a bounce pass on the wing, reversing direction with a spin dribble into the lane and then catapulting your body into the air to assault a seven-footer with posterized embarrassment is an athletic feat of prowess. Lance Armstrong can do the bike thing better than anyone ever, but he should never be confused with Barry Sanders. Michael Phelps is a borderline dolphin, but he should never be confused with LeBron James.

To me, golf is more of a sport than swimming or cycling. At least in golf the repetitive motion of swinging a club is different each time and you have to continually react to a changing landscape. Of course, when Tiger leisurely walks up to a ball in the rough and has to react to ever-changing wind speed, obstacles and pin positions it’s not exactly Walter Payton reacting to Ronnie Lott filling the B gap, but there is a lot more to a round of golf than there is a 200-meter individual medley. Maybe if Phelps had to swim in the 12-foot swells off the North Shore of Oahu or had to confront a school of piranha it would be different. But if your biggest challenge other than trying to go fast is staying in between the lane buoys, I’m not sure that counts as a sport.

Speaking of piranhas, how is it that we have teams in our Association named the Heat, the Magic and the Thunder but not a single one called the Pittsburgh Piranhas? As much as I love Dwyane Wade, the fact that a team that doesn’t end in “s” won an NBA Championship still bothers me. There are hundreds of good s-pluralized names left from the animal kingdom alone and we really have a team called the Thunder? Even some lame crap like the the Oklahoma City Orges or the Otters or the Orangutans would be better. Or why not bring back the Oilers? Or just go can’t-miss with the Tigers, the Devils or the Bears. Why isn’t there a professional sports team called the Rhinos? Originality should not trump logic and decades of proud pluralized name tradition. And none of the Thunder, the Heat or the Magic are even tangible nouns either. What were you planning to do about a mascot? No wonder Orlando and Okay City have such dumb logos. The stupidity of the dunces who settled on these team names is just staggering and it probably represents the only non-Trevor Ariza reason that I would enjoy watching the Magicians lose badly.
Speaking of Orlando, I should probably at least pretend to give some more insight on the Finals. You brought up what to me will be the most interesting thing to watch: How will these teams guard each other’s big men?

Andrew Bynum complicates the whole thing. From the Lakers standpoint, it makes sense to start Bynum as they have been doing because Pau will get dunked on by Dwight at least 12 times per night. Now, Bynum is not Bill Russell neither, but he is bigger, stronger and more physical, and can presumably at least lean on the big fella to keep him from getting any position he wants.

But if the Lakers do put Bynum on Dwight then that means Pau is supposed to stop Rashard on the perimeter? Ummm, yeah, that’s not happening.

So wouldn’t it make more sense for Phil to just concede that Dwight is unguardable by everyone and just put Pau on him anyway so he can go small by putting Lamar on Shard? You never want to make reactionary changes to what you do just for match-up purposes, but sometimes you just have to do what makes sense. Put Pau on Dwight. Put Lamar on Shard. Put Ariza on Turk. Put Kobe on Lee. And put Fish on Rafer/Jameer (although I’m not convinced that Nelson should even bother suiting up at all).

Then again, if the Lakers just go Bynum/Pau/Ariza/Kobe/Fish as scheduled, it does present just as big of a problem for the Magic. Rashard Lewis is supposed to guard Pau? Riiiiight. Let me know how that works out. My prediction: Comedy.

Putting Hedo on Ariza and Lee/Pietrus on Kobe should be fine, but the fact that Rashard is a SF playing in a PF’s body really makes this whole match up thing interesting— especially when the Magic’s only other bigs are Marcin Gortat and Tony Battie and the Lakers only other big after Bynum/Pau is DJ Mbenga. (I’m not counting Lamar.) Have we ever seen this many teams without a surplus of disposable bigs on the bench? The Celtics had the same issue. I guess the days of keeping a few Joe Kleines, Rasho Nesterovics, Greg Fosters or Will Purdues around for good measure are truly over. I can’t be the only one disappointed about that. The token white seven-footer: Just another casualty of the Sixth Extinction.

I wish I had more insight on Jameer, but I don’t. He can’t be very good right now though. He’s not a great shooter to begin with and while his floorgeneralability really impressed me earlier this year, it’s not like he’s going to jump right back into the offense and start orchestrating things that much better than Rafer. I suppose it would help out Orlando to give Anthony Johnson’s minutes to Jameer and there may be some uplifting aspect to it for the team, but I just don’t see his presence on the court being much of a difference maker.

Then again, I never thought Nelson was going to any better than a middling point guard in this League as recently as eight months ago…so what do I know?

You Know What’s Good for Shoulder Pain?,
J-Weighed

michael-phelps-underwater

Hambone,

Know that the pride of Sacramento JV basketball is looking good. It’s looking real good. We don’t have very good athletes, even for JV. We don’t have exceptional height by any means and we’ll probably be shorter than just about every team we face. But we do have one thing that just can’t be beat. We have smart kids who know how to play the game of basketball. Now, they aren’t exactly John Stockton level basketball IQs patrolling the floor. But for their level, they’re really skilled and fairly knowledgeable of what they need to do on the court. And I have to say that I’m completely hooked on this coaching endeavor. I can’t imagine myself NOT coaching and it’s only been three weeks. Hell, I’m not even the head coach; I’m the assistant and I can’t get enough of it.

I have yutes looking up to me and asking for my help or my method for fixing their shooting form, dribbling style, and technique on running a pick and roll. And I have to think that a big part of that respect is because of the name. I’m not going to lie; Coach Harper is a hell of a name. Ron Harper could start coaching the Kings tomorrow and have them in the NBA Finals just based off of his name. Mike Dunleavy isn’t a bad coach. He’s a mediocre coach with a terrible name. Coach Curry in Motown is doomed for failure because nobody is going to say that name and take the organization seriously. Some names command thoughts of Rudy Gay outtakes for the jumbotron. Some names command thoughts of anal leakage causes. And some names command thoughts of a level of respect that any retail assistant manager can only dream of having. And I have my parents to thank for that.

As for Coach Carter, I have to say I’m a big fan. Everything you’ve stated about your assumptions of it being “the same nonsensical, melodramatic tale of urban empowerment that can be seen in such cinematic marvels as Finding Forrester or Dangerous Minds” are completely true. But there are two things that get you past that to invest in the story and enjoy the movie. 1) It’s based on a true story and fairly accurate too. That’s always a good starting point. If I knew that Sunset Park was 15 years removed from being a true happening, I would have been much more interested in it. Instead, I was confused by the fact that Rhea Pearlman was walking around with a hairstyle that replicated armpit hair. And 2) before the movie was shot, they put the actors into a basketball program to make sure that they looked the part on the court. There was actual real basketball that was light years ahead of the abomination that was Leo DiCaprio on the court in Basketball Diaries. You have those two elements and you can make any basketball movie work. Just like in Eddie.

You bring up excellent points about bad team names and what constitutes an activity qualifying as a sport. I don’t doubt that riding your bike through the mountains for two weeks is a difficult thing to do. But chess can be equally as grueling in a completely different way. Just because something is hard doesn’t mean that it quantifies calling it a sport. Playing checkers with the difficulty all the way up on my iPhone app can be pretty damn intensive and cause a level of focus and strategy that only an Army General could appreciate. Just because I happen to play it from time and time and break a sweat doesn’t mean that I’m going to start lobbying for it to be an Olympic event.

As for team names, I’ll never comprehend why naming a team after the least impressive form of weather is more awe-inspiring than the Atlanta Braves naming their mascot after a fearsome Native American warrior who’s wielding a tomahawk across the chest of the uniform. That isn’t offensive to me. What’s offensive is knowing that their are three giant communities of fans in the NBA who have no idea how to structure a sentence with verb and numerical agreement while they try to write about their favorite basketball team.

What I love about this NBA Finals is that it WILL involve a ton of coaching and tweaks in order to come up with the final result. In the past, a lot of years you were able to just roll the ball out onto the court and let the talent speak for itself. But this year, there are more mismatches than a five-year old’s outfit after they dress themselves for school. For the Lakers, they have to decide what mismatch can do more damage for them as opposed to against them. If they go big with Bynum guarding Howard and Pau guarding Shard, it’s going to turn into a mismatch on both ends. Pau can’t stick Shard on the perimeter, which leaves open the opportunities for three-point hail storms. On the other end, Pau will annihilate Shard in the post. Does Phil Jackson trust Pau to shoot 60% from the field while keeping Shard to under 40% from three? I don’t know that you can run that risk in case it’s the one time that the odds go against you.

Instead you have to go small, only it’s not anything like Don Nelson tricking Avery Johnson to change their philosophy. The Lakers are a team with multiple identities. They win with big play. They win with small ball. They win with defense and with offense. They can come at you on the runway with more than just Blue Steel. They have every trick in the bag and it often leads to them pulling their underwear out of their pants without dropping trou while the opponent’s left with a self-inflicted wedgie/melvin and a loss. But is their small better than Orlando’s normal?

Before I end up giving my final take and prediction on this series, I’ve got to know exactly where you stand and the reason’s you stand for it. Predictions are contrite, tired, and essentially meaningless. But with a maximum of just seven games left in this season, now is as good as time as any to say what you think will happen.

What say you, chief export of Maine?

Anticipatorily,
Zach

73920294BB004_Golden_State_

Best Friend One to Best Friend Two,

That Don Nelson tricking Avery Johnson thing is exactly why I’m not sure if Phil should alter the starting lineup at all. Obviously, you need to tweak your rotations depending on your opponent, but changing the starters is quite the concession (particularly if you do it midway through the series since it seems Coach Jackson is definitely going with Bynum tonight).
As for a winner, I really have no idea.

Aside from the Lakers last year and the Pistons in 2004, I can’t recall ever being wrong about who will win a Finals in my adult life. That’s one of the main reasons I like the NBA more than every other League. In football, with its one-and-done playoff system, there are inevitably times when the league champion is not the best team. I don’t think that even the most ardent Giants fan thinks that Eli and company could have beaten the Patriots three times our of five. Baseball does have a seven-game series, but you also have situations where an out-of-his-mind Josh Beckett allows only 8 hits and strikes out 19 in 16 innings over four days. As a Red Sox fan, I would never discount Beckett’s Playoff cajones, but his 2003 World Series performance still represents somewhat of a sustained anomaly that may have swung that series to the overall less talented Marlins. In the NBA, you rarely have a case where the Champion was only the best team in the world for that particular day or for that particular two-week period. Almost always, the winner is undisputedly the best team in the League.

