Top of the World!

"This is what I imagine JaVale McGee will look like in the dunk contest" - me
"Now I know how Brandon Jennings will win this dunk contest" - Eric

Kyle from Truth About It hipped me to these -- he was working on a truly massive, admirable post on the lost 1977 contest, and had some questions. I responded with "I remember reading about this", and drooled over this video for about five years. If you want to see my early thoughts on this year's field, here I am. Katz has compiled video previews. I failed, though, to stress enough that I really envision McGee experiencing some sort of centrifugal mishap and being torn limb-from-limb like Rabbi Akiba.

I woke up this morning and asked myself if this wasn't a totally new dunk contest paradigm: no swingmen, three big men when every one of those other than Dwight Howard has failed to impress (I never liked him much in the contest, either), and the wild card/sidekick in Brandon Jennings who is there only to entertain. That DeAndre Jordan, not DeMar DeRozan, seems like the biggest snub tells you something about the direction this group of competitors signals. I'm not sure exactly what the aim is -- get back to me after we see how it pans out -- but this represents a clean break with the past. Embracing the misfits and introducing a clear element of absurdity. Or maybe focusing on new kinds on weaponry. Whatever, when the dunk contest matters, it's as central to the culture of the sport as any non-playoff game. We look to it year after year because inside, something's been missing for a long time.

I now want to turn my attentions to a more serious topic: the Ted Williams story that has all the country aflutter. First, let's get one thing out of the way: some part of me will never stop laughing from reading a "Cavs Hire Homeless Internet Sensation" headline on my phone while still in bed. Sorry dudes, that's how it is. Also, for Williams, this is great. Obviously. I know nothing about him, but when a guy goes from nothing to something overnight, and finds his life back on track when he thought he was done for ... well, that's when I write sentences like that. And the more I think about, the more insidious, and just plain manipulative, it seems.

For one, the whole notion of random, unicorns-and-rainbows charity administered in a state with really, really serious job shortages and foreclosure plague (how are drug sales these days? I'm guessing no one can afford it) is kind of insensitive. Maybe even crass. I understand that Williams is a decent guy who is very deserving of a fresh start. But come on ... it wouldn't make more sense, as something other than a publicity stunt, to spread the charity around a little? I know, this also lands the Cavs and others a valuable employee (job creation!), so it's not pure altrusim. And yes, they are paying him -- he's working for his! Still, though, if you want me to feel like the world is a better, kinder place for this, well, it takes more than a one-off stunt. Making dreams come true isn't the same thing as affecting change, obviously, but at least we can ask for action that falls somewhere in between the two. It's the only remotely sane, responsible thing to do in this day and age.

And, while all this is great for Williams, there's something too Hollywood about this that seems a little unfair. He's not the only homeless dude with marketable skills, or a hard luck story that at one point, showed real promise. Especially -- not to sound like a broken record -- in this economic climate, in places (like Ohio) where jobs and homes can no longer be taken for granted. I guess now everyone can dream of being discovered by viral video, or stake all their future hopes on the Internet. Except then, don't we just have the homeless version of inner city kids trying to make the NBA? This isn't proof that America still makes it happen -- it's yet another gross distortion of the American Dream (whatever that is), pushed to such a clown-ish extreme that it replaces the social safety net with a fucking game show.

I'm also not entirely convinced that this kind of instant-fix is a recipe for lasting stability. Recovery and the transition back into polite society isn't like flipping a switch. Not saying we should punish anyone, but again, everybody knows that overnight success is rarely the foundation for a strong and constant future. Finally, never underestimate Dan Gilbert. He roused a lynch-mob against LeBron to keep the Cavs brand in the headlines and remotely relevant; when that inconvenient team got in the way, he had to pivot, and become a saint. Who knows what's next? It's not like they have anything to lose as an organization.

Speaking of all this, THE SUNS FIRED CONNIE HAWKINS, CURRENTLY FIGHTING CANCER, FROM HIS LARGELY CEREMONIAL POSITION CANCER. Apparently he didn't show up at the office enough. Fuck that team, once and forever. I invite someone to give me a good reason to retract that.

You should read this Go Yago! dude. He writes regularly and is keeping the flame alive.

FD Power Rankings Week 1

The latest Outside the NBA/FD joint venture.

I can't promise we'll keep these up regularly, or that they will even change that much. But it seemed like an idea whose time had come, so Eric and I spent about twenty minutes putting this list together, straight from the gut. Leave your suggestions in the comments section!

1. Monta Ellis: Longtime FD favorite makes good, and how. All it took was Nellie's retirement for Monta to trust his teammates, play nice with Steph Curry, and mature into one of the league's prime offensive weapons without sacrificing a bit of his life force. If anything, grown-ass Monta -- in the preseason, he blamed his new outlook on marriage -- is a more sublime figure than before. His crossover is nearly effortless; the writhing drives and hopped-up floaters now look anything but forced. This is style, and other than Blake Griffin, there's no player in the NBA right now as regularly rewarding to watch. That it feels like it could end any day only makes the whole thing more beautiful.

2. Blake Griffin: At this point, the only surprise from Griffin is that he continues to amaze more and more every game. His all-out attack philosophy would grow stale if not for the fact that he plays with an insatiable need to devour the oppposition. If he doesn't sit at the top of this list, it's only because you know about him already.

3. Hating the Cavs: A few months ago, the Cavs were the world's most pitiable losers, shamed by their former star and ready to face the new season with moral superiority. But the actions of Dan Gilbert and his roving band of immature sign-carrying fans have turned the entire franchise into a group of sore losers who think anger alone can bring others to their side. They're the NBA's version of the Tea Party crowd, just with slightly fewer guns.

