Between Thought And Expression
Lil' Wayne's "Guess Who's Back" freestyle. Tom Verlaine's solo on Television's "Marquee Moon," Fugazi, live, playing with no setlist. Messi's fucking coconuts Maradona-goal from last week, Michael Vick challenging conventional wisdom regarding whether one man can avoid being tackled by 11 men. Reggie Bush challenging basic laws of physics. The classic moments of the Jasons (Kidd and the highlight or die best of Williams).
Motherfuckers exist in bullet-time. Whether you're writing, running a break, fucking or rapping you might get lucky enough to have a moment where there seems to be no divide between thinking of something and executing the thought; where an idea hits and you articulate it like you've been marinating it in Bitches Brew for most of your adult life even though, really, you just pulled it out of your ass. Art of the improvisers, Hep Cats.
Devin Harris caught one of those last night. It got kinda lost in the extra-curricular activities ; namely, Baron Davis telling reporters that Stephen Jackson "is my shrink," (which is kinda like saying Sean Penn is your Narcotics Anonymous sponsor). And honestly if I didn't TiVo the shit I might've missed it. Third quarter, running 3/4 speed fast break, off the dribble, no dip in momentum, ONE-HANDED, FROM THE WRIST BULLET CROSS-COURT, THREADED PAST/THROUGH/ A COUPLE OF WARRIORS ON SOME MAGIC BULLET SHIT, RIGHT INTO JASON TERRY'S HAPPY ZONE. THREE-POINTER, MIKAEL PIETRUS MAKES THE "NO HE DIDN'T" FACE. DON NELSON'S DOG MAKES THE "YES HE FUCKING DID!" FACE.
No, it wasn't the greatest pass I've ever seen. Probably wasn't the best one this week. Back in my pre-tobacco days I fancied myself a bit of a drive 'n dish cat (minus a left-hand or viable floater or court awareness). I pissed off many a taller dude by firing some Stevie Wonder shit at their foreheads without looking. If you've ever run a break, you know what Devin did IS A REALLY FUCKING HARD THING TO DO.
Right, that's why he's Devin Harris and we're not. But there was something special about the mix of off-handed creativity and J.B.'s-playing-"The Grunt Pt. 2"-precision.
There was this scene on Friday Night Lights (for those who don't know: it's like The Wire with happy endings and indie rock), where golden-boy-turned-murderballer Jason Street tries to tell the new QB how to throw a nearly-impossible 18 yard out without getting it picked. And young dude says, I can't make that throw. Street doesn't trot any there is no CAN'T in AMERICAN bullshit because he can't walk anymore. He just says, if you can make this throw, defenses will fear you. It's not about self-belief; it's about thinking of something and saying, 'Why the fuck not.' Devin got some kids running scared last night.