Sleep has its brambles

Some commentors have pointed to last summer as the point when FreeDarko veered off into infinity. Amazingly, I now find myself tormented by incredibly prosaic NBA matters, the type best addressed by motley committee.

-Al Harrington's Fevered Existence: Harrington and, to some degree, Rashard Lewis have always fascinated me for their cloudy reps. High schoolers who neither flopped nor soared, but are seemingly undervalued because they're still saddled with that "possibly so talented that they should make that jump" label. Harrington went to Atlanta expected to star, and it's still not clear to me that he was ever given the chance. Now, though, he supposedly headed back to Indiana to either stand in line on the wing or spell O'Neal. It's like he's being punished for being neither Kobe nor a Kwame-like endless project.

-Yuta Tabuse's blog: Pichi Campana Aguanta called this to my attention, and I then sat staring at it for about fifteen minutes before accepting that it would remain forever encoded to these eyes. While I stand by the cosmic signifiance of KG's blog ("I have to say, I was feeling like Rod Stewart"), Yuta's probably has a far more practical function: he's a much-beloved fan favorite with style to burn and a lively impetus to show up proper in exhibiton games. In short, he's the anti-Paul Shirley, and I'd dare speculate that his summer league diary might offer a lighter, more uplifting take on the experience.



-On the other hand, Fred Jones into the wind could not be less important to me. Hitting three's will be important there, I guess. And dude can finish. Weird that a talented but unsatisfying two can come to Colangelo-ville and is immediately get recast as a monster component. That, people, is why the point guard position matters; NOOCH is doing some similar things in the way they conceive of players, and the Conference Finals Nets were all about this kind of slightly insulting maximalization.