4. Timberwolves: As one Minny broadcaster put it, "we may not always be happy with the outcome, but the fans love to watch this team and they sure do give you a lot to get excited about." Kevin Love is simply phenomenal, and early returns suggest that Al Jefferson really did need to go. Michael Beasley can't quite flex his muscle like he did at K-State, but he's quicker and probably in better shape. Darko is a legit presence in the middle. Corey Brewer is really long. Wesley Johnson is a nice guy's J.R. Smith. If they're not getting blown out, the Wolves are definitely a team that will force a shoot-out and make you love every minute of it.

5. Black Swan: Darren Aronofsky's latest deals largely with an old FD standby -- the struggle between cool professionalism and messy romanticism -- but its best virtue is the director's ability to forget about what's respectable and engage in the kind of risky mindfuckery that's missing from too much art-house fare. The last 45 minutes of this movie piles craziness on top of craziness -- it will leave you either in a state of shock or cackling in a mixture of delight and terror.

6. Raymond Felton: Any son of UNC is a friend of this blog, but Felton -- who looked so good at Carolina, and was very briefly lumped in with Chris Paul and Deron Williams -- had the added burden of real promise. The Knicks looked sensible when they signed him over the summer; if Chris Duhon could put up numbers in D'Antoni's system, then certainly Felton could manage something. But little did we realize that, one month into the season, Felton might turn out to be the steal of the summer. His numbers are top-flight, and every game we watch him, he looks more and more in synch with Amar'e and Gallo. To wit: Stoudemire's own explosive week, which suggests that the "can he live without Nash?" question just might be moot.

7. Manu Ginobili: The Spurs have never been much of an NBA favorite, yet they have become a commendable lot in their increasingly successful dotage. With Duncan near the end of the line, Ginobili has become their on-court leader, molding the team's system in his eccentric image while maintaining the club's impressive attention to detail and regal air.

8. Larry Sanders: He has arrived. Well, actually, he's getting minutes because Gooden is dinged up. But Sanders is pretty much as advertised -- a shot-blocking demon who can pressure the ball and make athletic plays on offense. When Jennings tossed him a prime alley-oop against Miami, it was like watching a dating show where everything goes right and everyone ends up happy forever. Bonus point for the totally FD tandem he and Ersan Ilyasova make for.

9. Chris Paul is too nice to blame: No matter what happens with the Hornets, and what part Paul's plans (or lack thereof) play in the outcome, there's no way dude takes a LeBron-like hit. He's too good a guy, and has done too much for the city. Plus, he was a refugee from Katrina, too, exiled to OKC for two seasons and never once flinching in his commitment to return. It's simply unreasonable to expect him to agree to stick around just to make the franchise more sale-able -- and thus more likely to remain in New Orleans.

10. Shoals loves Derrick Rose, pass it on: Russell Westbrook is a monster. Yes, like the song. Unlike Monta, who streamlined his act, Westbrook somehow got even more unpredictable and incendiary -- and popped out on the other side a bonafide All-Star. Anecdotally, or spiritually, he turns the ball over at least 400 times a game, and still makes a play almost every time he decides he wants to. What prompted this transformation? He spent all summer working out with Derrick Rose, and in Istanbul, competed against him in practice. Now, their destinies are inextricably linked. Rose helped make Westbrook what he is this seasons, and vice-versa; they learned from each other, and on this very rock they started a mutant point guard tradition that may be carried on for decades. So yeah, I like Derrick Rose now. Sorry for the inconvenience.

Can't Find No Comfort, Don't Need No Relief

Some great talk in the comments about the contrast between the steeped-in-history Celtics-Lakers (at least as the league's trying to construct it) and the looming LeBron-lead master plan from without (within? no idea.) I know, the history thing isn't working so well with this year's teams, and James himself isn't explicitly leading the charge. But it's hard not to notice: on the one hand, we have the past glomming onto the now in ways reactionary and haunting (role of the Simmons book?). And on the other, the future that, even if you're cool with it, still stands to put players on top and give them their choice of colors.

Is it too much to suggest that the NBA/ESPN/ABC are in fact trying to push back against whatever radicalism comes to pass this summer? They have spent so long trying to get out from under Jordan's shadow, and now a new crop of stars seemed poised to do so. Except then they went and decided to undermine the very notion of tradition-through-sublimation. It had been coming for some time, post-Jordan, and been the popular fear, post-Jordan. Here's the thing, though: Jordan didn't do it, and no one else before the Class of 2003-based crew had the relevance to make it happen. They seemed headed in the right direction, whatever that means, and now they've really gone and realized exactly what the league always feared Allen Iverson would spread. It's apt, if accidental, that we're being treated to LeBron James's all-out blitz during the Finals. These Finals, and that players, of all things.

Let's face it, James doesn't need history like Kobe Bryant does. Kobe sits with film, and has become—in his age and relative wholesomeness—a reliable lodestar for old-meets-new. I've joked that LeBron should hire Kobe for reasons of growth. The difference between them, though, continues to grow this summer. Bryant is not only visibly older, he's also more readily absorbed now into not the post-Jordan morass, but a broader picture of How They Played the Game. His Nike ad involves siphoning in images from the last twenty years, including past campaigns that weren't about him (in the sense that Kobe is a single historical fact), plus a collapsing of Andre 3000/The Beatles that suggests not just cross-generational dialogue, but the importance of rejecting that rift. James, thought, reveals in his Larry King interview that he's a Jordan guy, which makes no sense considering his body and skills. However, while others have sought to imitate MJ (including Young Kobe), James simply adopts him in spirit, as the world-shatterer he entered the league as. This is the end of history.

