I Knew I Was in Danger

We were once lucky enough to feature some images from bobarke/champions. He has returned, and we are all the better for it. Also check out the year-end edition of FD/DoC, with special guest star Eric Freeman.

The Fourth Man

In the next paragraph, there will be much humiliating disclosure and rehashing of matters no one's interested in rehashing. As everyone who has followed these pages faithfully, through riches and through death, knows, I have never been a Celtics fan.

I can now hold my head high and admit that, had I really done my homework on the Russell teams at that point, my stance might have been somewhat mitigated. My dislike for the city of Boston, where I've spent time, has something to do with it, but really has no place in the discussion—a team is not its fans, and the sixties Celts knew this. Much of the "Celtic Pride" that galls me so starts with the Cowens teams; it's somewhat perfunctory on my part, and I've always been quick to defend the genius of Larry Bird.

Yet when Garnett and Allen joined forces with Pierce in Boston, I was skeptical, in large part because of my feelings for the franchise. I also wasn't into the purely mercenary nature of this alliance, though now it seems like a foretelling of the league's player-power future rather than a new low in ring-chasing. That was in part because the legend of KG in Minny had taken on such amplitude (one that, on Thursday, Garnett himself has said he regretted), but also because of my questions over how this could ever feel natural, as opposed to manufactured. Again, I am a Romantic clinging to an era that about to die forever.



It might also have had quite a bit to do with the fact that KG was always one of my favorites, Ray Ray, too. Pierce, I somehow grew to dislike over the years, and there was the small matter of FD sun-god Rajon Rondo lurking in the mix. Briefly, I thought that maybe they would all work together in a way that made the most of their former selves, but instead, sublimation was the name of the game—in terms of both style and personality—and it worked like a charm.

Factor in the team's tough guy-posturing, the stupid Lakers-Celtics binary that forced me to spend weeks explaining why the Lakers had value, and how much I hated myself for not feeling good Garnett got his title, and I came to resent this team. Mightily. Really mature, I know.

As we all know, though, the dynamic has shifted in Beantown over the last two seasons. The ascendancy of Rondo has now put him front and center, with the three vets essentially backing him up (maybe "providing the foundation" makes more sense, except Paul Pierce should never be equated with stability). It started when a KG-less team, with Rondo doing it all, made a respectable playoff run. This season was a learning process; they started out crazy, but Rondo receded. Then injuries hit hard, and Rondo failed to, as they say, step up and carry the team. Now everyone's back and healthy, Rondo's the strongest player, and all is right in the Land of the Green. A Suns-Celtics Finals would essentially be a battle of momentum, if not luck.

In 2008, I had to watch Allen being used ineffectively, and Garnett eschew much of his multi-facetedness in favor of defensive ... enthusiasm? Pierce, whose team it somehow remained, had gone from endearingly awkward to just plain awkward, and somehow gotten even cockier in the process. Rondo was the respectful understudy, or maybe the caddy who advises on putts. Right now, in 2010, the question isn't whether Rondo is one of the league's elite point guards, but whether anyone feels like calling him better than Paul or Williams. Garnett looks healthier, more kinetic, than at any time since he got to Boston, and maybe it's me, but Rondo's progress allows him to more seamlessly fit into an offensive flow. He is right now the veteran version of the long, leaping high school prospect he first entered the league as.

Pierce has his nights, but it's no longer "his team." And, most importantly, Ray Allen is positively tearing it up, also looking better than at any point since he left Seattle in a trade. Allen needs the ball in his hands some, isn't constantly in motion off of screens, and doesn't excel as a stop-and-pop guy in games. A weird combination of strengths and limitations that I often get tripped up trying to describe, and explains some of the ups and downs he's experienced in Boston. If Garnett was trying to prove a point, Allen often simply seemed thwarted, flustered.



In these playoffs, though, Allen is back, even closer to his pre-Celts self than Garnett (who has, in truth, undergone a metamorphosis). It's then that I realize what an innocent bystander he's been in my dislike of this team. You can't really level the "what became of you" accusations against him like your Garnett (if you've got a stomach for that), since Allen has been, in some sense, the forgotten star. In some ways, both KG and Pierce lend themselves to situational play better than Allen. Garnett's found a niche, and Pierce is there to create if he can. Allen should be in the game forever, bouncing around and getting his shot off. He's LIKE A FINE FUCKING WINE, in that he's always already been kind of old, or waiting to age, and now is simply loping along on that continuum. Or maybe he's gracefully inverted it. I'm not sure.

So officially, this Celtics team—with Rondo in charge, Garnett reinventing himself without too many ugly rough edges (yes, I recall round one), Ray Allen set free, and even Tony Allen getting to do his thing—has my vote. Can I say I'd pull for them over the Suns or Lakers? Probably not. However, the hatred is gone. Not only for the team, but for the players on its. I don't feel anymore like we've lost them forever. Big fucking deal, you say. Well, it is to me. Things are starting to feel whole again.