And, usually, that fact is already clear before the Finals even begin. Since I’ve been watching, the NBA Finals has been less of a contest and more of a coronation. We fully expected MJ to beat the Mailman and we celebrated Mike as he did it. Same with Shaq’s Lakers. Same with Timmy’s Spurs.

But this year, I don’t think too many objective people think either team is going to dominate the other. Obviously, Vegas has the Lakers as big favorites. And the most common “expert” predictions I’ve seen from media members is “Lakers in 6.” But I don’t think too many people would see an Orlando win as a Buster Douglas moment. I dunno. Maybe I’m overrating the Magic.

If you really need my guess, I’ll take the Lakers — mainly based on the fact that it’s really hard to see Kobe letting his team lose two consecutive Finals. But then again, I can also see Dwight Howard saying this after he puts up 42/28 in Game 1 tonight: “It’s zero hour, JA Adande. I’m the first best center in the NBA. I’m sick of playing second fiddle. I’m always third in line for everything. I’m tired of finishing fourth. Being the fifth wheel. There are six things I’m mad about. And I’m taking over.”

The comical part of this whole thing — and the reason everyone should take both my and everyone else’s prediction with a grain of salt — is that the team we were expecting to coronate this week was the Cavs. I went so far as to joke around about a Cleveland pulling a Fo’, Fo’, Fo’ in the Eastern Conference before the Boston/Orlando series even finished. (What I mean by that is that the Cavs were going to go 4-0, 4-0 and 4-0 in their first three series regardless of whether they played the Celtics or the Magic).

Now the consensus seems to be that the team that just not only defeated but destroyed the unsinkable Cavs stands little chance against the clearly flawed Lakers. I can’t say I’m surprised that our collective sports world conscience no longer has any self-awareness of where it stood just two weeks ago, but even if you understandably want to blame Cleveland’s failings on a disgusting performance by Mo Williams and a “what happened to these guys?” front court, the fact remains that the Magic just kicked the tar out of a team that we all thought was very, very good. A team that won 66 games.

What it all comes down to is that I have no clue. And that’s the best thing I could have asked for from this year’s Finals.

How about you? Any stronger feelings one way or the other? Am I just a pansy?

Over and Out,
Jared

jordan-larry-obrien

Co-Chairman of the Catalina Wine Mixer,

I couldn’t agree more that this may be the most evenly matched NBA Finals that I’ve ever seen, other than the Orlando/Houston series in ‘95, which was probably the most competitive and even sweep in NBA history. That series came down to two extremely close first games that if Orlando wins one of those, it probably goes seven. The confusion sets in because of the enigmatic Lakers. If they hadn’t been blown out in Game Six of the Finals last year, I’d be crowning them as the definite champions this year and chalking last year up to Boston just being better. But I sense a weakness in these guys mentally that keeps me from believing in them.

Does that mean that I believe in Orlando more? Not necessarily. It just means that Kobe Bryant has been blown out in elimination games to an embarrassing degree twice in the past few post-seasons. And that’s alarming to me. I usually agree that switching what you do is a terrible strategy to implement in a playoff setting, especially in the Finals. You should be doing what got you to this point and trying to do it better than you did it before. But there’s also the ideal of let the star do what he wants on the other team and shut down his help. Look at what Orlando did in defending LeBron last series. They allowed him to run amuck while taking every form of help away from him. So he ended up with insane numbers and a Gone Fishin’ photo on TNT’s post-game show. Now, while the numbers are cute and sexy, they mean nothing to me because those numbers didn’t lead to four wins. Is that fair? Not at all. Is it reality? Absolutely.

So why wouldn’t Phil Jackson go small to create impossible mismatches in the triangle offense and on the other end defend the three with your best perimeter guys? Yes, he’s adjusting what the Lakers do well but at the same time, he’s taking away Dwight’s help. Say he goes for 42/28 tonight but Lewis, Turk, and the rest of the gang shoots around 30% from three and can’t get a single clean look? To me, that leads to a Lakers double digit win while leaving us impressed by Dwight’s physical maturity and disappointed by the supporting cast around him. And that’s how adjusting to the other team works in this situation.

As far as my thoughts on the outcome of this series?

I guess the best way for me to decide who we coronate this month is to relate the two stars of the series to protagonist and antagonist in Finding Forrester, my favorite movie. Dwight Howard is easily Jamal Wallace in this series. He’s young. He’s physically impressive for his age and advanced past the other kids. He’s charming when he needs to be. He’s smarter than he lets on. He’s got a mentor who’s been there before even though that mentor has both impressed his fans and left them wanting much more. Dwight has spouted off against authority as well in order to prove that he demands more from those in charge of his development. Just like there was a question in Jamal’s writing of where it was taking him, there are similar questions in Dwight’s game of where his talent is taking him. Perennial All-Star is a lock. But is true and utter all-time greatness going to be the final destination for him?

That leaves Kobe as the antagonist in this story. I’ve never seen a player in any sports history that embodied F. Murray Abraham’s character in Finding Forrester like Kobe Bryant does. The similarities are almost too uncanny. Both are jealous of those in their respective fields who have been more successful. But it isn’t a malicious jealousy. It’s just hopeful jealousy that they would love to be held in that regard someday. F. Murray wanted to write the next great American novel and was frustrated by his inability to get people to accept his work. And Kobe Bryant is definitely that way when it comes to Michael Jordan’s mystique. Both are arrogant and confident. Both like to show how great they are at what they do. But both leave those around expecting and ultimately wanting more.

So it comes down to the battle between the two. Can Dwight Howard go up against Kobe like Jamal challenged his teacher? Personally, I feel like the hero and person that the audience wants to win often does in these types of stories. Nobody likes an unhappy ending when it’s a young person struggling to get his foot into the door of potential greatness. Nobody wants F. Murray Abraham to get the best of Jamal. And Jamal is too cunning to lose the battle.

It goes against all logic and how I feel about the current state of the NBA. But I’ll take Dwight’s strength over Kobe’s talent. Give me the Magic. I’m not confident in that pick but it makes sense in my warped consciousness.

Enjoy the games and I’ll see you in New York next week. [Ed Note: Zach, and many other prominent sports bloggers, will is headed to my city on June 13 for the Hugging Harold Reynolds hosted Blogs with Balls conference, where dozens of folks from blogs like Deadspin, FreeDarko, and FanHouse as well as real, professional journalists that work for actual newspapers will be converging to discuss the world of internet sportswriting. Tickets are still available I think. Check the website for more info. I will also be there, but for some reason the powers that be have opted to not promote that fact.]

Sincerely,
Zach

step-brothers-derrick

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Gladwell, Goliath, Simmons & David

by Jared Wade on May 13, 2009 at 6:16 pm

Since it has yet again become obvious that I’m a poor blog updater this week, here’s plenty of words from other people to keep you satisfied until I drop some new knowledge on you tomorrow.

First up is Malcolm Gladwell’s recent New Yorker article talking about How David Beats Goliath. Honestly, I wasn’t particularly blown away with this one, but it’s Gladwell and even his dumps are probably well written, so it’s still better than 95% of the other things you will read this week (Both Teams Played Hard notwithstanding). Plus, the main underdog technique he talks about is the full-court press, which is much more fun to read about than play. And the other main focus is Lawrence of Arabia, which is one of best flicks you could ever see and one likely still buried in your Netflix queue behind Tokyo Drift, much to your guilty film-watching conscience’s dismay.

If that’s not enough Gladwell for you, he and Simmons reclaimed the back-and-forth email bit that me and Zach Harper of Talk Hoops have been recently implementing to entertain dozens and make literally fives of dollars. (You can read me and Zach’s March exchanges here and our recent First Round Playoff exchanges here.) Sports Guy and Writer Guy discuss the NBA implications of the full-court press and Simmons recounts his good, first-hand memory of Rick Pitino’s attempts to bring the Kentucky press to the Celtics in the late nineties. I grew up in Maine and also have fond memories of watching all those Celtic games to the point that, in 1997, Bruce Bowen bestilled my heart to nearly the same level that Trevor Ariza has done so in 2008-09. I fear this means Ariza will start kicking, tripping and gouging people in a few years. Young Antoine was also a marvel. His ball-handling and mid-range game at that size was just a treasure to watch. And, yes, it is very hard to convince anyone that that statement is accurate and meant without sarcasm just one short decade later. The Walter McCarty flashbacks from Simmons are another good takeaway. New England truly loved Walthah. And, if I remember correctly, Tommy Heinsohn may have also had some affinity for the guy as well. Then again, I have alzheimer’s — but at least I don’t have alzheimer’s.

Lastly, if you haven’t read Gladwell’s latest book Outliers yet, do yourself a favor and go buy it now. It is easily his best work thus far — which is saying something — and it was definitely the best book I read last year. (Keep in mind, however, this is coming from a dude who basically only read like seven books on Hugo Chavez, twelve covering Latin America generally, like three others about Wall Street and a couple on hoops last year, so I’m clearly not the barometer of 2008 literature.) If you’re really bored, you can go read my review of Outliers here.

The Jason Kidd of writering. (c) Brian Spaeth (The word, not the photo. I just lifted that sans even attribution from Google Image Search.)

The Jason Kidd of writering. (c) Brian Spaeth (The word, not the photo. I just lifted the image sans attribution from Google Image Search.)

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Talking Hoops with Talk Hoops: Vol. II

by Jared Wade on May 1, 2009 at 3:04 pm

As you may remember, me and Both Teamsters Union pal Zach Harper of TalkHoops.net exchanged a series of world-altering emails about the happenings around the Association a few weeks back.

And since it was so wildly successful, we decided to do it again now that the Playoffs are underway. We began this endeavor yesterday morning and then, wouldn’t you know it,  one of the best Playoff games of all time went ahead and happened mid-way through. So here’s what transpired, with the first half taking place pre-Bulls/Celtics Game 6 and the second half taking place post-Bulls/Celtics Game 6.