In 2008, Lakers-Celtics screamed "bring the past back", except there was one kink. Both of those squads had been assembled that season. The Celtics invented the template for mercenary action that will be referenced many times this summer; the Lakers saw Andrew Bynum come into his own, then falter, and then soared only because of Pau Gasol's arrival—still incomplete at the time of the Finals. Maybe these two fit the Lakers-Celtics stereotypes well, in some rudimentary sense. However, this wasn't embracing the possibility of history, of an unbroken link to the past. That was all equivocation. Really, 2008 set the stage for what's coming after the Finals wind down. The Celtics now much more resemble a classic, categorized unit of the Russell years, maybe Bird's time if you think Paul Pierce is that ace. Lakers flow and spire, even as Ron Artest remains so key to altering the complexion of all that happens on the court without even making a sound (I'll say it again: NEW BATTIER).



James is not as crass as, say, so-and-so jumping teams for cash in the nineties. There are sound business reasons to work the mini-max, the Super Summit, and the shadowy plan to customize his destination as much as makes sense. This isn't pure self-interest. While it affects a limited number of players, this is somewhat earth-shaking, changing the way that not only the team and individual sync up when it comes to loyalty and such, but also the very question of who owns who. Who is accountable. Earning the right to a star, as opposed to simply danging cash in front of his face and expecting him to jump, alone, on to the next one. But—and here's the problematic one—history in sports has always been the history of institutions, or at least individuals against the backdrop of institutions (i.e. franchises). After Jordan, we worried it might devolve into Mad Max. Instead, though, we've gotten something more rational and, if done with tact, hard to argue with. In James, we have a player who has positioned himself against all history.

That raises another odd detail of this series. As I highlighted in an earlier post, and was also raised in the comments, Rajon Rondo aggressively rejects the past. He claims to have sprung, fully-formed, from some combination of other sports and Rondo's natural aptitude. Hence, an idiosyncrasy wholly distinct from LeBron's all-consuming template. Except, oddly, he's the one on this throwback Celtics. Would have made more sense if he'd been dominant in 2008, as opposed to playing a role. The recurring theory is that he's Cousy reborn, but even Cousy was referencing other styles. Rondo might be lying through his teeth or at least bending those teeth a little. Though doesn't seem self-conscious like that. Regardless, look at his game ... does this strike you as a man useful to anyone's agenda?

It all comes down to intention, and who struck first. LeBron as jerk, I cannot abide. LeBron as smasher of worlds, I have to acknowledge. If the twain meet, I'm not so pompous as to deny #1 if #2 does end up shaping the future—with results, and regardless of whether or not the past is ignore and the present defiled. For now, the past is pushing back hard. Whether this is a deliberate strategy, or just dope scripting, I have no idea. I can say, though, that is makes the present wild, incoherent, fresh, stressful, and subject to hourly reports. And that's ignoring the fact that there's an actual NBA Finals going on.

Yoru Brain Gets Warm

In case you missed it, this Kobe-on-the-greats segment was amazing. Not just NBA amazing, like exactly what I personally want to see from Bryant.

Also, it has made me completely change course on LeBron James. Or at least lose patience with him. For the moment, I can't stand him and think he is on the path to hell. HERE IT ALL IS.

Finally, I have a message from myself. I am sorry there's not so much writing on here lately. I know some of you are loathe to venture on FanHouse. But dudes, I am doing almost exactly the same thing, minus the silly pictures and nonsense titles. I can email those to you if you want. If you only want to read me, here's my author page, along with feed. Seriously though, anyone complaining that FD has dried up should at least read the daily thousand word posts I'm writing for my paying job.

Your friend,

VILE LEGS

Calm as Flies

There, that's Corey Maggette sparring with some dude. Really puts everything in perspective.

Speaking of a lack of perspective, check out the new FD Presents the Disciples of Clyde Podcast, where I have a nervous collapse over the idea that sports are nothing but a marketplace for enacted cliches and mankind's limitations.

Or what about this amazing piece I wrote over at FanHouse on coping with these crazy times we've entered?

A point I want to make: Garnett looks damn good. Better even than when they won in 2008. I like watching him again, even if he's still pissing me off. Along those same perplexing lines: his comment about loyalty wasting your youth was at once the most KG thing he's said in forever, and a slap in the face of what we construed him to be back in Minny. Which would make it somehow the most and least KG thing out of his mouth in years, or maybe suggest alternate KGs that must battle to the death to decide which one gets remembered. This certainly suggests they cannot co-exist.

Check out Joey on LBJ. He definitely has a sense of perspective about this, one far more useful than that provided by watching Maggette throw weak punches.

Reading Is Elsewhere

You will like this post I did on LeBron, I promise. Even though it's not on this website.

Invites for Frost

I don't like what I'm hearing. Not from LeBron, who has boldly asserted that he could win the scoring title every year, but from the rest of us. No, it's not the case that any other player could top LeBron if both gunned all-out, Gervin/Thompson-style, each day of the night. You know why? Because unlike Durant or Melo, James has way more at his disposal. He could work the post, or just run up the court and through all defenders on every possession. Yes, it was a matter-of-fact statement, calm and hardly with the lurch of a braggart. At the same time, LeBron is differentiating himself from his peers. Hey, everybody, he has untapped potential still. He knows it, and if he totally broke out of a team system to go for numbers—which, incidentally, he is less likely to do than anyone on this short-list—amazing thing would happen. We used to know it, and now he's slipping it in himself. Going after him for it seems a waste of time, but at the same time, there is something chilling about this off-hand press release. Forget at your own peril.