The Republican Ray Allen

On Monday, when Shoals reported that Ray Allen was advising LeBron to "be more political", I was reminded of an important issue I've long been meaning to raise: the organized, subterranean whisper campaign regarding Ray Allen's own political leanings—specifically, the notion that Allen is actually a Republican. But before I do that, let me first provide some context.

A few weeks back, I was reading an article about neoclassical economists and the clubiness and group-think that has long prevailed among segments of the profession. I was curious whether this thesis could be tested using Facebook, where one can actually observe the density of a given social network. Anyway, as I was browsing through the various pages, a peculiar pattern began to emerge: in addition to all being friends with each other, many conservative economists are also friends with Ray Allen, or at least some Facebook version of Ray Allen. Thus, I found myself looking at several profiles like this one, from the CATO Insitute's Arnold Kling...



. . . a conservative economist, pallin' around with 5 other conservative economists, along with a Fox News personality, a crazy Iron & Wine impersonator who says we can live forever, and . . . yes, Ray Allen. Similarly, many of the conservative economists pictured here are also friends with the Allen, including former Bush advisor/Harvard Prof. Greg Mankiw and those dudes who write for marginal revolution. (Ray Allen is also friends with Nouriel Roubini, also an economist, but one who's politics are more opaque).

At first, I thought it was that the economists were befriending Ray—that it was a common interest on their behalf that explained the pattern of interconnection. Certainly, one can imagine elements of Allen's game (the commitment to fundamentals; a bias towards efficiency; Boston) that might appeal to the more conservative/academic economist fan. But with a little more digging, it soon became clear that the roles were actually reversed. Indeed, the only mention I managed to find of Ray Allen's Facebook page comes from the blog of (yet another!) conservative economist, in a year-old post titled "Did Ray Allen Just friend me on Facebook?". To wit:

A Ray Allen friended me so I friended him back. I checked out his profile and he pretends to be *the* Ray Allen, you know the shooting guard on the Boston Celtics, photo, green jersey and all. He friended me and the Cato Institute, so far no one else. Oddly I've read somewhere that the real Ray Allen is in fact a libertarian and also quite intellectual. What are the odds that this is *the* Ray Allen?

Yes, what odds indeed.

Looking at the actual Facebook page, it's clear that a Republican Ray Allen does exist, though perhaps independently of the real one. In an otherwise-accurate biography, this Ray Allen lists his political affiliation as Republican, belongs to some kind of Milton Friedman fan club, and even shows love for John McCain:



Of course, there is always the small probability that the Republican Ray Allen is in fact the Real Ray Allen; certainly, most of his 2700 friends think he is. Yet from everything we know about the man, it seems awfully unlikely. And even if it were true, I'd still refuse to believe it.

That leaves us with just one final question, which is perhaps the most discomforting of all: namely, who is the man or men behind this Republican Ray Allen, and what is the aim of their deception? I mean, granted, I'm young enough to understand that there are a variety of purposes to which network technologies are deployed, be it the struggle against Bovine Growth Hormone, or getting Larry Summers fired. Still, I remained bewildered by what the goal might be of creating a Republican Ray Allen. What is this monster trying to accomplish? Does he just want to provoke a conversation about the issue. And if so, what's the issue? That Ray Allen might be a Republican?

Either way, the results are clearly mixed. On the one hand, the Republican Ray Allen has 2700 friends and climbing, and none of these has thus far questioned his authenticity. Nor have they inquired into his unlikely politics. Lots of "Great Game, Ray" and well-wishing for the playoffs, but not even the slightest curiosity when it comes to the (yes) elephant in the room. And perhaps this is the morale of the entire endeavor: proving that even if Ray Allen were a Republican, no one would really care.

AT LAST

Feels like I've been waiting all of FD's life for this to turn up.

Proceed below for some Quentin Richardson projection.

UPDATE: Holy crap. Via Zillz, Gerald Wallace with some choice quotes on his future in Charlotte, and the devil that's taken over there:

"My agent called me and he had talked to (GM) Rod (Higgins) and those guys ..." Wallace said. "I said, 'Well, I'm in Alabama with my kids. Call me if I've got to move.' That was it."

"He's trying to break me out of the one-man defensive thing," Wallace said. "He wants all five guys to play defense. ... If you go for those steals and miss and the way you're going to leave your teammates hanging."

Of course, I've edited out the parts where Brown suggests that Wallace is his kind of player, because I'd never believe anything that snake says for a second. And hearing that Wallace is being asked to stop being a "one-man defensive thing" positively sinks my ship.

"FREE DARKO" was stupid, "FREE AMIR" only a matter of time. But at this point in his career, "FREE GERALD" would be as big a downer as I can imagine.

On the Hunt for Super Pasture

First, apologies to the commenter who resents our lack of proofreading and goofy "ebonics." Do the former yourself, ignore the latter because it's a bad joke that happens every 1000th word. Unless this is a passive aggressive way of pining for Billups.

I can't say I hate that game, but it wasn't much fun. I've exhausted all of my wellsprings of far-reaching, Celtics church hatred, and now it's down to this: This team plays hellish defense, no doubt the product of a certain JVG protege whom everyone admires.

