Your Standard Blog Entry
Not fooling anyone with this pseudo-journalism.
The most underrated story of this season is Jason Kidd—via Vince Carter—completely solidifiying his spot as the greatest point guard of the post-Magic/Stockton era. Actually, let me rephrase that, the most underrated story is Vince Carter, the Toronto malcontent who fell from Jordan comparisons to “he’s slightly better than Ricky Davis” rankings, playing like the Vince of four years ago. He is averaging nearly 11 points more per game with the Nets, a team that has a legitimate other scoring option, and seems to be pulling off 30-point performances every other night. Usually when guys have the type of injury history that Vince has, they gradually fade into obscurity (see Chris Webber for a work in progress). The re-ascent of Vinsanity has been truly amazing.
Sean May, that is, the NBA Sean May, will fall somewhere between Mike Sweetney and Charles Barkley (yes, because all three of these players are FAT). I’m going to say he will hover slightly below Zach Randolph territory. His footwork is seriously the sweetest I have seen at any level next to, gulp, Duncan, but his lack of height will KILL him against most other 5s. Plus, he hasn’t convinced me of any defensive greatness yet.
That over-the-shoulder pass from Shawn Livingston to Mikki Moore last night signifies everything right with the NBA. On my list of players who I am excited about and will enjoy watching in 2009, Livingston falls at the number 3 spot, right after Lebron and Dwyane Wade, and just before Greg Oden.
Lastly, something to ponder. Are hoops hip? Like, there was definitely a period of my college years when I tuned out sports altogether, because they were associated with frat-like behavior and Chumbawumba. I also didn’t own a TV and was blinded by a hip-hop obsession. Now that I have re-embraced the NBA (as well as, to a lesser extent, MLB and NFL) more in my quasi-adulthood, I keep running into people (e.g. freedarko’s own Bethlehem Shoals) who are all, “Oh, you like the NBA too?” which is somewhat parallel to finding out that all your friends listen to NPR, but dangerously close to devolving into everyone thinking they’re fucking cool because they know where to buy fresh produce and how to knit a goddamn scarf. Does this make any sense at all? Maybe I’m totally alone on this one. And maybe I’m just feeling the effects of bouncing around from fake-art-obsessed New York, to fake-politics-obsessed Berkeley, to truly-sports-obsessed Chicago.