I am about to say two things involving NBC's Pro Basketball Talk, both of which involve folks I consider e-pals. So no one think this is a mix-tape war. Kurt lead the "is this news?" charge on the LeBron front; to him, I say yes and no. In what order, I'm not sure. No, in that we should knew, but yes, in that he reminds us? Or yes, in that it he reminds us (and himself) what's still buried inside him, and no, after that it's a no-brainer. Let's move on. Krolik, whom some of you may remember from his contributions to this site, took poor Monta Ellis to task the same day for calling himself the third-best player in the league. First, I would like to thank John for bringing to my attention Rolling Stone's embrace of Durant. Of course, it all makes sense—KD, and the Thunder in general, are the most indie rock-friendly team in the league. They even took that from the Sonics' storied past. El ouch. As for the meat of the story, look, shouldn't Ellis be ignored even more forcefully than James? Let him have his fun. If you think he's the problem with the Warriors, you must have an undue amount of faith in the D-League.

Ellis isn't perfect, and his career is at loggerheads. But if an obviously talented, frustrated, and aimless still-young guard on a team built out of nonsense brags to a generally indifferent media, is he really going to war? Not to neglect my role as a member of the media, but come on, let's give Ellis a break. At least until we're all convinced that he's being given a chance to screw up convincingly. Neither his non "right way" play (either caps or quotations all the time, I thought), nor his inflated ego are tethered to reality. I don't know, maybe I'm underestimating all these call-ups. But this is a man floating through trauma. Do we really want to hold him accountable in the same way—even less so, maybe—than the game's best player? Ellis may deserve more grief than James, and is certainly empirically wrong in a slew of ways, but it's only LeBron James whose words have any meaning past the narrow context of "punk spews crap" headline.

Oh, and Amare hates T-Mac. Pass it on.

Burn Away All But Yourself

While finishing up some stuff for the forthcoming blockbuster, FreeDarko Presents: The Incalculable Basketball Tale of Blue Wiggins and His Jittery Groves, I had a magical romance with the following sentence: "And Moses turned, and went down from the mount, and the two tables of the testimony were in his hand: the tables were written on both their sides; on the one side and on the other were they written". Say what? That's Exodus, if you couldn't tell, according to the mysterious ways of prose that govern the King James translation of the Bible.

I think I heard a "King James." Where's my puppets? Ha. Gotcha. We all know why LeBron has been stuck with the nickname "King James"—duh, it's his last name, and he's a king among men. Also, it's like "The Chosen One" (which somehow belongs to way too many lesser players, too), but isn't blasphemy or quite so arrogant. As in, it pertain to magical events in the time of the forefathers, and their forefathers' forefathers, and Jesus. Except King James isn't in the Bible, or of the Bible: He's dude who oversaw the translation so that it might be accessible to oh so many commoners. He didn't even do the actual work himself!

LeBron, in a glib attempt to make himself sound awesome while still mining some small strip of divinity, has ended up identifying with an administrator. To be fair, the original King James did do something; he may not have spearheaded the project of translation, but he helped dictated the guidelines that produced the definitive, and crappy-sounding, version we lived with for so many years. You can read about the fine details of it over at Wikipedia. What I learned: The Puritans had some problems with the Great Bible and Bishop's Bible, and James "gave the translators instructions intended to guarantee that the new version would conform to the ecclesiology and reflect the episcopal structure of the Church of England and its beliefs about an ordained clergy." Worse than a feckless administrator, or empty figurehead-ed name—King James was a bureaucrat!

Let me reiterate: I do not think for one second that LeBron or his handlers researched this nickname thoroughly. It's Biblical. It goes with James. Hell, yours truly employs it all the time. It just sounds good. Triumph of branding, Nike is evil . . . but more on that later. First, a few of King James's other accomplishments, as they may do a little to prop up—nay, even explain—a moniker that starts to squirm when strapped in the creepy dentist's chair that is Real History, by Real Concerned History Citizens, a white power hate band video show that airs on Animal Planet. Hosted by this guy:



(Fair enough if you say I now sound like Bill Simmon chewing poison beetles, flipping through basic cable, and going to the movies once a week. We all have to change, we all become our parents, we all thereby face our demons and move on to making other people's lives' miserable. While, hopefully, we are lighter and more prosperous for it.)

King James was, in a word, amazing, and not in the Drew Barrymore sense. He got the Bible out to the whole wide world. Yes, the translation bears his name, but there's a reason that's the one we know: Subsequently, it was disseminated like no version before or since. Also, the King James Version made some very good but also, at the moment, supremely over-priced funky gospel LPs in the seventies. But I revert. The real King James was King James I, which I always consider a plus. He didn't dress up with a super hero alias or nom de drag when he took office. Or wait, that's just Popes. Monarchs just have a limited amount of names to choose from to begin with. In any case, Wikipedia again:

"James, the "Golden Age" of Elizabethan literature and drama continued, with writers such as William Shakespeare, John Donne, Ben Jonson, and Sir Francis Bacon contributing to a flourishing literary culture. James himself was a talented scholar, the author of works such as Daemonologie (1597), True Law of Free Monarchies (1598), and Basilikon Doron (1599). Sir Anthony Weldon claimed that James had been termed "the wisest fool in Christendom", an epithet associated with his character ever since."

