Peering Into Boxes

We're sorry there's not more coverage of the playoffs here, but really, there's A LOT of it out there--on the Twitter and over at the FanHouse. If you aren't already, you should definitely be reading the Playoff Talking Points columns Shoals has been doing, and also check the epic Rookie of Year list that he and Ziller laid down this morning. And make sure you read the comments, too, so you can explain this to me: "guadeloupe , martinique , reunion island and french guiana are not colonie. They are french department like Paris is . Do you consider Hawai like a colony ?"

You Can See Your Own Reflection

You heard it everywhere but here first: new FDPDOC podcast went up yesterday. One of these, I'll make a triumphant return to those parts. Be reading my Playoff Talking Points. And below, check out these images sent to me for purposes of sharing (via bobarke/champions)

We All Have Questions

This is a very important question that I think warranted discussion. However, first some news: FreeDarko's Undisputed Guide to Pro Basketball History now has a cover! Also, please be reading my Playoff Talking Points. Now, me and Eric Freeman look into Steve Nash and the sin of omission, or projection, or that which cannot be named.

Bethlehem Shoals: In the interest of full disclosure and total, awkward honesty, this email exchange is an attempt to recreate a phone conversation from the afternoon of Thursday, April 22, 2010. I telephoned Eric Freeman, outraged that Steve Nash—generally seen as one of the more politically active, or at least aware, Phoenix Suns—wasn't speaking out against the anti-brown person malarky being considered by the state of Arizona. Actually, I was outraged that no one was crying for him to speak out. Remember when LeBron James not taking a stand against Darfur made national news? Now, a player with a reputation for activism had nothing to say about a serious issue in his own state.

Eric Freeman: Maybe Nash just isn't as big or controversial an activist as we thought. If you look at his charitable contributions, they all involve your standard fare: green initiatives (the charity so uncontroversial that both NBC and the NBA devote an entire week to it), children's funds (which is essentially apolitical now), etc. Those are all worthwhile causes, of course, but not on the same level as a birtherist bill in his state of employment. I think he gets this attention as an activist simply because he looks like one: floppy hair, white, wears vaguely trendy clothing. He's easier to sell as a politically involved player because it requires less convincing on the part of the league -- they can trot him out there without much explanation. He's a useful presence for the causes the league wants to promote.

BS: Okay, after remembering the web research I did yesterday, I have to agree. Although he was against the war before it was considered okay, which has to count for something. I'm tempted to say that Amar'e, with his ongoing work in Sierra Leone, might be doing more—though then we get into the difference between service, activism, and how much either one is ever strictly "political". This still hasn't answered my question, though: If Nash has this identity projected onto him, and it contributes to his popularity (or at least his image), why doesn't it come into play here? It's almost like he gets the benefit of being viewed this way without being held accountable. Whereas when LeBron James and Kobe go to China, they're expected to become political. Nash gets a pass here . . . because he already is?



For the record, Steve Nash spoke out against Darfur in the spring of 2007; Ira Newble's petition was around the same time. Kobe and LeBron lent their names to the cause in spring 2008, then were mum during the Olympics. Not to editorialize, but Nash is the most popular athlete in Arizona. If ever there were a time when his voice really mattered like no other, and thus would really be taking a stand, this is it. But again, is that what athletes are obliged to do?

EF: The difference here, I think, is that speaking out would be a direct response to many of his fans. Granted, I'm sure a large number of Mavs fans were pro-war in 2003, but that's a broader argument not specific to the state in which he played. This issue is about Arizona, and he's the most popular basketball figure in the state. It'd be a break not just with a popular political position, but the legislature of the state he represents around the rest of the country.

BS: So athletes are expected to use their influence for good . . . except when it hits too close to home and could potentially alienate some of their fans? I'm not sure how that's so different from my argument that we shouldn't expect LeBron to be responsible for a chain of international affairs that leads from Oregon to Darfur. Not because he's incapable of it, but because at some point, there are limits to responsibility. Except here, the limit would be. . . when it really involves a serious confrontation with the people who look up to you? It's almost like Steve Nash has done enough to be given this pass (which to some degree, makes sense to me), but other athletes who don't do anything can have expectations thrown at them willy-nilly.