We start with me e-mailing Zach. (If like most people you don’t like this site, feel free to go read this very same thing over at Zach’s house. I hear he has a pool shaped like a guitar and a Sno-Cone machine.)

Enjoy.

yao-and-artest

Zach,

If you’re anything like me this is far and away the best time of the year. Without fail, the buzz around March Madness awakens me from winter hibernation. Then I hit the snooze once or twice and listlessly trudge around for a few more weeks until Springtime in New York arrives, bringing a borderline citywide euphoria of ambition, an army of mini-skirts and the real reason we’re here today, the NBA Playoffs.

So whaddya think? Where will amazing happen—other than New Orleans, I mean?

For me, things have been a little anti-climactic thus far, honestly. I’m not tryna piss on the parade because I do truly enjoy watching all these games no matter how unsurprising the outcome, but aside from Bulls/Celtics—obviously—a lot of these games have been relatively lackluster. Because of a conflict, I actually missed the best game in the Orlando/Philly series so that plays a part in all this, but for whatever reason those two teams just don’t really do it for me. I like seeing Andre Miller do his thing on the East Coast where he can get a little more press and Dwight Howard gives me infinite joy, but despite those factors—not to mention my Symone Fisher-level man-crush on Thaddeus Young—I just sort of end up zoning out a lot when these two teams are running around inside my TV set.

The only other really good series, Houston/Portland, has a lot more going for it, but I feel on the outside-looking-in with this whole Blazer thing. I’ve tried to get caught up in the total excitement that the rest of the world seems to have for these kiddies, but the exuberance just isn’t quite there for me. I mean, I like all the players individually—Brandon Roy is a beast among men, your boy Oden has flashes of grandeur, LaMarcus is a throwback, Rudy es fantastico, Outlaw is my boy, Bayless is fun. I love their offensive efficiency. And I know intellectually that this could be the first glimpse of a basketball renaissance in Portland that will make the world forget Zach Randolph and Damon Stoudamire ever existed. But the Rockets are actually more compelling to me. I like seeing Yao finally healthy in the Playoffs. I have affection for all things Artest. Aaron Brooks and Kyle Lowry are refreshing. Landry just got shot a few weeks ago. Scola has that great haircut. Von Wafer is slick talk, pain and torture. All in all: Good times. Okay, I guess this series has a ton going for it now that I put more thought into it even if does lack “it.”

Mostly, then, I think my somewhat mild enthusiasm for those two series isn’t the problem. Mainly, it’s the phenomenal disappointment surrounding Heat/Hawks and the complete non-competitiveness of Nuggets/Hornets. Both New Orleans and Miami were billed as two one-man wrecking crews vs. two better teams — all four of which are among the handful of teams I’ve paid the most attention to all season. But neither matchup has really given us much to feel for aside from maybe a little pity for New Orleans.

In a way, that sort of etches in stone the fact that, above all else, you now definitely need a well-rounded, complete team to win in modern NBA again—and that’s a good thing. But at the same time, there’s also this melancholy malaise surrounding that same reality as we watch a “changing of the guard” where the heydays of San Antonio and Detroit become ever-more-distant memories. (The dude from Straight Bangin’ had a good piece on this over at FreeDarko the other day.)

Another thing might be that we don’t have any offenses that can really compare with the high-octane stuff we’ve seen in recent years out of the D’Antoni Suns, Baron Davis Dubs or Ray Allen Sonics. Those teams were always seen as a little gimmicky and “not built for April/May” but they were a lot more entertaining first-round fodder for the real contenders than teams like Detroit, Utah and New Orleans.

Am I alone here?

Sleepless Outside the Staples Center,
Jared Harper

staples-center

Jared,
Aaaaaaaaaah, spring is in the air, Rondo’s emerging stardom is on the court, and the playoffs are in my LCD 12 hours per night. This IS the best time of year for any basketball fan because we get to argue about award winners while we pontificate on who has the upper hand in a series that a prolific percentage of people think has already been decided by the media and David Stern. Living in Sacramento, I can’t relate to any citywide euphoria of ambition because it’s Sacramento. In fact, I can’t even really relate to the army of mini-skirts unveiling their forces because in California, mini-skirts are like Chris Anderson—Birdman, baby, they fly in any weather. We’re lucky enough on the West Coast to have them year round no matter what the series. Maybe it’s just easy women or maybe it’s just because of easy women in warm enough weather to fight through frozen kneecaps and veins showing through the leggings because of temps in the 40s. But regardless, I’m happy for you and your fellow easterners that you get to experience the minis flying at you like Mark Wahlberg and company in The Italian Job.

As for the playoffs, I’m digging what’s happened so far this round. Chris Paul’s early and utterly noncompetitive departure was extremely saddening for me but Rajon Rondo’s emergence as a potential Top 5 point in the league is as captivating to me as possible. I’ve missed Dwyane Wade doing Dwyane Wade things to keep his terrible team in the mix against Atlanta. It seems like the two teams are taking turns in not showing up for games and I can’t recall caring less about a series that was 3-2. But Ben Gordon, someone who I normally can’t stand because of his one-dimensional nature, has been good enough as an Antonio Banderas vs. Sly Stallone level assassin to make me forget that Dwyane Wade plays video games with Charles Barkley while chirping Big Dwight. But other than those two superstars not being able to showcase their greatness, I think the playoffs for the most part have been extremely enjoyable. The Cavs and Lakers did what they’re supposed to do. The Mavericks bullied a team without one of their stars who also happens to be a Top 15 player in the league when healthy.

I’d say the remaining series that has been most disappointing is the Orlando-Philly debacle. Has it even been THAT fun to watch? Here are two teams that should be mired in an offensive-juggernaut-laden, seven seconds or dunk type of series and instead they’re trying to decide who can win an uglier game. Now that we have Dwight Howard suspended for a game in a league-wide make-up call for the refs that didn’t do their jobs so perhaps the Sixers can force a Game 6 and we can all benefit from this (Editor’s Note: They didn’t.)

Now in regards to the Houston-Portland series, I can understand why it’s not for everyone to get into this Portland team. The Portland hype is about 90% off of the potential of this team three years from now rather than the product out on the court. I’m completely entrenched with this team because of my undying love fest of Greg Oden. As he still figures out how to walk in the NBA (metaphorically of course, we don’t need your injury jokes or unfounded Sam Bowie knocks), I feel like a proud father praising his little accomplishments from the tops of the internet mountains:

“Great dunk, Gregory! You really got up on that one!”

“Don’t bring that stuff in our house, Von Wafer! Even if the backboard clipped that reverse dunk attempt, Oden was there to disregard it anyway!”

“Greg, you’re fronting Yao like an eight-year veteran! Keep it up!”

But I can definitely see why you’d be more intrigued with the Rockets. Outside of Brandon Roy’s swagger and Rudy Fernandez’s el swaggero, the Blazers leave a little to be desired because of their slow style. You give Mike D’Antoni that team and they’d not only win 60+ games but they’d be competing with American Idol every night for ratings. The Rockets on the other hand have a tortured past that they can overcome without McGrady on the court. Ron Artest is crazier than a person deciding to have a crush on Derek Fisher (great topical reference by the way with the Symone Fisher) when Sun Yue is in the conversation. Shane Battier is maybe the most fascinating person in the league. Luis Scola looks like a girl I went to grade school with but plays like what Joe Wolf was supposed to be. And Aaron Brooks has emerged as one of the most dangerous scoring guards in the league. He’s basically what Sebastian Telfair has failed to become. I dig this Rockets team right now and if they ever figure out that feeding the ball to their best player is a good thing, they might make more noise.

Personally, I think we should have all expected a lesser playoff run by the NBA this time around than what we saw last year. We were spoiled with an unbelievable season in 2008 and an even better playoff season. This year, it hasn’t lived up to the hype of last year so maybe that’s why it feels so anti-climactic. It’s rare we get those Warriors-Mavs series in the first round. So I’ll throw it back to you with this. We discussed the Nuggets team the last time we exchanged emails like this. But what about this suddenly impressive looking Mavericks team? What’s it going to take from the Mavs, Rockets/Blazers, or Celtics in the next two rounds to get the playoffs to what we want them to be? Are we just twiddling our thumbs and writing reactions to stuff that won’t matter in two months when we’re finishing up the imminent Cavs-Lakers Finals?
What’s a writer to do?

Sincerely,
Greg Oden’s Illegitimate Father

(Photo by Sam Forencich/NBAE via Getty Images)

(Photo by Sam Forencich/NBAE via Getty Images)

Z-Bo,

Did you just call Sun Yue hot?

I mean not to downplay how enjoyable portions of these Playoffs have been. I’ve actually enjoyed them immensely. I guess what I was trying to say is that the styles of play across the League have gotten more similar and that minus the intrigue that I personally have about the individual players/story lines, the offensive game play seems fairly vanilla no matter if you’re watching the Sixers, the Hawks, the Blazers, the Rockets, the Spurs or the Pistons. The styles of those teams don’t differ all that much and it’s only the individual quirks—a Yao here, a Tony Parker drive there, a whatever it is Josh Smith does wherever he does it—bringing the flavor. For me, a pretty giant NBA dork, that’s enough to drum up a lot of interest. But I would imagine a casual onlooker less interested in things like the career arc of Thaddeus Young or the possible Boozer vs. Millsap conundrum in Utah getting a little glassy eyed.

But let’s not dwell on that.

You brought up my four favorite things about this year’s Playoffs: 1) the Celtics vs. Bulls Overtime-apalooza, 2) Rajon Rondo, 3) the Mavs stealth-like resurgence, and 4) America’s Team, aka, the Denver Nuggets.

Could we possibly ask for anything more out of the Celtics and Bulls? Okay, neither team is that dynamic if you really break it down: Offensively, both completely revolve around PG penetration, hitting jumpers and letting guys go one-on-one. Option A is Rondo/Rose. Option B is a swing pass or drive-and-kick to an open jumpshooter. Option C is “Ummm…Someone do something,” which is when hopefully one of Pierce/Ray or Ben Gordon/Salmons starts freelancing outside the offense. Then comes Option D, which is when Tyrus Thomas or Big Baby does something that should have a laugh track. I’m not one to throw aspersions at a guy, but it’s possible this is all somehow related to Vinny of the Black and Doc Rivers bringing checkers to a chess fight.