How awesome is that? This guy really made it happen. But where is the creative agency of his own, or the transformative, that James needs other James to have when we bother to investigate the past? He did bring about major shifts in the way the King and Parliament got along, get embroiled in the 30 Years War, and have troubles with "The Spanish Match" (not a hooker) and "The Gunpowder Plot" (not an attempt to kill him with hazardous snuff). I hereby resolve that all future LeBron James exploits be branded with moments from this great monarch's career. W+K, are you out there? There's more, but I have to get on with my day. Fun fact: The period of his reign is referred to as either the Mirandian or Jacobean Era. Do not confuse the latter with more sinister times. Do, however, learn that "Jacob" is Hebrew for "James," with means I have to change my middle name to restore my birthright.

Still, nothing that really clicks with the commonplace sense of King James. Unless you like KJ1's refusal to break with the notion of divine monarchy. That's kind of the worst case for LeBron, no, or at least a really ugly tautology. You can feel free to repeal this pargraph and get back to eating your breakfast, suckers.

Here's a thought: You know how I always say that LeBron put Cleveland on the map as if it were a real market? Well guess what: We still know nothing about Cleveland, other than that it's the home of LeBron. Watch out, great King James I of England, you too can be adopted thus. Your career matters little, just that you were a king connected to the Bible. LeBron's attempt to, if not erase your accomplishments, then at least reduce them to a few faint themes (well, one), isn't stupid, it's corporate plunder. King James is dead; long live King James. Meet the new King James, same as the old King James, except in the ways that they have nothing in common, but that doesn't matter because the old one has his name on the Bible.

And LeBron will one day deserve his name on the basketball Bible. This type of shit happens every day. Don't worry, though. As demanded by Eric Freeman, George Hill still needs to answer for his "Madness of King George" nickname.



(That photo scares me.)

SOME NOTABLE ADDITIONS: The first King James I took power early, but didn't actually get in charge for some time, which might mean something. Though it's not flattering. Also, a very important man tells me that certain undesirables and numerology "kooks" believe Shakespeare translated the King James Bible. But that still wouldn't make Shakespeare into King James.

Which Mirror Now?

I highly suggest you turn your eyes to this lengthy post by Vince Grzegorek of Cleveland Scene, on the touchy subject of how the fuck a beat writer covers Delonte West. Vince and I had talked about this a few times prior; he felt the team was trying to make like this was a non-issue, and had decided, for political reasons, to pretend this wasn't an incredibly important topic to pursue. But then he changed his mind, got some quotes, and has started the conversation.

To me, the tricky part is that West's is a medical situation that can't be discussed, for fear of aggravating it. It would be like if asking a guy about his back sent shooting pains up and down it. Hopefully, at some point that won't be the case. But then what? Can West ever be asked about his brain, or is that the equivalent of trying to take a photo of a healing knee with a bunch of rocks? And do we attribute anything that goes wrong with him, on or off the court, to some sort of relapse? Over at my other place of employment, some asshole commenter lit into the BREAKING item about Delonte's charges with the typical "millionaires shouldn't complain stupid thug excuses". That's part of why I'd prefer to broach these issues on FD, but at the same time, can we ever blame West again (say, in the airport incident), or assign him typical human responsibility? If not,that would suck for both those out to skewer athletes and for the man himself. Does this mean the media has to giggle nervously whenever West says anything the least bit odd or funny?

Also, off of Vince's piece, there's the question of covering sports vs. covering the person. We saw this already with Kobe's trial. It's hard to tell exactly where the line is between "this guy affects the team" and "this guy has a mess of other stuff going on." I wonder, though, why this is suddenly such a problem, when the press routinely doesn't ask athletes shit about their personal life, and keeps plenty of skeletons in the closet. I think it has to do less with the weapons incident than the fact that, presumably, West's issues enter the exact space at which he interacts with the media. This story is as much about the media, their individual relationships with West, and the awkward position both parties are in, as "how to objectively cover an athlete." The arrests are off-court, and we know how to deal with those; basketball-wise, he's just fine. It's really a matter of everyone learning to trust each other, of finding a comfort zone where learning to read Delonte, and being polite, tactful, or tolerant, eventually leads to him fitting into coverage in a logical way. The same way you walk around a seven-foot guy who's always stretching out his bum knee in the middle of the locker room.

Addendum: When I ran this by Vince, he raised the further point of "the team dealing with someone who they very well probably don't want speaking on the record in front of microphones right now." Which, if you think about it, might explain why West was held out of preseason games.

It'll Find You

I've been trying to figure out why it is that I've got zero to say about Delonte West. Maybe it's because I'm fairly confident that he'll lawyer up hard and be ready for the start of the season. Or because the Michael Beasley saga, in all its opacity and yanking around after answers, ended up covering so much broad "mental illness in sports" territory.

Then I realized: It's because I'm neither amused, shocked, nor saddened by it. West is bipolar; so am I. That doesn't make me unsympathetic to his situation—on the contrary, to me it's almost mundane, the kind of thing you wake up from and shake your head at. Not that I've ever ended up strapped to the teeth on a mini-bike, re-enacting a scene from a shitty movie. But since no one got hurt, and the explanation is obvious, the specifics are neither here nor there. This is what happens when you go off your meds. The legal system knows this, and presumably, Delonte is a little closer to figuring it out.

So if I'm failing to come up with anything penetrating, or start any meaningful discussion, it's because this is so close to home, it's a non-entity. I don't even feel like having a conversation about living with said disorder, because that's not even interesting to me. It's the hand some are dealt. It probably explains why West is such a tremendous personality, and also reduces this incident to a feature-less bump in the road.

Update: Baseline column on West/coverage of Beasley.

O Darkest Night

Below please find some amazing links, and the latest podcast.

-Earlier posts here, on draft fashion psychoanalysis and important details culled from past telecasts.

-My virulent, FD-friendly, reaction to the Shaq trade.