EF: But how often are athletes asked to take controversial stands? Even in the case of LeBron and Darfur, there wasn't significant uproar about his decision not to take a stand -- it's not as if liberal activists would turn down his involvement in any number of less controversial issues. It's almost as if the public wants action, but not necessarily anything that could undermine their status as basketball players. It sounds great to have another Muhammad Ali, but what if political circumstances hadn't allowed him to return to boxing? Is that a tradeoff we're willing to risk?

BS: It was too a big story. I think the first one—his refusal to sign Ira Newble's petition—may have been bigger than the Olympics silence. To be fair, the latter was a gag order imposed by Colangelo, so that would have required a higher order of un-American defiance. But that first time around, it was in the Wall Street Journal and stuff. Brought up the whole "no better than Jordan" conversation. He eventually did end up addressing it, along with Kobe and several others, and there was no fallout. Not during the Olympics, or in China afterward, but again, maybe those fall under the "asking too much" rubric. LeBron is really obligated to defy the Chinese government while he's on a publicity tour there?

Maybe it's a question of good politics, in the most cynical sense. There's idealism, and then there's realism. We should always assume that athletes are hampered by some degree of realism. The question is, in Nash's case, can we push that so far that he's totally let off the hook? You're right, he would be directly challenging his fans. Not just staking out a position in some vague geo-political system of affairs. That would be like LeBron protesting Darfur during the Olympics—it would go right up against what American told him to do. He would be defining America for himself. That's what Nash would be doing in this case.

Except, and maybe this is key, dude's Canadian. Oooops!

You May Have Heard It Happened

I know, not only is this site barren, I've now resorted to straightforward photos of players. Players I was slow to embrace as postseason creatures (for the record, it took one win before I believed Believe. There's a gulf between theory and practice for me, and it's called proof.) Really though, what the fuck does this image mean? Anyway, here's some stuff elsewhere, but all under FD's dominion, that may interest you:

-New Disciples of Clyde podcast.

-Ziller and I adventure into the Bobcats and get hit in the head with a pan.

-I'm writing every day about what happened, and what's about to happen, in the playoffs. You will like this one, which is about the logic of styles and systems and tropes of wisdom.

And, after much thought, this is my favorite Gangstarr song. There's some sentimental reasons at play, but I think that's the case with a lot of people's Gangstarr picks.

RIP IT

Slippery slope, my friends. Exile opens up all sorts of dark doorways, like when someone saw fit to start calling Iguodala "Iggy Hop" during the 2008 playoffs. I wish I knew how to work Google Vid so I could put Rondo highlights over this.

BONUS: Here's a short email interview I did with Neil Michael Hagerty for FD.

Better Now Than June

FreeDarko is where you come for the NBA news you can't get anywhere else, the opinions that threaten convention. How about this one: That Amar'e Stoudemire dunk on Tolliver really was something. Yes, I know, a play almost instantly enshrined as the best of the season (that would make him the real Dunk Champ, btw, since "In-Game Contest" is impossible to pull off). For whatever reason, it didn't really sink in with me at the time. Maybe I was traveling at the time. But as I saw it—numerous times, though mostly in slow-motion—the Tolliver dunk was mostly about force and demolishment. Great, and the kind of thing that will break the dunk news cycle wide-open (or get it going at all, if that makes more sense). I even bought the Dunk of the Year line; sure, it was dramatic and the quintessential soul-killing assault. That's what the D-League is for, I guess.

As much as I like what Amar'e has done to his game since that fateful injury—the day, you could say, that FD lost its innocence and started chipping away at its will to live—I've always wondered if that physical phenom would ever return. I've tried, extensively at times, to convince myself that it didn't matter, or that it happened but only made sense on the level of words and reason. Yet watching him dunk, I saw something admirable, booming, but just a little sad. That spark of the divine was lost forever, so I thought, left to the likes of Tyrus Thomas—who, let's face it, never knew how to control and enact it like Amar'e. Since the days of Kemp, no dunker has as infernally mixed up size, speed, strength, reflex, and yes, savagery like 2004-05 Amar'e Stoudemire. Young Shaq coming from the other side of the spectrum, and Howard, great as he is, is more like Amar'e last season than this.

(Note: Eric Freeman is responsible for designating this the official AMARE IS BACK dunk. I expanded on that theme. I do not cheat voluntarily.)