But how ‘bout these endings? Tremendous.

Good lord, Ben Gordon. There have been like six times in this series where I’ve gone back and forth between hating the way he plays and loving the way he plays twice during the same possession. He’s an enigma wrapped in a riddle wrapped in a pinata. Meanwhile, Ray Ray’s been bringing the goods ever since his putrid Game 1. The Truth has been struggling mightily but still managing to stick dagger after dagger in winning time. Your boy Kendrick Perkins has won me over. Tyrus Thomas is so much entertainment. (The best moment of the Playoffs thus far may have been when Tyrus grabbed a board after a Celtic miss while the Bulls were ahead with less than 24 seconds left and, rather than handing it off to Rose in the back-court so that Derrick could go hit the free throws after the Cs fouled, he just took off down the floor like he was planning to dribble out the final 17 seconds of the game.) I’ve even loved watching Joakim Noah, who someone on Twitter recently dubbed “Spanish from Old School.” As someone who has deconstructed that movie down to the point that “Hey, Mike” is now my favorite line, I can’t believe that comparison had never occurred to me. The dude’s follow-up was even better: “WE’VE GOTTA KEEP OUR COMPOSURE.”

Then there’s Rondo, who has been majestic. That stat line is nuts. The way he’s run the team minus KG has been even better. I couldn’t like the kid more. Maybe that’s why everything else seems a little dull by comparison: His ongoing duel with Derrick Rose has been the most intriguing one-on-one match-up I’ve seen in some time.

I certainly have plenty to say about the Mavs and Nuggs (and yes, Cavs/Lakers is inevitable), but this is getting a little long and there’s probably more to say about Rajon.

Thoughts?

Staying Composed,
Me

rajon-rondo-and-pierce

(Reuters/Brian Snyder)

Wade,

I’m not saying that Sun Yue is hot but he’s a professional athlete and young. That virility has to count for something, right?

Offenses died more than a decade ago when Michael Jordan nudged Bryon Russell and finished off his third career with a jumper from 19-feet. Sure, you have your Mike D’Antoni’s and your … well … you have Mike D’Antoni but other than his systematic chaos, there isn’t much for offensive execution anymore. Look at the ends of these great Celtics-Bulls games. It’s all isolation games except for one time when Doc Rivers scribbled out a play to get Ray Allen a three-point shot. Other than that, it’s give the guy the ball at the top, clear out and pray for rain.

On a side note and related to what you said, what DOES Josh Smith do on a basketball court? I get that he can dunk a basketball and toss a shot or two whenever someone forgets where he is, but I feel like the two Bobs asking him what it is exactly that he does here while trying to decide between promoting him with stock options or fixing the glitch in the payroll system. I haven’t figured out why he has the contract he has and whether he’s overpaid or underpaid. I’m leaning towards overpaid but I can’t make that assertion until I figure out how he contributes to wins.

You may not be one to throw aspersions around but I certainly will be happy to lob the salvos. Vinny of the Black and PhD Rivers have made me wonder aloud if they have learning disabilities while on the sidelines. That’s not necessarily a disparaging comment either. Apparently, growing up Brandon Roy had a learning disability and that seemed to work out all right for every body. But Vin and Glenn have taken away a lot of the luster from the series but somehow it’s worked out for all of us to enjoy. Instead of complex sets and schemes that try to take away what a team does well, we’ve been given a veritable slugfest of Ben Gordon shots versus Paul Pierce daggers.

I think the most intriguing side of this series outside of Rondo completely outplaying Rose and the Pierce/Gordon duel has to be the way the role players have contributed/failed. Does anybody remember that Eddie House is still on the team? Where has he been? Remember when Tony Allen was a role player on this team? Me neither. When did Stephon Marbury become gun shy? We certainly know his cousin, Bassy, isn’t. When did Glen Davis become David West? Did he steal his powers via Monstar technique? You know that I’m stoked by the emergence of my boy Kendrick Perkins. Who would have thought he’d become a Top 7 center during these playoffs? And for Chicago, is Tyrus Thomas bipolar? One play he’s majestic; the next, he’s an abomination. Kirk Hinrich is teetering on the fence between the good yard and the let’s get his contract off our books yard. And Joakim Noah is maybe the most lethal force around the rim since Bill Wennington. By the way, with Joakim, if he cut his hair, would he look a lot faster to everyone? Give him a short-cropped fade and he’s probably a #2 pick in the draft. And I love the Spanish call with him. Personally, with his dad being black and his mom being Swedish, I’ve dubbed him Toblerone. But I’m good either way.

I don’t really want to get into Rondo for the simple fact that I can’t stop when I start gushing over him. He’s averaging a triple-double with 50% shooting and over three steals per game. If LeBron James was doing this, we’d erase Michael Jordan from the record books. Rajon Rondo is quickly becoming the second best point guard in basketball and that’s not hyperbole by any means.

But I really want to dig into these Mavericks. How good have they been since Cuban threatened to throw them out of the house? How did Jason Kidd turn the ball over just three times last series? JJ Barea has become a better version of Michael Adams. Erick Dampier actually backed up something he said. Dirk is a blitzkrieg bop and Josh Howard has been the best Wake Forest alum this post-season. The Mavs and the Nuggets both dismantled their first round opponents and if Kenyon Martin can’t bottle up Dirk, I see them possibly peaking at the right time to challenge the Lakers (not beat, just challenge). When did Rick Carlisle become a good coach again? Is their resurgence causing Avery Johnson to actually utter a swear word? When does this madness stop?

Signed,
The Man Outside Sun Yue’s Condo

toblerone

[EDITOR'S NOTE: After Zach's last email and prior to this response, one of the best Playoff games of one of the best Playoff series of all time took place.]

Zeke,

HOLY SHIT.

After just watching Bulls/Cs Game 6 (it ended about 20 minutes ago), I’m not really sure I can construct a coherent thought. Fortunately, I probably wasn’t going to do that anyway so at least I now have a good excuse.

Pretty good ballgame, eh? I think I blacked out for a while there. I can’t even begin to comment on the particulars—Joakim’s steal, Rose’s block, Ray’s corner fadeaway, Hinrich’s missed layup/Rondo’s marginal goaltend, Brad Miller’s finger roll, John Salmons relentless penetration—but one thing that seems particularly miraculous about that endurance challenge that felt more like the Iditarod than a first-round Playoff game is that I was watching the post-game highlights afterwards and was like “Oh, yeah, I forgot that last year’s Finals MVP had to leave the game at one point to go get some stitches.” To me, the thing that usually allows a good game to qualify as a great game is entirely intangible and essentially is the same as the threshold for obscenity (I can’t define it…but I know it when I see it), but I think it’s pretty safe to say that when a Hall of Famer losses about a pint of blood during the game and you don’t even remember that happening, you’ve just watched a great game.

That’s all I’ve got on Game 6 right now. Speechless otherwise.

As for the Mavs, I couldn’t be happier about their resurgence. They look very good. I’ve been jock-riding Josh Howard since like 2005 when I was trying to convince people he was the fourth best player from that draft class (meaning, better than Chris Bosh…and, yes, I was wrong), so it’s good to see him get his swag back. He was in a funk and/or injured much of this year, but he’s now shot over 50% from the floor in every game of the Playoffs aside from his subpar performance in the one game they lost to the Spurs. (He still shot 3/8 that night…just didn’t have much effect on the game.) Great call on the “best Wake Forrest” player designation and, similarly, I think it’s safe to say that Jason Kidd has been better than his Cal counterparts Leon Powe and Sean Marks. Old Man River can certainly still run an offense and while he might not exactly be as timeless as, say John Stockton or Illmatic, I think he’s shown that he has at least two more years of relevancy left in him. Most importantly, Dirk is about to get his rightful spotlight back. His stellar play was so overlooked this season that it was borderline criminal, even though he is almost certainly a 2009 All-NBA First-Teamer, right? Who beats him for the other forward spot? Pau? Doubtful.

And now him, Howard and Brandon Bass are gonna be matched up against Melo, K-Mart, Birdman and Dahntay Jones? Plus Kidd vs. Billups? And maybe best of all: JR Smith vs. Jason Terry? Even Nene vs. Damp sounds great. I really couldn’t be more excited for this series.

I’ve been watching a ton of Nugget ball this year and they’re playing better and more consistently right now than I’ve seen all season. I’m not sure whether the complete undressing they just gave Chris Paul and company is going to be a good thing or a bad thing for this team honestly, but it seems that Carmelo and Chauncey have everyone on more of an even keel than most people think. The rest of the guys on this team might be seen as knuckleheads at times, but they’ve basically taken on the persona of front line soldiers on a mission, with JR playing the Barry Pepper sniper in the bell-tower role—presuming, ya know, this version of Barry Pepper may arbitrarily decide to drop Tom Hanks and Matt Damon with consecutive headshots. So, yeah, nothing like that at all really.

Fly in Most Weather,
Birdman, Jr.

(via Ball Don't Lie)

(via Ball Don't Lie)

J-Bone,

THAT. WAS. AMAZING.

In regards to Game 6 of the Celtics-Bulls, I don’t even really know what just happened. I feel like I was just on the business end of a Kama Sutra session. I’m confused, elated, and just damn impressed by what I experienced. I have to agree that I too forgot Paul Pierce was bleeding like he just escaped from one of Jigsaw’s “games” and I honestly didn’t really remember Hinrich and Rondo getting into it until I watched the highlights again. There are people that don’t like basketball. There are people that don’t get the allure of basketball. I defy those people to watch that basketball game and not fall in love with the attraction of this sport. The ones that still wouldn’t get it are clearly not real people or perhaps they’re soulless like they just endured a fatality at the hands of some pixilated character wearing a 2-D jumpsuit.

When I read your words and sentences about the Mavericks and Nuggets just now, it took a few minutes to remember that this is just the first round of the playoffs and that there are other series. I guess by your assessment, it’s time to take the Mavs seriously again and I can’t really disagree or argue with that. This is a team clicking on 100% of the cylinders that it takes to be a dangerous NBA playoff team. They have two enigmatic big men in Erick Dampier and Nene who have emerged, disappointed, and been accused of not having the proper amount of testicles. They have two over the hill point guards that can’t keep up with the younger points in the league even though they’ve just taken out two younger point guards that they basically outplayed. They have two gunners from deep in Jason Terry and JR Smith who jack so many deep shots that you start to see the money ball at some point in the game. It’s a fun optical illusion.