-Joey, after being crucified for his NY-centrism, has decided to change horses and look to the Wolves that could be.

-On the latest FD Presents: The Disciples of Clyde NBA Podcast, Dan, The Recluse, Eric (Ty Keenan), and myself attempt to talk about the draft, and instead spend almost 20 minutes trying to say something about the Bucks. Performance at its finest.



Songs:

Soundgarden - “Outshined”
What Made Milwaukee Famous - “Resistance St.”
Gang Starr - “Just to Get a Rep”
Deerhoof - “Whither the Invisible Birds?”
Man or Astroman? - “Principles Unknown”
Peanut Butter Wolf and Charizma - “Devotion ‘92″

If you want to settle down and make a serious commitment, try iTunes and the XML feed.

We Atone, You Listen

We're traveling light this week on FDPTDOCNBAP, as Dan and myself sit down with the mighty Kevin Pelton to talk about what we got wrong about the playoffs. The ray of hope comes when we stop to marvel at the that great variegated snake we call the Orlando Magic. Then at the end we ponder what could cause the age limit to change, how it's bad for standardized testing and college admissions counselors everywhere. If you enjoy it, be sure and check for the DoC mini-sodes, which strike without warning and address the day's events as they happen.

The Podcast:



Music:

1. "All Wrong" - Morphine
2. "Magic Pig Detective" - Melvins
3. "Shoot Your Shot" - James Brown
4. "Hot Freaks" - Guided by Voices
5. "Old School Rules" - Dangerdoom featuring Talib Kewli

For other means of obtaining this program, try iTunes and the XML feed.

TWO OTHER LINKS:

-Ziller send this Journal Times passaage along, with the subject head "Z RAMIFICATIONS": "The last word goes to Louisville Terrance Williams who, when asked what his natural position was, said: "I think like a point guard, but I have the size like a 3. So I guess I'm a 2.''"

-I fully support this effort to archive and create nicknames that aren't just a celebration of phonetics.

Before I Die and Freeze, Know This All

That's my state of mind now. Or that Russian story I can't remember, where the old couple lives in the snowy cave after the end of the world with nothing but a Scriabin score. Anyone know the name of that one?

If you can't tell, I am still playing catch-up on this season, and might be forever. For one, I haven't spent too much time with the Three Juggernauts, which means until this week I didn't feel confident rattling off bizarre claims about Rondo/KG synergy, or suggesting that Allen's newfound ease is also bringing Boston closer to what I'd imagined last fall. After having spent the entire playoffs defending my right to like the Lakers (not defending the Lakers, mind you), I'm suddenly pretty indifferent to them until they face the Celtics again. Not to get all trad on you, but I actually felt betrayed in those Finals. And while I know LeBron, like Wade, has returned to America with the flame of many nations and their thousand-year histories burning in his breast, it only sunk it last night just how rock-solid that team becomes with a skilled backcourt of Delonte/Williams. Forget my lobbying for Marion—this team has made a leap like Boston, and through sheer sense of purpose could threaten Los Angeles.

All-important sidebar: Big Z has suddenly turned into that Euro big man everyone was trying to draft around 2002. The guy just a hair above Dirk in terms of size, but nearly as much of a shooter, and passes for day. It's funny how much I've come to like him, after years of total indifference. You can expect a similar flip-flop on the Celtics, if it really is Rondo running the show, Ray Allen playing like he used to, and Garnett acting crazy like he's still frustrated and unfulfilled about something. Everyone knows he toned it down last year for the benefit of the year-end DVD. I'll say right here and now that flip-flopping in the face of justification is totally FD. Case in point, Wade this season.

It also dawned on me last week that, during the three weeks I spent on the East Coast doing a good deal of touring/meeting/family stuff, I watched only like one game. And before that, I'd spent most of my viewing time trying to take the pulse of the Warriors (naturally), Beasley, Rose, and all the Grizz. Plus some Blazers, my beloved Hawks, and the Suns when it seemed like Amare was about to take that team over once and for all. But I've missed out on some non-crappy storylines, like the emergence of Devin Harris—I know it happend, but I've scarcely watched him, and really want confirmation that this comes as no surprise to anyone who saw him with Dallas when things were good. Is there that patented qualitative shift, or just an uptick in usage and importance? If he's indeed become a real shooter, and can hit five threes in a game, then I stand corrected, embarrassed, and willing to send him on his new star way. The 30 ppg is unreasonably, but 20+ and some assists sounds right, and even if I maintain he's no true PG, he can pass like crazy, and paired with Carter brings about a surprising redemption of Vince in NJ. He's not soft, he's engaged in a positionally revolutionary project that involves splitting up the responsibilities of the PG and SG.



I also wonder if this, or maybe my over-obvious monitoring of early season youngsters, proves that the league has passed me by. Like when I got this theory together the other day that post-2003 NFL sucks. It just made me sound old. Same way, shouldn't there be other people out there dealing with the chronic condition of TMI we've subjected ourselves to with League Pass. All I've got for this year is Anthony Randolph. And maybe Westbrook. Sorry to get you all down, or suggest that at this point this should be work we all share, but I just haven't had that Julian Wright or Rodney Stuckey moment this season, and Amir has been disappointing, and while I don't feel like it's all been a lie, I wonder if others aren't in a better position to cultivate that fervor. Or curate the exact characteristics of those up-and-coming askew, or askance, or in a way that makes the imagination swell while allowing us to believe with that other side of our brains. You can decide which is right and which is left.