I am not merely overworked, or cynical, or intent on my own death. For whatever reason, though, it didn't occur to me that this might be a revelatory moment, that the buzz might be over something more than kickin' ass and spoilin' shorts. Then, at some point during yesterday's playoff vigil, I watched it again. At full-speed, over and over again. That's when I realized two things: Fiddling with the speed and angle of a dunk on a replay detracts from it. Show it quick and dirty like it happened, for only then can we truly gauge its magnitude. And, two, that was the Amar'e of old. Most of you probably knew this weeks ago, but he tore right through Tolliver and into the rim while barely touching the ground; generating immense power so quickly, so effortlessly, that "delicate" needs to be added in there somewhere.

So yeah, I'm suddenly really excited to watch the Suns today. Let's take one more look and listen.

String Those Nerves Together Now

In olden days, I would have said "read what I wrote over there but this is the real", and then poured out my innards. But the problem with FanHouse is that they want me doing whatever. Have you read the previews Ziller and I did? I really couldn't make any less sense if I wanted to. So read them. Thus, as the playoff monster begins to stir, I find myself on my own doormat, faced with the possibility that what's on FD might be more straightforward than my "real" gig. Strange times we inhabit. However, I wanted to tend to these lands, dry and shriveled as they have become. So here's my very sober, useful rundown of Things That Persuade Me in This Postseason.

1. The Thunder--Really, can there be any doubt? Forget for a second that Durant is, if not LeBron's narrative, mystical equal, maybe even greater for not being equipped with a superpower's physique. He looks like I figure Young Ezekiel did, and also deserves some sort of otherworldly, possibly Martian, nickname. LeBron is, pardson the pun, all embronzed. Durant is exotic metals; there's a reason why, at one point, there was an Avatar comparison for him in a part of the new book. I think we finally decided it was at once too true and too silly to comprehend.

But the Thunder as a whole represent so much we've been in favor of while—and here's the kicker—without seeming like a leap of faith. Serge Ibaka is not a test. Russell Westbrook is not a test. The Hawks when they dared face Boston were exhilarating, but living on the edge can sometimes leave you feeling tawdry. No one thinks OKC beat LA, but good luck finding a single serious basketball fan who expects a sweep with zero intrigue.

2. Brandon Jennings--Tyreke Evans is a major stylist, and I still don't think people are letting that all-around game of his sink in. I've made my peace with Curry. But Jennings is the only one left standing, and while the Bucks are taking two games---no more, no less--tell me you aren't excited to see Jennings try his hand at the playoffs. No Bogut hurts the team's case, and Jennings' absolute value, and yet if the Bucks are going down anyway, why not do so with something resembling a Brandon Jennings showcase? I'm not talking about no 55; that's probably what led to his abrupt drop off the ROY map (and Curry's rise).

Let's just see Jennings carry himself like he belongs there, run his team, and demonstrate the game that makes him a clear-cut building block at the one. At the beginning of the season, the AI comparisons were pure bunk to me. I loved Jennings best when he slithered around the half-court looking to make a play. He can either jack up shots here in desperation or dig in and try to animate the bunch. One good thing about Skiles: He will be, umm, gently pushing for number two.

3. Dwyane Wade-- No one told me, I didn't notice, and frankly (stats aside), it didn't show all the time. But Wade was still pretty out-of-this-world in the 2009-10. Thus, I am looking forward for Wade to really blow it all out. That Round One is against Boston, the perfect team to fly headlong into and hope for collapse (or a revved-up guitar soundtrack) (is it so wrong that I once found a LeBron mix soundtracked with Iron Maiden?).

Despite what I've been writing at FanHouse, I don't quite get how players are thinking of these playoffs in terms of this summer. No one needs to be convinced that Wade can prevail, at least game-to-game. Still, 2010 is more than a rat race, it's a pecking order, with LeBron's 2010-ness having become some measure of his absolute power over the league. Not that Wade can nibble away at that, but riding high as the Free Agency babble begins is very much the new pecking order around the league. Like standings or balloting ever matter; there all we ever hear about is the winner. Not so with 2010. The whole world is watching and Wade is certainly looking to gain a little on LeBron. The question, though: What happens to this hierarchy once 2010 is over?



4. Bobcats WTF--I really, really need some help on this one. It's almost like when you go to a mental hospital in the fifties (okay, I'm imagining Shutter Island), and everyone's sweeping floors and playing Risk!, and then all of a sudden there's a disturbance and things really jump off. Is Larry Brown the warden? Wait, how is he not—I'm sorry to repeat myself so often on this count—the Bad News Bears coach? (Billy Bob version, motherfuckers . . . if I go down that path, I go down it all alone.)