And then there’s the match-up of Carmelo Anthony against Josh Howard. To me, it’s like watching two kids playing arcade Streetfighter without ever blocking an attack. Neither of these guys play particularly good defense and both of these guys can fill up the cup like two girls on the internet (not that I’d ever watch that). And both of these guys have gone through their trials and tribulations over the past year that make you want to root for them whether you like them or not. Carmelo was once the next Bird to LeBron’s Magic Johnson. Then he was the most overrated thug who couldn’t get out of the first round or stand going toe to toe with Jared Jeffries. And you have Josh Howard who apparently loves weed and hates the National Anthem, two things that aren’t things you should brag about when living in the heart of Texas. But now after five first round playoff games, both guys appear to be past all of that and ready to get past the other for a shot at the Lakers.

Oh and by the way, the 2007 MVP and definite lock for All NBA 1st Team this year is going to be in this series too. Both of these teams are playing so well that they probably think they can take the Lakers down. But will they have a chance?

Who’s to say the Rockets won’t be able to out-duel the Lake show? Who’s to say Los Angeles can stop Aaron Brooks from scoring, Ron Artest from being crazy enough to win this series or Yao Ming from dominating Andrew Bynum who is one more knee injury from being renamed Jimmy Dolan and strapping on a permanent knee brace as he becomes a basketball scout shipped to the heart of Africa? I guess my questions has two parts:
1) Are we sure that the Lakers are going to be in the NBA Finals and 2) could the Western Conference have had two better match-ups for the second round?

V/T,
Z

dirk

Harpo,

This may just be the five hours of sleep that felt more like five minutes talking, but as good as that Bulls/Celtics game was, I’m not sure the Yao/Artest press conference wasn’t the highlight of the night. There was no chance I was falling asleep for at least four hours after the Bulls game so I actually caught it twice (plus the second half of HBO’s stellar Thrilla in Manilla doc), and, man, I mean that thing is good. (Unfortunately I can’t find video of the whole thing right now, but here’s a small bite of what was actually more like a 24-ounce porterhouse. )

Watching those two in action really makes me wanna see Houston knock off the Lakers and make a run. Deep down, it bothers me that Ronnie gets dismissed as a psychotic leper when he’s by most accounts a genuinely nice and gregarious guy — albeit with plenty of major character flaws — and watching the back-and-forth Abbott and Costelllo routine those two had going last night really helps you realize there’s a lot more going on with the Rockets than “the Chinese dude” and the “crazy dude.” Imagine how amazing that locker room must be with Yao, Artest and Dikembe? It’s like an even more dramatic version of the Pedro/Johnny Damon/Manny triumvirate of personality that fueled the 2004 Red Sox, and if there’s one thing I like more than anything else it’s something unique. We’ve never seen anything remotely like a Yao/Ron Artest-led team in this League and I want to see that get as much exposure as possible. You ever see The Year of Yao? The guy is on that Tim Duncan dry wit level. Toss in the uncaged aura of Ron Artest that has him ending post-game interviews with things like “Queensbridge in the Building” and I’ll be a willing participant in any expedition these two dudes wanna take me on.

Still, looking past all that emotional nonsense, I don’t see anyone in the West beating Los Angeles — and I think I can break it down by channeling the soul of Trevor Ariza.

I really can’t fully explain my affinity for Ariza. I loved the guy as a Knick (which, as a Pacer fan, is a phrase that exits my mouth about as often as “No thanks, I’m full” exits Eddy Curry’s”) and couldn’t believe they just tossed a 20-year-old athletic dynamo with obvious defensive promise into a trade along with Penny—particularly since New York was basically just trading for a shorter, just-as-broken-down Penny in Stevie Franchise. Worse still was when Orlando subsequently gave him away to LA. Really, Magic? You would rather have Mo Evans and Brian Cook, aka the poor man’s Tony Battie, then go to war with a Dwight/Rashard/Ariza front-court? Real Cracker Jack talent evaluation, Minnie Mouse.

To me, it’s the guy that I’ve affectionately begun calling Switchblade that opitomizes why the Lakers are on a direct flight to the Finals. Kobe and Pau require no discussion really, and when Lamar has it going like he did against the Jazz, he’s one of the most versatile cats to ever touch a ball. But what Trevor represents is the newfound consistency L.A. has found in 2009. He plays the exact same way every night. And whenever he’s on the court, you may as well break out your Team Building Exercise ‘99 t-shirt cause it’s business…it’s business time. Rarely will you see Ariza goof around. Sure, he’ll finish off a time-out-inducing 3-on-1 break with a lightning quick reverse dunk on the other side of the rim and then throw out a few high-elevation chest bumps, but it ain’t exuberant revelry. He isn’t smiling. He isn’t yelling. He isn’t even particularly impressed. He’s just gonna go sit on the bench, listen to Phil and Kobe, and then walk back out on the court and lock someone down. He brings a detached, executioner mentality to the team that says: “We got this if we just go get it done.”

And to me, that’s a microcosm of what this team is all about.

Last year, they were up-and-down. Last year, they were caught up in their own personalities. Last year, Pau played more like a hesitant ringer who just met the guys he was playing with a few hours before the game. Last year, this team carried itself with a Lamar Odom demeanor. This year, they’re walking around like Switchblade.

Now I’m not saying this makes them good enough to interrupt LeBron’s upcoming nuptuals with destiny, but when “maybe Lamar won’t drop 20″ is your biggest flaw and you’re playing against teams with the question marks that all of Houston, Denver and Dallas have, there isn’t really much room for a debate about which team will emerge.

As for your other question, no, we couldn’t possibly have better match-ups for the second round. It’s like a second round West Coast Voltron where LA is the head. And the unforeseen way the teams came together may be the best part of it all. While the whole world was busy fellating Portland’s young guns, Chris Paul and Deron Williams even though they’re teams were middling and fairly dull, the Nuggs, Cuban’s boys and H-Town just showed up and handled their business like Marky Mark in The Departed: “I’m the guy who does his job; you must be the other guy.”

The ironic part — or tragic part, depending on your favorite conference — about this whole thing is that this was supposed to be the year where the Eastern Conference re-emerged. All year it was a four-team race for the Championship between L.A., Boston, Cleveland and Orlando—plus you had Dwyane Wade generating all that MVP buzz as he hosted his own personal basketball clinic in Miami. The West still had its superior one-through-nine team depth, sure, but three of the Association’s four elite squads were supposedly in the East.

But if you re-evaluate the landscape today, without KG and after watching the Magic under a spotlight, would you take any team in the East aside from Cleveland to beat any of the West’s Final Four? I love me some Baby Bulls Part Deux and Orlando certainly has a little sumptin-sumptin going on, but I’m not sure I’d put money down on either one of those squads. And despite all the heroics going on in Boston, the Celtics are being propped up with Bazooka Joe and duct tape at this point.

And in a League of few surprises, I for one couldn’t be more excited to watch Houston, Denver and Dallas aim their slingshots at Kobe and Pau.

Ten/4,
Wade

the_departed

My main man Jared Wade,

I don’t quite know how to describe the comedy combination of Yao Ming and Ron Artest. It’s organic and natural while being completely confounding. But it works. It seems like they’ve been studying tapes of the Adam Carolla-Jimmy Kimmel tandem and copying that chemistry. Maybe Chuck Hayes has helped out by jumping on trampolines at the end of practice while Deke is throwing back 10 ounces of beer like it’s a Grey Goose shot. Whatever the system is, that locker room is clicking. And I think a lot of it has to do with the craziness of Ron Artest. He believes he’s the best player in the league. He thought he could win a title with the Kings last year. He still calls a local 9pm-midnight radio show in Sacramento all the time and even texts the host at three in the morning on random nights to see the next time he can be on. He’s on a different wavelength than anybody and I think it’s infected the team (insert swine flu, topical joke here). His confidence is something that has permeated his team and with that newfound ego boost, the team feels like a title team to them even if it isn’t quite there.

And when Ron Artest said that he’d been in the stands before, it showed that even though he may be crazy, he’s still one of the most grounded and down to earth guys who thinks outlandish things. At times, he’s a walking paradox but it works.

As for Yao, The Year of Yao is something that everyone should see to get into the mentality of this guy. He’s had the weight of a billion plus countrymen on his shoulders since he was 17 years old. And it’s not like it’s the most forgiving culture when it comes to failure. When he doesn’t lead the Chinese National Team to the gold medal in each Olympics, he’s not doing what they engineered in a lab for him to do. I’m not fully convinced that he’s a real human because he looks like he was grown from an over-sized Petri dish. But when you hear him speak, there’s no robotic about him. He’s humble, hilarious, and smarter than most people. He’s slyly funny in a way that it took someone like Norm MacDonald years to craft. The guy is existential beyond belief and unfortunately people just see him as an under performing tall guy. Unfortunately for him, he’ll once again be a disappointment because I agree that no one is taking down the Lakers.

It’s interesting that you bring up The Departed because I think that movie shows the contrasts between the Lakers and the rest of the West. The Mavericks (Mark Cuban), Nuggets (George Karl), and Rockets (Ron Artest) are represented of Jack Nicholson’s character in the movie. They’re bold, ostentatious, and easy to fly off the handle. They run things for now but you can see the end coming to their current reign. They haven’t had to ask for money since the third grade because everyone has feared them to some degree. Karl has been around the block many times with Payton and the Reign Man and now has his version of Frenchy once again with Chauncey Billups. Mark Cuban is living the lifestyle of a famous mobster who gets in trouble on occasion but can’t be brought down by David Stern and the other owners (aka Martin Sheen and the rest of the State Department). And Ron Artest is crazy enough to chop off someone’s hand and mail it to the guy’s wife with the ring still on it. You know, just in case she wants something to remember him by.