Unrelated, the Birdman is important, almost institutional, now. And I can't stop delighting at how often Hubie employs that nickname. So is J.R. Smith, in a way. They've made flaws and crazy into a kind of accepted role player. Maybe that only works on the Nuggets, but in keeping with the semi-somber tone of this post, it does make me feel like either my work here is done, or the league has changed in ways I need to adjust to. Fucking post-2003 NFL. I can't decide if I'm overjoyed or perplexed that Granger, Harris, and Joe Johnson are up there with Kobe and LeBron in the scoring race. I heart Granger, JJ is FD fam, and Harris, as I've said, I'm almost there with. But are they Kobe and LeBron? This seems to signal some kind of shift, either a slight changing of the guard (fine, fun) or something really disheartening involving platoons.

One serious point that really requires our attention: This whole Boozer situation. I like the Jazz teams of the last few season, and even went so far as to sing Sloan's praises on TSB. But I have to say, it's some serious, subliminal us/country/family/Utah/loyalty bullshit going on with the reaction from Larry Miller and, to a lesser degree, Sloan. Boozer—who admittedly, is an enemy of the blind and tried to get the Jazz to trade him on account of a sick son—simply stated the obvious: That next season, he'd like more money, and maybe to go somewhere where he doesn't have Paul Millsap breathing down his neck. What's not totally obvious about this, especially when he's out with an injury, and Millsap is effectively taking his place? It just strikes me as totally disingenuous to see Miller and Sloan trash Boozer when he's got every reason to try and gain some leverage. And they go and make it into a matter of honor, belonging, and team, which there carries semi-sinister connotations, basically prepping the city to not give a fuck about losing Boozer, and add another plume of ignominy in the guy's cap.



I had a bunch more invective typed, but let's leave it at this: Boozer, out and marginalized, is frank about his situation, and as an All-Star, matters enough to have that right. Especially when it's no surprise, and only radically affects the Jazz's ability to keep him and Millsap. Instead, though, it's spun as an outrage, to such a degree that I can't imagine Boozer wants to come back there now. And that's probably just the effect Miller's going for.

Friends are Disappointing

Read Shoals' post below.

His ultimately nihilistic characterization of Cavs/Celtics almost precludes me from writing anything on the matter. This is in addition to the fact that I realize I am taking the Celtics extremely personally this year, for reasons I'm not sure are really that interesting. I mean, one obvious issue is the inner turmoil that any Minnesota sports fan feels over watching Garnett climb the mountain. There's plenty of time to discuss this lingering concern, but let me speak to the broader, non-Minnesotan viewing public for a second: Did the Celtics make formerly likeable players permissible to hate on?

Rondo and Perkins went from Destiny's children to looking like spoiled braggarts.

P.J. Brown, STILL my favorite player and probably the most stand-up guy in the league, looks like half a ring-chaser. He could have signed with the Hornets and brought the circle of life to New Orleans.

Sam Cassell has gone from the guy who gave up millions dollars left on his contract with the Clips to get one more ring, to playoff ballhog.



Ray Allen and his Mesozoic period ankles are struggling. He scored four points yesterday and can't guard anybody. Simmons and other Boston diehards have essentially bailed on him. Whereas on the Sonics or Bucks, he was Obama with a jumpshot, on Boston he has become the object of scorn and would have taken a heaping unend of blame had the Celtics lost this series. The guy who will hit any free throw you need at any time, the guy who had more impact than Paul Pierce, Doc Rivers, Kevin McHale, or phony executive of the year Danny Ainge, in getting KG to Boston, is now a scapegoat. Can you imagine the wheelbarrows of manure dumped on Ray-Ray had the Celtics not won last night?

And of course, there's also KG. On the Timberwolves, he was a beating heart who bled tears. Just as often called out for being the Anti-Clutch as he was pitied for his playoff failures, because of how much he loves to win, and Kevin McHale, and lack of a supporting cast, lack of a good coach, Latrell Sprewell, Sam Cassell, the Joe Smith deal, and on and on and on. In New England, there is nowhere to hide from the Eastern Sports Programming Network, the tradition-rich dynasty that follows the Celtics like a ghost, and the maj0r-market-ness of Boston as a sports town, and that anti-clutch stuff is getting bigger pub than anything before. All of KG's old faults (shies away from contact, not enough free throws, fades at the end of games, takes too many jumpers, passes too much, too wound up under pressure) are coming to light, and in the worst way.



But let's take one more second to figure out what "clutch" even means.

I wish someone would define the goddamn term before tossing it around in a frivolous manner similar to "THE DOMINIQUE-BIRD GAME" (wait, is Joe Johnson Dominique, or is it LeBron, or is it Josh Childress?) and "THE BIG THREE" and god save us if it's Boston/Lakers in the finals (BASKETBALL IS NOT THE 1980s). As far as "definitively clutch," the players that come to mind are Robert Horry, Michael Jordan, Larry Bird, and Reggie Miller. Players on the cusp are: Kobe Bryant, Sam Cassell, and Chauncey Billups. Bibby would have made the top-of-the-dome list if not for this year. But after that, the term "clutch" gets tossed around extremely carelessly, with players then being forced into the ridiculousness redefining their legacy from game-to-game (see, LeBron in game 1 vs. game 7).

Remember what happened before Derek Fisher hit his famous 0.4 second shot?



Look, I think that the shot by Duncan is probably one of the top 5 plays I've seen in my lifetime, with Fisher as number 1. Now if Fisher MISSES his shot, Duncan probably becomes known as the most clutch player of all time (especially when adding to his resume his game 1 performance against Phoenix this year). But this is despite the fact that Duncan HAS shown some post-season wobbliness in recent postseasons (Game 7 vs. the Pistons in the 06 finals, when he shot a terrible percentage and everyone gave him credit even though Manu and TP won the whole damn series for them), not to mention the fact his clunkers in the early games vs. the Hornets this series. Tonight is going to define nothing for Duncan in reality, yet whatever his performance is will--at least for the next two weeks--significantly impact his legacy.