They score just enough to elide their absence of a smooth-clicking offense, which is exactly the brute opposite of what I'd hoped this team would do. I'm totally done wrestling with KG, Pierce is just doing his thing and clunking toward local immortality, which is just. I don't want Ray Allen to come out of this labeled a bitch, which he won't.

Rondo remains so high on my personal rankings it's not even cheeky, though I wish I could see his philosophy of basketball expanded a little. Now, it seems like so many little crazed inklings that are immediately stuffed into a safety valve.



Last night's game just left me kind of a cold. I'd almost have rather the Lakers not made that run at the end. True, it allowed me to rebuff a few taunting text messages (sort of), and gives Los Angeles a bit of added confidence as they head home. Though from a viewer's perspective, it was a tad maddening. I slogged through all that other basketball rot, only to see the larval smudge leave the mark of the butterfly with two minutes left. False hope, and very nearly a slap in the face of anyone whose attention waned, or who shut off the set. At least when the immortal Celtics/Nets game went down (SORRY FRIEND!!!!!!!), I was young, spry, hungry, and able to sit in front of set throughout despite women sulking to the contrary. Now, I lack that resolve and bravery.

But at least one good thing did come out of it. And I'm not talking about a certain absolute breaking point of the Mark Jackson/JVG on-air tension (if Jackson realizes there is any). No, it happened in my brain, and it had everything to do with a very basic binary: The practical versus the visionary, or idealist, basketball.

The main basketball point I've taken away from these two games has been the clash in philosophies. Boston is perfectly at home in the muck, confusion and chaos. Broken plays, or dumping it off to P.J. Brown because something has to happen (and does), are its bread and butter on offense. On defense, they dig in and stir up more and more of a mess for Los Angeles by utterly preventing them from getting in position. No position, no triangle; no triangle, no Lakers hell-oil machine that so much astounded us for the first three rounds.



Granted, the Celtics do target these "pressure points" in the Los Angeles offense, but they also just keep grinding away. These are the point of fortification, and from, the goal is to ensure that Kobe can't to the lane to distract from this overall strategy, or find anyone remotely suited to faciliate in his place. It is war at its most strong and viral. Joey points out that duh, Coach T for the Celtics would bring some of the classic Knicks' philosophy to bear. Protect the lane at all costs. Against the Lakers, though, this takes on a dramatic new meaning. If I had to draw a basic distinction between East and West, it would be this pragmatism vs. idealism divide.

We're used to thinking of idealism, or perfectionism, in basketball as Larry Brown fretting over slightly incorrect execution. But on a more cosmic scale, it's teams who subscribe to a system, ideal, or vision, and aspire always to erect this utopia on hardwood, and those who desire to run head-on into battle with a handful of directives and a strong taste for disorder.

For those of you keeping score, or looking for me to say such things, that's an important FD line in the sand. Watching the Lakers struggle to find their spots on the floor, to sit up in my seat whenever they did manage to do so, was like watching someone's dream throttled and reborn in rapid succession. On some level, "systems" are totalitarian, which explains why the isolation flourished in the East, alongside the gritty defensive teams that preached a descent into controlled mayhem. It's the five-man, organic answer to one dude's improv-ed attacks.

Oh, my bad, "one player of undeniable individual offensive gifts, prone to hold the ball, put on a show, and go for delf. . . I mean, the basket." RELIEF.

Anyway, on the other hand, you've got all these team that aspire to some higher sense of purpose or identity. Sometimes, as with the Lakers, it's remarkably concrete. But still, the triangle is a concept, a recasting of basketball that doesn't proceed from traditional notions of execution and roles. For it to work, it has to get set up correctly on earth, and basic human impulses must be suppressed.



If you don't think this is one of those great American debates, one that mirrors the likes of pragmatism vs. transcendentalism or capitalism vs. socialism, you're darn right even if I'd never been born. Until the very end of last night, the Lakers proved why Communism failed in the face of Nixon and Reagan. Or maybe just in the face of humanity itself, which is not so well-tuned to retain precise doctrine when the shit hits the fan and the earth's surface starts to churn.

Granted, the triangle is the most extreme version of a "system," one that is at once hyper-concrete and profoundly transformative. At this point, it's darn hard to separate from Jackson's whole guru-like ways. But it also fits so many teams we've relentlessly advocated in the past. The Suns, early, untrammeled incarnation, and the 2006 Warriors, were ideas even if their five-man fluid rage was held together only by the most loose sense of chemistry, even shared faith.

That's a far cry from the nihilism expressed by the isolation (if not in the intersection of that play and its audience). I mean, shit, all these teams of principle, who would prefer to do their thing and match it up than actively undermine their opponents' identity, those are FD. I guess they're pussies, too, but it's what I like.

So do I hate the Celtics? No, I'm tapped out. It's more that what's made the Lakers so unearthly up to this point has been their ability to gleefully impose their new rules upon the game. Whatever the opposite of reactive is, they're it. All that shit about controlling the tempo and setting the tone, they were that. The Celtics, they strike first but do so preemptively, and then push the spiral downward from there. I wonder if they really hold the game in the palm of their hand, or have simply deemed it best to let it ride out on a wave of very, very smart destruction.

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.