But in the Western Conference landscape, the Lakers are led by the aura of Leo DiCaprio’s character Billy Costigan. Sure, Kobe is the main man on the team, Pau is the key addition who is playing better than any power forward in basketball, and Lamar Odom is bridging the gap like Nas from his versatile forward doings until Andrew Bynum is ready to be the third guy. But Ariza is Billy Costigan. He’s cold-blooded when he needs to be. He adapts to every situation. He does what the team needs and doesn’t question the big picture when he could be getting his stats somewhere else. In The Departed, there’s a line that Leo’s Billy Costigan says, “”You sit there with a mass murderer. A mass murderer. Your heart rate is jacked. And your hand, steady. That’s the one thing I figured out about myself in prison. My hand does not shake. Ever.”

And if that doesn’t describe the current state of Trevor Ariza and the calmness he’s brought to the Lakers attack then I don’t know what does. His hand does not shake. He spent his time in New York and Orlando and at times I’m sure it felt like prison compared to the situation he’s in now. What he’s brought is that consistency you’re praising and a defined role to the rest of the team. Everyone falls in line, accordingly. And as good as the second round match-ups are and as good of a Western Conference Finals as we might have, I concur that the Lakers probably aren’t being taken down. Whether they survive the rest of this movie is a whole other story that will be written by the duel we see in a couple of months between LeBron and Kobe.

Until then,
Zach

kobe-and-lebron

{ 2 comments }

Talking Hoops with Talk Hoops

by Jared Wade on March 25, 2009 at 12:01 pm

Aside from the open invitation to the Playboy Mansion and instant qualification for an AMEX black card, one of the best parts of being a member of the NBA blogosphere is chatting about the Association with other, knowledgable hoops heads. That’s always been the case, but it’s been even easier his season since the entire community has jumped on the Twitterwagon.

Among the pre-Shaq implementers were me (@BothTeamsPlayed) and Zach Harper (@talkhoops) of the highly entertaining and thorough site Talk Hoops. After months of exchanging 140-character arguments about Durant vs. Oden (me vs. him, repectively) and discussions about Blue Chips, we figured it was time to completely reverse the trend of shorter, less-thoughtful NBA discussion going on over at Twitter and instead start our own trend of longer, less-thoughtful NBA discussion through e-mail.

Thus, we spent the last 36 hours or so exchanging some e-mails on the current state of the NBA, Tom Cruise’s acting career, the merit of NBA awards, the Stucci Brothers, those black-and-white “where will amazing happen next?” commercials, the greatness of the Denver Nuggets, Sacramento public transportation,  the Celtics’ decision to pick up Mikki Moore and, of course, Stephon Marbury’s head tattoo.

Here what transpired.

dwyane-wade-my-house

Wade,

Yesterday, I tweeted that I was now on the Dwyane Wade for Defensive Player of the Year bandwagon. I stated that I was completely gullible enough to be swayed by his two crucial blocked shots at the end of the Heat’s win over the Pistons.

Now, this could have just been a good sequence against a struggling Detroit franchise that seems to be more apt to shoot themselves in the foot than Billy Hoyle with the pressure of the Stucci brothers breathing down his neck. Or this could be a legitimate claim to something that should be his award with the type of season that he’s had with steals and blocks.

Should a 6′4″ shooting guard who is 13th in the league in total blocks and third in the NBA in total steals be getting more consideration? Should Dwight Howard who only has 101 more blocks than him be a virtual lock for this award? Should LeBron James who tracks guys down on the fastbreak and swarms the passing lanes be a front-runner even though he seems to be unable to get guys like Antawn Jamison to score under 30 points? Who deserves this thing?

Dazed and Confused,
Zach

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Zacharia,

I sort of think the entire whole award discussion thing is dumb, frankly. But I’ll play your little game, Harper.

It’s not so much that I don’t care about trying to determine which players are playing the best defense or which rookies are having the most affect on their teams’ successes, it’s just that I thought the whole point of having 1,500 websites discussing the NBA everyday was to add nuance and unique insight to the world of NBA analysis and fandom instead of having everyone try to arbitrarily and unsuccessfully quantify the same five or six players who we all know are bona fide Hall of Famers and among the Top 100 to ever lace em up. For me, trying to determine who’s playing better right now between Wade vs. LeBron comes down to the same exact thing that that Larry vs. Magic always does: Which one did I see most recently? Possibly not so coincidentally, my Top Gun vs. Days of Thunder and Rakim vs. Jay-Z rankings work on the same principle. (This whole analogy is sort of a lie cause I definitely think Bird is better, however, I reckon you get my point.)

But I digress.

I have a feeling Flash is going to come in second in both MVP and DPOY voting. Wade’s gaudy defensive stats aside, it’s tough for a guard to win the award. How many have ever done it? MJ and GP are the only two I’m positive about and it took each of them half a dozen years or so of perennial All-Defense First-Team status to even really enter the convo. Currently, Flash only has one 2nd-Team All-Defense on his resume. Plus, I’ve watched a lot of Heat games this year and while DWade is certainly one of the best defensive guards in the League when he saddles up and buckles down, his exhaustion from carrying 14 other guys on his back offensively all game does lead to him taking plays off and watching his man hit an easy shot after he failed to fight through a screen.

Don’t get me wrong; I’m sure Dwight takes a play off here and there too. But when you’re 6′11″, have a 96″ vertical and are the most ridiculous athlete in the history of the human civilization, you’re still playing pretty good D even if you’re just standing in the middle of the paint with your eyes closed. Didn’t David Robinson, the guy I’ve been most closely comparing Dwight to physically for years, win a DPOY award under pretty much that same theory?

In more important, yet-still-relevant-to-your-email news, check the second comment from Deadspin’s piece on the ARod photo-shoot in Details.

Let the great experiment begin,
Jared Wade

days-of-thunder

Days of Thunder and Top Gun: One has cars, one has planes.

Mr. Carry On My Wade-ward Son,

Now hold on just a minute. If arbitrary arguments that attempt to quantify things that probably have no business being decided didn’t exist then you probably would be having this email discussion by yourself instead of with yours truly. With that said, I think having a season-long stream of consciousness about who’s playing well, who’s playing poorly, and who’s playing exceptionally does have some merit. Players “stealing” or being given awards for a good stretch of basketball in March and April really takes away value to that award.

Maybe that doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things but if we’re going to laud Michael Jordan for back-to-back MVPs and Larry Bird for winning three straight then shouldn’t that have more meaning? To me, when history is brought into the conversation of why someone should win an award, the award immediately becomes a popularity contest rather than its original purpose of determining who’s the best in THAT year in that specific category. Now, I know that all of this makes me sound more like a hopeless romantic than Mikey in Swingers, but I think that it does matter in the grand scheme of basketball history.

I don’t want Dirk Nowitzki to be a one-time MVP because the media didn’t want Steve Nash in that rarified air of three straight MVPs. I don’t want the Mark Eatons of the world to have more Defensive Player of the Year awards than the Michael Coopers. I want players to earn the award by actual play on the court instead of numbers in one category.

Dwyane Wade for the most part is a lockdown defender, especially against the top talent in the NBA. Even though one singular play doesn’t win a basketball game, he’s twice won games this past month by making incredible defensive plays in crunch time. When LeBron isn’t playing the passing lanes or stalking a fast break lay-up like women in the greater L.A. area stock Luke Walton, LBJ seems to play defense like he’s Sidney Deane throwing a basketball game to hustle Billy Hoyle. To me that matters (by the way, Doyle McPoyle is probably my favorite, most consistent Deadspin commenter of the current A.J. Daulerio-led era).

Now onto the real topic of discussion that intrigues me from your email. I honestly don’t see how you can put Top Gun and Days of Thunder into the same category. I mean, I know that they’re both Tom Cruise movies from the Golden Age of the DramAction genre. But Top Gun has to be Far and Away (see what I did there with the Tom Cruise movie double entendre?) the better movie. There are lines like one of the ultimate things that every guy wants to say in passing to a girl, “If you don’t mind, I’ll just take a quick shower while you’re finishing up here.” It has the phenomenal singing in the bar scene as Kelly McGillis whilst sitting on a barstool is equally as tall as the Muggsy Bogues-sized Tom Cruise. It has the Anthony Edwards mustache. It has Tom Skerritt! And I’m sure I don’t have to talk about the homoerotic volleyball scene that has been beaten to death time and again. I just don’t see how Days of Thunder can really compete with this.

Sincerely,
Goose
——————————————————————————————————————————-

Misguided film viewer,

Rubbing Is Racing + Robert Duvall + hooker cop.

Mostly, I agree with your award meritocracy talk. I’m just bored of it. And rather than hear more about Dwyane/Dwight/LeBron, I’d rather read stuff about Roger Mason, Jr. or Thaddeus Young that I can’t get on future Peabody-winning shows like Cold Pizza or Around the Horn. But in sum, I just think Dwight is a more important defender than Flash. Dwyane’s prowess disrupts one offensive guy and leads to a few turnovers/easy buckets a game. Supes’ mere presence in the paint disrupts the entire offense. Big guys and shot blockers/adjusters are just always going to be more important due to the nature of the sport.

Moving on…Last time we corresponded you were about to board your dog cause you were leaving town. What’s up with that? Who boards dogs? Don’t you have any friends? Was it at least Badd Newz Kennelz? Too bad Ron Artest doesn’t still reside in Sacto. I’m sure he would have been more than happy to feed and water your dog, who I’m going to assume you named “Spike Bibby.”

There’s also a rumor that you went to Boston. Did you see a Celtics game? I saw the Cs/Sixers around Thanksgiving in the Garden Redux (you know, newer, bigger and much worse) and me and my dad sat next to a group of Martha’s Vineyard firefighters who were celebrating someone in the group’s 30th birthday. Aside from the fact that the concept of a firefighter from Martha’s Vineyard is pretty comical in and of itself, one of these cats was hammered and managed to build quite the friendship with my pops in the seven minutes that I spent buying beer and/or pissing during half-time. He was taking photos of himself with my dad as I got back to our row and, soon after, he was slurringly asking me stuff like “You know you’re dad is a great guy?” and “When are you going to give him some grandkids?” Then with about four minutes left in the 4th quarter, this firefighter sprung up from his seat and ran off to the bathroom where, we were later informed, he threw up in a urinal. Bravest indeed.