Ok, so this has been one long ramble, when I've meant to talk about KG. Garnett hits two late short jumpers, but also clanks two potential game-CLINCHERS and PJ Brown eternally saves Garnett's entire career yesterday. Is KG un-clutch? Is he clutch because of what he did vs. the Kings in 2004. The answer is neither, and I'm sick of having to listen to proclamations about legacy, when history has not yet fully had its say.

Allegory Gets Us Hot: Times New Viking Talks Hoops, Ohio

When the Cavs made their big trade last week, we knew there was only one man to turn to for analysis: Adam Elliot, former varsity basketball player and drummer/vocalist of Ohio lo-fi/noise-pop/shitgaze heroes Times New Viking. Even if most of the interview took place before the trade ever happened and he was in Canada at the time.

FreeDarko: You mentioned [in an email] that Lebron is "the savior of pro sports/America." Is your love for Lebron based more in Ohio pride or just a general admiration for his basketball abilities?

Times New Viking: First, it is great to have a living legend play for your pro team. Lebron is a savior for Ohio in many ways. He is young, he is forward thinking, and he can take over shit. Did you see the Eastern Conference finals last year? Un-fucking-believable.

FD: How do you feel about Lebron's eagerness to turn himself into a multinational corporation?

TNV: Why not? Our band just turned down some contract because it didn't make sense for us. But why wouldn't what Lebron agrees to make sense for a young basketball megastar?

FD: Are you worried that Lebron's going to leave Ohio for New York?

TNV: Fuck no. Cleveland will get that point guard in the next couple of years.

FD: What do you think about the big trade? Is Delonte West that point guard? Do Ben Wallace and Big Z make sense as a frontcourt?

TNV: We are currently in Montreal so all it is is hockey. Been trying to figure out the exact trade in French. But fucking Ben Wallace is the shit. One of my all time faves for the NBA. The Cavs are a force.

FD: Would Times New Viking ever consider leaving Ohio for New York?

TNV: Fuck no.

FD: Are you guys into Ohio State hoops at all? Were you excited by the Greg Oden Era, or was it too fleeting to really make an impact?

TNV: I am an Indiana Hoosier fan at heart. But Oden and Conley were something to watch. Conley/Oden are also the future of the sport. Conley simply does not make mistakes, and Oden is effective in so many ways.

FD: Are you sports fans in general, or just basketball? If the latter, what is the reason for basketball's unique appeal?

TNV: I love sports. I love paying attention. For me though, basketball is first, baseball second. I grew up on Hoosiers/Reds. I always wanted to be a basketball coach that got to play in a Creedence cover band on the side when I was in middle school. As far as basketball, Tark, Coach K, Bobby Knight, they all made me feel a sense of tradition that has been lost on most of my generation.

FD: Do you run across many other people in bands who are into basketball? Any surprises?

TNV: Sometimes. I know Hart from The Hunches almost cried when I knew about the mid 90's Blue Devils.

FD: That's the second time you've mentioned Duke or Coach K. You're not a Duke fan, are you?

TNV: Fuck Duke. Hate them. I am a Hoosier/Bobby Knight fan growing up. Or University of Dayton. Western Kentucky. Any of these over Duke. Even Vanderbilt.

FD: What is your take on the NME "shitgaze" article? Do you feel an affinity with the other bands mentioned? Are you afraid the notorious British music press is going to hype you up like the Strokes or whoever?

TNV: All of those bands are our best friends and friends of friends. If they hype us, so what? We will show up just like Lebron did in the Finals. If we lose four in a row, at least we got there.

FD: In the early 90's, people were always talking about how "post-modern" Pavement was and how they were "deconstructing" pop music by ripping off The Fall or Buddy Holly. By referencing Pavement, the Clean, and the Fall on your MySpace and naming your newest album "Rip It Off," you're opening yourselves up to the same kind of criticism. Are you just playing with these ideas, or is there more serious commentary behind it?

TNV: Not so serious. We take plagiarism serious. We take postmodernism serious, but we don't take ourselves serious. Comments are simply that, not statements.

FD: Have you ever talked sports with Gerard Cosloy? Do you read his blog?

TNV: I have talked baseball with him, and sports. But he is a Mets fan. No comment.

FD: Do you know if the guys in the Clean are Sean Marks fans?

TNV: Not sure, I know they dig sport.

FD: I read on Wikipedia that during a Lollapalooza, Guided by Voices beat the Beastie Boys and Billy Corgan in basketball. Have you ever seen Bob Pollard play? Do you think Times New Viking could take GBV in their prime in 3-on-3?

TNV: I suppose. If we could get Ron House from the Slave Apts., definitely. Jared and I are both lefties and play a mean 2 on 2 match. Pollard's brother played my father. That is pretty fucking old school.

FD: Bethelem Shoals, FreeDarko's most prolific writer, once wrote that the guys who write for our site were "born under the dueling style signs of hip-hop and indie rock." Are any of you into hip-hop at all? I'm specifically wondering about the Scribble Jam scene, which seems to have attracted a large number of arty Midwesterners.

TNV: Luckily I work hip hop night in Columbus. Good fucking deejays. We are into hip hop being observational, fucking real life. But in many ways, I don't get underground hip hop so much. Talking shit about people not being positive isn't exactly positive either, but in Columbus this doesn't happen. Hip hop kids/punk rock kids all get together and deal with how boring our town is. No pretension.