Stephen Jackson, Gerald Wallace, Tyrus Thomas, Boris Diaw, Tyson Chandler, even Raymond Felton . . . it's like karmic revenge for the Believe! Warriors. If you let me coach this team I would discover Atlantis and burn down a subway. But no one's even suggesting that this team is scrappy, or violent, or even miscreants floating out on a boat somewhere (love that movie Strange Cargo!). For God's sake, didn't Stephen Jackson decree himself a pirate at some point?

5. Please let the Derrick Rose backlash begin now. Please bring back that psychedelic karaoke Luol Deng.

6. In the immortal words of J.E. Skeets, WHAT DO YOU THINK!??!!?!??!?

Looking Through the Glass

Do you miss the days when we FreeDarkoites previewed every playoff series for Deadspin? Fret no longer. Shoals and honorary FDer Tom Ziller will be previewing each match up over at FanHouse, and they're every bit as weird as the stuff you irregularly read here. There are charts! And hipsters!

First up are two of the series I'm most looking forward to: Cleveland/Chicago and Orlando/Charlotte. Check back throughout the day for the rest.

Say Good Bye to the Ground

As reported by Psychedelic Kimchi last week: "hipsters have infiltrated NBA fandom." And with that in mind, we bring you Dan Filowitz of The Disciples of Clyde with Today’s Man and the first ever NBA playoffs preview song inspired by Slint.

Download the mp3.

[Today’s Man is Anup Gurnani, Nithin Kalvakota, and Gregoire Yeche.]

Planned Parenthood

Sometimes, I meet stray pets on the street, and they want to know all about the origins of this site. After I ask for money and comb my hair with a motor, it all comes down to one thing: Skitatime. That's what I wanted to call it; that's who, from that vintage of Euros, I found most hilarious. And it's great when chanted to the tune of Joe McPhee's Nation Time, which reminds me that I always confuse him with John McPhee, which would make Skita the Bill Bradley of the alternate universe in which there are too many Green Lanterns. In short, I miss you, and basketball has made me fat.

But yo, everything just popped back into place. While innocently scanning HoopsHype, I discovered a site that many of you already probably know of: The Hoop. If only blogspot names were worth something like domains are. This place is great as can be, consisting—as far as I can tell—only of updates on the stormy overseas careers enjoyed by Skita (nee Nikoloz Tskitishvili) and, as seen in this actual post, the Greek Shaq, Sofoklis Schortsanitis. The plot has thickened for both of them several times over; they have left teams, come back, helped, hurt, loved, and at least in the case of Sof-Schort, caught some NBA interet. Rooftop like we bringing 2002 back!

If I had a dream, it would be for these players to exist in America, and be as chimeric, unknown, and yet impermeable as the greatest J.R. Riders. I wish, I really do, that we had gotten to see genuine Euro enigmas, or assholes (Darko doesn't count, he's no character) make a mess of the NBA like the blacks have. Instead they were all shuttled quickly out of the league, or thrown onto the bench, if they didn't reinforce the narrative of international salvation. Good thing I can see that Skita and Greek Shaq are alive and well and confusing the rest of the known basketball universe. I challenge all of us to be a little richer for it.

That blog is also very useful if you want to know what Taequan Dean has planned for next. Another wish: Could I get Extra! to deliver all this news? Same hosts, tone, lighting, and all that? Maybe there's a computer program that allows simulation of this? See, look what happens when old friends roost in a far-off land where somehow, they manage to make us feel oh-so at home—even as they drive themselves away and back into the sea.

Swim for it, guys. It's all we've got.

Sports! Plagues!

It took me two days to come up with a viable Passover gimmick post, and as it turned out, it was totally unhinged and offensive on unexpected fronts. But I would like you to read it, because it is fun, and because I live to dispel the myth that everything I write for AOL is corporate crap.

"Why Are These Nicknames Different From All Other Nicknames?"

Someone wrote an email into whatever WNYC show is on now saying you should send in your census form, but undercount your family members to STARVE THE BEAST. I could feel Dale Gribble tapping on my shoulder and yelling in my ear.

Has anyone seen Mother yet? I keep trying to see it but the showtimes are fucked. Your friend, Shoals.