Now, I know this just sounds like a mildly interesting anecdote about a drunken Masshole, but astute readers will realize that the subtext of a story about puking in a urinal contains an apt metaphor for Boston’s Starbury acquisition.

This, then, leads me to my actual question. When you look at the optical illusion in the tattoo on the side of Steph’s dome (for reference, it’s the same image as the logo on the upper left of Starbury.com), what do you see first: The star or the number three? I have not yet tested my theory, but I’m guessing there is psychological correlation between a person’s answer to this question and his or her answer to whether he or she first sees the gypsy lady or the beautiful senorita in that similar optical-illusion picture. I think Freud could have become an even householdier name had he taken up this research. One thing’s for sure: someone needs to take up this cause.

Yours truly,
The Guy Still Tryna Convince Dwyane He’s My Cousin

marbury-head-tattoo

What do you see first: The number three or a star?

Mr. King of Queens,

You can’t just throw the hooker cop out there without considering that Val Kilmer in Top Gun would have done ANYTHING to be Top Gun in his class. He would have done unspeakable acts in film that now get you Academy Award nominations just to win that commendation. Some call that a friend with benefits, some call that a take-no-prisoners sort of go-getter, but I call that prostitution. So I’ll see your hooker cop and raise you the only moment in movie history where Meg Ryan seemed worth a damn.

Maybe boarding dogs is a West Coast thing that you easterners just don’t seem to do. Perhaps, it’s the reverse of liking Bruce Springsteen or giving a damn about hockey. It’s just something we do. I have plenty of friends that I could probably coerce into watching my dog at my house or at their respective house. But much like a child, it doesn’t mean that I trust the dog will come out of this unscathed. As I build this budding internet super-stardom, I can’t risk any unfavorable incidents/headlines like “owner of mediocre basketball website allows friends to watch his dog: death toll rising.”

If Ron Artest was still in town, I definitely would have left the dog with him. He still is attached to this city because he still calls into a local nighttime radio show about once every two weeks. I’m almost positive that he would have made his 10-year-old son, who’s well known for throwing elbows and playing with that inherent Artest Family Crazy Look in His Eye at a fourth grade level, learn some responsibility by ignoring my dog for a week. I would have gladly allowed my dog to come out of the Artest ranch, looking like an emaciated version of a 14-year-old Darius Miles. Sadly, my dog’s name is Brown Bear and not Spike Bibby. I would have named him after Mike Bibby but my dog can actually stop a mildly dangerous crossover and I don’t think he deserves to be beaten on a daily basis.

And you’re right; the rumors are true. I DID go to Boston a couple of weeks ago. It was my second time in the Northeast area of this country after visiting New York last summer. I was able to watch the Celtics (sans Rondo, Scal, Tony Allen, and KG) go up against the Orlando Magic on a Sunday afternoon. I’ve been procrastinating on a piece about my experience at a Celtics game with their fans and environment for quite some time and now it appears to be gaining as much questioning about its existence (on a relative scale) as Bill Simmons’ rumored NBA book has garnered. And I got to see the Stephon Marbury starting debut in person and even caught a glimpse of that vaunted tattoo.

Personally, I never even noticed the fact that it also looked like a “3″ until roughly a month ago. So I’ll definitely fall into the logo category of whatever psychological breakdown that brings about. And I think we should figure out this breakdown right here instead of waiting for smarter and more qualified people to tackle this issue. I would assume that people who see the logo are the same people who see the gypsy. Gypsies try to trick common folk into giving too much for an item and/or service. They’re great at sales and preying on the gullible. I’ve also heard that their tears can cure things. So it’s safe to say that they’re just like logos and brand name companies that try to get people to accept their items by paying more for them than what they cost to make. So maybe that means people like me are more gullible than the people who see the 3/senorita. Now, I’ll leave it up to you to figure out the other side of this correlation.

But I will throw in this twist: I was on the train a couple of days ago, heading home from work. This woman who I later overheard was from Reno (about three hours and another state away) had made her way down to Sacramento. She didn’t look like she was homeless but she didn’t look far from it, especially with her tendencies towards someone who loves her some crystal meth. She sat down next to this woman in front of me who was an Asian woman that could have been anywhere from 25- to 35-years-old. I was listening to podcasts much better than mine at the time so I didn’t pay much attention to it until I figured out that this potentially homeless woman was crying to this Asian woman and giving the sob story of her life.

The Asian lady had a very creepy smile that could have just looked that way because she was trying to fake interest in the crazy stylistic musings of the crying woman. As the story continued from the transplanted resident of Reno, it eventually led to the younger woman shedding her creepy smile in favor of hugging a complete and dirty stranger that she flat-out didn’t know and wouldn’t know after she got off at her train stop.

I was completely horrified by this on many levels. One, I’m anti-social and hate small talk with people that I will never see again (i.e., in elevators, public transportation, etc.). And two, I have a certain level of cleanliness that I require from someone I don’t know before I’ll even think about touching them. But the third level is something that I’ll pose to you in a similarly related way to the Marbury question you posed to me. Why are “normal” people unlike myself willing and able to completely accept people that they don’t know into their lives if even for a brief moment despite the considerable evidence against them?

Why would a Boston fan base welcome with open arms and defend the validity of a Mikki Moore signing when he’s clearly shown that unless Jason Kidd is playing alongside him that he’s not worthy of being in a regular NBA rotation, let alone for a team that is contending for their second title in as many years? Why would any fan base welcome/hug this seemingly and deservedly homeless NBA player without questioning it?

All the best,
The King of Buying Ladies a Zircon

(AP Photo/Duane Burleson)

(AP Photo/Duane Burleson)

Jeopardy Security Guard,

I’m not saying Days of Thunder is better, just that they’re both fantastic. Same movie; different vehicles.

I know nothing about dogs, so I can’t help ya out there. It was mainly just a means to the end of talking about Ron Artest and Spike Bibby. It’s very unfortunate, however, that you missed Scalabrine. The sheen of the jumbotron lights off his soft, pasty arms illuminates the building in a way that could never translate to HD. I have no further insight on the Starbury logo/sultry senorita debate other than mentioning the fact that it must be very humbling for Coney Island’s Finest to wake up every morning and stare at the number three inked into his skull only to go to work and put on jersey with the number eight on it. Do you think he asked Ainge whether or not the franchise would make an exception and allow him to wear the late, great Dennis Johnson’s #3? I like to think Steph asked Danny in a text that said: “think i ca n rock that nmbr 3!?!?? ;)

RE: Mikki Moore, I suppose you can lump me in with those that thought it was a good move. Then again, I’m one of those people who always respond to statements about how good Kevin Martin is with a “Look, man, you don’t hafta tell me” even though I never watch the Kings play. So I can’t say I really know much about Mikki’s abilities post-2006. He seems like a poor man’s Leon Powe in many ways, although I guess he is bigger. I dunno. Still seems like it was a good pickup even if it wasn’t a coup d’etat or anything. Since Christmas, I’ve thought the main reason the Cs can’t beat LeBron is because they literally didn’t have a single backup center or backup point guard on the bench. By picking up Mikki and Steph, you’re certainly not matching the absurd depth of the Lakers or Utah, but you at least addressed your key needs – even if it’s like tryna fix the hole in the Titanic with spackle.

Speaking of Utah and LA, the Western Conference is pretty awesome. Throw in SA, Houston (now first in the Southwest) and Denver, and that’s five fairly legit teams plus the flawed promise of NO, POR, Dallas and PHX. I’m excited about the fight for right to lose to LA in the First Round. Seems like a game of musical chairs that’s going to leave some unfortunate folks on the sidelines on the last day of the season.

But I guess what it really comes down to is: Can anyone beat LA?

With Manu hobbled again this year and Utah only now getting all its players on the same floor at the same time, I say no.

Farewell,
Wade

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J-Wade,

I don’t know about you, and maybe I’m just a stickler for the little things like this, but does the grammatical abortion that is today’s texting and tweeting style make you want to grab a small child and punch them in the throat? I would bet just about anything that if Steph actually sent a text to Danny Ainge about wearing #3 for the green then he definitely sent the exact text that you just typed, “think i ca n rock that nmbr 3!?!?? ;) ”  I’m not expecting a dissertation or someone’s thesis whenever I get a text message or throw on the ol’ Tweet Deck but the least they could do is use the proper form of their, there, they’re or your and you’re. Am I perfect with the grammar? Not at all. But a missed comma here or there is nothing like what is slung up on the internet at a rapid rate.

As for the Celtics and their moves, I disagree with them. I understand the reason for them and you’re right that they had to add something to their void at backup center and point guard. But I feel like they panicked with the Mikki Moore signing and it screwed them out of a chance at Joe Smith. The Marbury one I understand a little bit more. Personally, I say develop Gabe Pruitt over the last season and a half and you don’t have that problem. And unless they could convince Jannero Pargo to come back to the States to play ball, Marbury was the only chance. It just felt like they made a move because they felt they had to and not because it was the right move to make. Last year, P.J. and Cassell were the correct moves to make. Marbury may have been the only choice at point but Mikki was the worst choice for a big man. Joe Smith or Drew Gooden seem to make much more sense.

Now, let me attempt to answer your question, “can anyone beat LA?”

In short, the answer is yes. In the long version, the answer is a little more complicated than that. I believe that a healthy Utah Jazz team with a full head of steam could be just as dangerous in the playoffs as the Lakers. The Jazz were in the Western Conference Finals just a couple of seasons ago and they actually have a better and deeper team now than they did. The problem with them is that they’re as reliable to be healthy as Bill Walton was (or so I’m told). And we don’t know that they will be on a roll when they make the playoffs. So they’re a maybe.

I don’t take the Rockets seriously because they’re the Rockets. A team featuring Ron Artest with Von Wafer in the rotation is not legit to me. I love the addition of Kyle Lowry because the internets tell me he’s a really good, young point guard. And of course, I love Shane Battier and Luis Scola as the role players on that team. But the Rockets have more holes than Carl Landry’s leg (too soon?) on offense and I just wonder who’s going to be their crunch-time scorer in the playoff games. Yao? He doesn’t really seem to be able to assert himself in the final minutes of a game. Ron Artest? He thinks he’s a better shooter than Larry Bird and actually said recently that he thought that the Kings were title-worthy when he played here in Sacramento. So Houston is definitely out.

Denver is coached by George Karl so I think that it’s safe to say they’re out of the Western Conference title chase. Even if Chris Anderson is fixing his hair after every blocked shot.

Portland’s too young. Phoenix is too skittish. Dallas isn’t a real basketball team. And New Orleans can’t give Chris Paul any help.

But that does leave San Antonio and they have a legit shot. They still execute better than just about any other team and when Manu Ginobili is the guy at the end of games, it’s hard to beat them in a seven-game series. They have enough depth to challenge the mighty depth of the Lakers and they have plenty of closers on that team to make big shots. They’re more than good enough defensively. And they have the experience to get past the Lakers. I think they can and I think they’re basically a coin flip at this point. But that has more to do with my assertion that the Lakers are mentally weak in pressure situations.

So clearly, you think the Lakers are hands down the likely winners of the West. What is keeping the rest of the West from challenging them and why are the Spurs not the team that can beat them?

Till later,
Mateen Cleaves’ Worst Nightmare

Roger Mason, Jr. explains green to kids who were born blind.

Roger Mason, Jr. explains green to kids who were born blind.

Talk Hooper,

Yes on the grammar issue. I edit people’s tweets before I re-tweet, have been known to drop semi-colons in text messages and can’t recall ever replacing a word with its numeric equivalent.

I agree on the Jazz. If Kobe and Co. are going to stumble, it’s most likely going to be in Salt Lake. The front-court depth is insane: Booz, Millsap, AK, Memo, CJ Miles and Matt Harpring. How does that even happen in the watered-down, thirty-team era? Even that pseudo-foreigner Kosta Koufos dude can play a little bit. I’ve been rather impressed with Ronnie Brewer all season too and I think he’s going to impress a lot of people in the Playoffs. Korver is cash and Deron is Deron. I mean, that’s a solid, solid team.

But have they played together enough? That’s my concern. Plus, as good and deep as that frontcourt is, who is stopping Pau? Aside from the undersized Millsap, none of those guys play any D to speak of. It’s just hard to see Boozer being ready to grind as hard in the paint as he’s going to need to do for Utah to really threaten LA after only playing like thirty regular season games.

I thought the Spurs had a shot as of a month ago. I was riding shotgun in the Roger Mason bandwagon before he was even hitting game winners every other day and I think Matt Bonner is legitimately legit.

But it all comes down to Manu’s ankle.

I really think he never recovered from the Olympics injury and now can’t get healthy enough to go 35 mpg for 20 games in the West Playoffs. Don’t get me wrong: Tony Parker has been truly transcendent this season and that is maybe the most underreported story of the year, but if Manu can’t take over consistently for long stretches, I just don’t see it.

As for other Western Conference “contenders,” I’m sure Denver has no legit shot but I really like watching them. A lot of it is how they play and the relative inconsistency of the team’s players each night. But more so, it’s just their personnel.

I wouldn’t say I actually like all the guys they have as actual human beings or anything, but everyone from Melo, Chauncey and JR Smith to Birdman, Nene and K-Mart has a career story arc that I find intriguing. They’re all sort of real-life underdogs — even Melo, who has somehow gone through an unparalleled, seven-year transition from phenom (‘Cuse) to overrated (first couple years) to underrated (DWade’s 2006 Playoffs obliterating all “Big 3 from 2003″ talk) to overrated (like three months later after strong Team USA showing) to underrated (now). Plus they have my boy Linus Kleiza, who I think has a Hedo Turkogluesque chance to blow up in like three years and make everyone say, “Is that the former 8th man from Denver?” Throw in Renaldo Balkman’s ability to generate Zeke nostalgia and it’s a jambalaya of enjoyment.

Speaking of Playoffs, how do you feel about the black-and-white commercials? I’m pretty into em. Manu’s bald spot is somehow even better sans Technicolor. Although I’m not sure how they picked a Kobe moment from that Suns series where he decided not to come out of the locker room for the second half of a Game 7 like four days later. The NBA ad wizards made up for that though by doing one with Joe Johnson though.

Until luego,
Jared
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Mr. Both Teamer,

With the commercials, I couldn’t be happier. They’re cheesy as hell, some of the footage seems dated (see Kobe wearing #8) and I’m pretty sure that by tweaking the old piano music from last year on Garageband that I could have come up with the new song, but other than that I’m completely on board with them.

Although here are a few moments for the players involved I think they should have chosen instead:

LeBron James: LBJ taking about 15 minutes to consider throwing the playoff games after being offered $50 million by a Vegas casino. I know the guy is “all about winning” but I think that when he says that, he thinks that the word winning actually means money.

Kobe Bryant: I’d like the over the shoulder view of him firing up his MacBook Pro, clicking on a link that has Shaq in the title, seeing that Shaq is curious how Kobe liked the taste of an orifice, and then chucking the laptop across the room. Then the final five seconds could be him wearing a Jordan jersey and staring at the mirror.

Chris Paul: Telling his teammates that they have no marbles like Tanaka in Major League II and then frustratingly walking away from the huddle before the TV timeout was over.

Kevin Garnett: I can’t get enough of him leveling Zaza Pachulia with that screen in last year’s playoffs. But I’d really like to see him barking at Jerryd Bayless or wagging his finger in Calderon’s face. That minus the Technicolor would be watched by me over 100 times per day.

Joe Johnson: I’d like to see him in black and white, trying to send messages back and forth between Mike Woodson and Josh Smith. With moments like Josh Smith saying, “Will you please tell a CERTAIN SOMEONE that his play calling isn’t featuring me enough?” Then we get a close-up on Joe Johnson rolling his eyes.

Paul Pierce: I’d like KG to be cooking everyone dinner at Paul’s house, then Ray Allen pulls out a knife to help make the salad and Paul Pierce goes running upstairs in sheer terror.

Dwyane Wade: I’d like him sitting in on a meeting with Erik Spoelstra and Pat Riley as Riles introduces the new coach and gives a breakdown of the roster in a Power Point presentation. Then Dwyane Wade asking if Ashton Kutcher was there, waiting to punk him before he pushes the table over and storms out of the room. Last five seconds would be him wearing a Knicks jersey while staring in the mirror with a sheepish grin on his face.

As for the Nuggets, I can’t think of a more unlikely group of guys to hang out with. It seems like it would be like a season of The Real World that never stops. Carmelo would be the one with a checkered legal past. He can’t quite stop himself from looking for fights at the bar but keeps telling people that he’s a changed man from what he used to be. Chris Anderson is obviously the comedic value of the show and the former drug user who does things like eating a whole tub of licorice in a night to keep himself from using drugs again. Nene is the token foreigner who doesn’t quite fit in but always has a pretend smile on his face like he knows what’s going on. Kenyon Martin would be the person that ends up breaking his leg during some bar fight or tearing his knee on the group vacation halfway through the season. J.R. Smith would be the young person that nobody can stand but he does some pretty remarkable things at clubs so everyone keeps him around. And Sonny Weems is just fun because everyone loves saying his name.

I completely enjoy this Nuggets team and can’t stop myself from watching every game they play just for the Chris Anderson factor. How has nobody made a reality TV show about this guy’s daily events? I’d love to see confessional-type interviews where he talks about his blocked shots or why he doesn’t have a drinking problem. I’d love to see his familial interaction. I’d love to see if he has any brothers and if so, how he acts around them. And I think the reason that he works on this team and why everyone seems in place is because of the acquisition of Chauncey Billups. Nobody liked playing with Iverson. No one would ever say so because I assume A.I. is a guy that people are still kind of afraid of. Nobody quite knows who is involved with his inner circle and how big their probation reports are. So replacing him with someone like Billups who can be a coach on the court means that everyone is relaxed and they know that they don’t have to rely on George Karl to make crunch-time decisions.

Is he the biggest coaching mistake waiting to sink his playoff team? Are there other coaches that will screw their team more than him?

Signing off,
Zach Harper

Everyone loves Birdman -- even announcers afraid of tattoos.

Everyone loves Birdman -- even announcers afraid of tattoos.

Zach,

Most people seem to hate Karl. I don’t think he’s a particularly good coach, but I’m not sure he’s going to kill em all by himself. They have plenty of poor decision-makers, injury-prone frontcourt players, inconsistent role players and streaky jumpshooters that should be able to handle that all on their own.

As for Chris Anderson, his success this year really is a great story. It’s like a less hyped, less dramatic, less unbelievable version of the Josh Hamilton triumph last year. The only thing that’s really unfortunate is that Birdman didn’t get a re-do on the dunk contest this year. I think he could have attempted more dunks in the first round of the dunk contest than Josh Hamilton hit home runs in the first round of the derby. But despite that poor attempt at a joke, I’m serious about his comeback. It’s been great to watch this season.

One other thing about Chris Anderson happened last night during the Suns/Nuggs game (which was tremendous…I love me some Jared Dudley). The Suns announcers were flummoxed by the fact that Chris had so many tattoos, yet none on his legs. And after carrying on for a few minutes of tattoo conversation that was roughly as interesting as listening to a couple of gym teachers comparing/contrasting vinyl siding installation strategies, one of the guys said (paraphrasing) “But even though he has all those tattoos, everyone you talk to says he’s just the nicest guy.”

If that doesn’t sum up the generational disconnect between the old NBA guard and the young bucks currently playing, I don’t know what does. Essentially, the announcers trying to explain to me what’s going on in an NBA game are fearfully looking at guys with tattoos like they’re James Dean rocking a red leather jacket. And I’m not one to really go to the race well, but it sounds like there was a clear assumption that JR Smith and Kenyon Martin were not “the nicest guys.” Since K-Mart and JR are probably pretty big dunces of civilization, I guess it’s not the greatest example, but the whole episode pretty much made me want to mute the broadcast and put on some Bun B.

Or a Talk Hoops podcast.

I mean, that thing’s good. I just caught up on the last month or so last week and not only did I get to hear a great story about you seeing a vagrant jerk off on the Sacramento subway, but I also learned that Sacramento has a subway. That right there is what we in the Boogie Down Bronx call edutainment. Keep up the good work on that.

What I’m saying is: You can be my wingman any time.

Stay classy,
Wade

top-gun-wingman

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