There Is No Scrap Impartial

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I think we finally have our Psychological Man. His name, much to my utter surprise and possible chagrin, is DeMarcus Cousins.

As long as this site's been live, we've harped on player psychology. Not "what is a point guard thinking in the clutch", but as best we can, tried to determine what makes these dudes tick. Especially when, as it so very not the case in other sports, uniform execution simply won't do, and the decisions players make—their respective styles, if you will—can't help but reveal something about them as people. It may be only a thin breach here and there, through which little light is admitted, or gaping blast of individuality, but either way there's humanity in them there ball players.

Somewhere out there, a unified theory of FreeDarko presents itself in the heavens. For now, I'd go so far as to say that style and personality are the strong and weak force of our NBA cosmology, which is why no amount of boring-ass critiques will make me lose interest in Kobe Bryant. It's also why Gilbert Arenas was for so very long our patron saint. His entire public existence depended on either riding or struggling against that interpretive undercurrent "quirk". With the locker room incident and FINGER GUNZ, it went so far as to suggest that, in fact, he had been (figuratively, duh) swept out to sea. At some point, the joke ceases to be on the rest of the world, and out-there behavior becomes either sad or self-destructive.

That's also what happened with Michael Beasley, whatever happened with Beasley. He entered the draft speaking with uncommon candor—which in retrospect, turned out to be a "don't let me do this" cry for someone to keep him in school. At the time, though, it really seemed as if teams were being forced to confront the possibility that players could be weird, and yet still thrive. Arenas was a high-wire act, someone who played up his shtick for commercial gains and then found himself seemingly fall victim to his own act. Beasley entered the league not playing pranks and committing absurd gestures, but simply refusing to make sense. Again, at the moment it's hard to say he was taking a stand for anything but his own immaturity. And I mean that in the most light, sympathetic way possible.

All of which brings us to DeMarcus Cousins. You all know the story by now. Cousins was, all the way back to his high school days, branded "a problem". He didn't have Arenas's charm or Beasley's enigmatic qualities. DeMarcus Cousins had, as they say, an attitude. He was not a high-character guy. Supposedly, he fought with coaches, loafed, and wouldn't stay in shape. Whatever had happened at Kentucky, where he proved so dominant that John Wall was often relegated to a supporting role, was fool's gold compared to the monster he would become as a pro. It didn't help that, in many ways, the most apt comparisons the pros offered were Zach Randolph, Eddy Curry, and reaching back a ways, Derrick Coleman (that one more than ever after Vegas, but I'm getting ahead here).

I was staunchly anti-Cousins, though mostly owing to the fact that I thought his college career was a mirage and his height not what it turned out to be. When the whole thing got all weird and paternalistic, I realized which side justice smiled upon. Cousins was trapped in a strange rhetorical bind best described as "worst available". He was the bad seed of the draft, the high-risk, high-reward guy who got all the ink, and of course. Not every draft class is so lucky as to have one. But once anyone can be stuck in the "bad kid" or "problem" category, they will catch hell up until they prove otherwise.



Beasley, incidentally, saw his stock of evil rise (fall?) as the draft approach. Draw your own cause and effect conclusions here, but Cousins loomed larger and larger as a talent and became more and more of a potential thug creature. Don't blame FreeDarko; we dispatched Joey Litman to meet Cousins and observe him acting like the kid he was. Beasley had said "I'm a kid", but for him that opened the door out onto all sorts of weirdness. Cousins really just came off as sweet, likable, and hardly the kind of ass who would warrant such premature nay-saying.

Fast forward to the Vegas league, where Cousins's debut was awaited almost as eagerly as Wall's. When he proved even more of a force (granted, Wall had very little to prove), and flashed skills and awareness that had once been mere fluff in the mouths of his biggest supporters, Cousins instantly became the second-biggest star among the rookies. That attitude we heard so much about? Damn right it's there. But it's fire, intensity, and the desire to flat-out destroy his opponent, especially other big men. It's exactly what so many other bigs are lacking, and why they end up a very different kind of bust. Cousins rages because he cares. It's that simple. To say that his personality can be rough or stubborn at times is to say that he's a gamer. Attitude on the court, if it's this kind of edge and determination, is the exact opposite of what off-court attitude will sow.

And it's not like Cousins is lacking in self-awareness, something we can debate all day about Arenas or Beasley. The Timberwolves, of course, tried to throw him off by antagonizing and harassing him, expecting him to crack and show the lunatic no one wanted to draft (including them). Except as soon as Cousins caught on, he disengaged himself and opened scoffed at the tactic. Does this sound like a wayward brat to you?

All of which brings us back to psychology. Cousins did, indeed, possess many of qualities NBA scouts feared in him. Except he possessed them in a way that manifested itself primarily on the court, where they were a decidedly good thing. Differentiating between on and off-court personality, as well as mapping out their intersection, has never been more important than now. What's more, the "good kid"/"problem" binary has revealed itself to be, if not a farce, at least utterly simplistic, the kind of clap-trap that no journalist—much less a scout—should bother to hang his hat on.

Cousins might seem to call into question whatever it is that Arenas and Beasley represented. On the contrary, in his contradictions, he make more urgent than ever the need to develop a more psychologically sophisticated approach to assessing prospects. Arenas asserted the right to be kooky, unpredictable, and obsessive; Beasley, incoherent, compelling and loud. That was a fair description of each at their best, and if their stories ended today, each would serve as a cautionary tale against this kind of player. Cousins, though, makes the case for the development of something new, something that might actually better equip a team for an Arenas or Beasley—that is, anyone other than an outright bust.

Earlier today, Ziller wrote about Rashad McCants. McCants, it seems, was Cousins before Cousins, and had the bad luck to not be born very tall. No one has yet been able to tell me exactly what it is that makes McCants so horrible and unemployable. Maybe he's not the best defender, and there have been some confounding incidents with scheduling and contracts (like TZ's post today). But McCants himself believes he had been blacklisted, and I'm inclined to believe he's not far off. McCants deserves a chance to succeed based on his abilities, not some shit-poor conception of what makes for good and bad soldiers in a mechanized world that never really existed in the first place.

First Annual Memorial FreeDarko Dinosaur Draft

John Wall can go to hell. There are dinosaurs that want to play in this league, and while many of them have probably been extinct for millions of years, their memory lingers on. Shoals, Ziller, and Eric Freeman are proud to present the First Annual Memorial FD Dino Draft. We can only hope you learn as much as we had to. Oh, also, someone needs to start a boobs and draft site. It would do millions of eyes per day!

1. New Jersey - Velociraptor



The widely acknowledged best propsect in the draft does not come without serious concerns, notably that widely available "Jurassic Park" scouting tape shows him to be twice his real size and that he works best in packs with similar players. Still, it's hard to argue with the Swift Robber's tremendous speed, intelligence, and ability to jump passing lanes and create transition opportunities at the other end. Yes, Chris Paul's injury this season may scare some teams from taking a small guard, but the Nets need to go with the closest approximation of a sure thing we have in this draft. Plus, you know that first game against Toronto will have more familial intrigue than even the Lopez Civil Wars. (Eric Freeman)

2. Minnesota - Gallimimus



The unfortunately named "chicken imitator" represents a major jump forward not only in dinosaur evolution, but in scouting philosophy. For years, scientists have quasi-racist-ly wondered if Africans made better long-distance runners because of genes, or Africa, or something equally deterministic. The Nuggets have yet to draft a player from the Himalayas, and the hyberbaric chamber didn't stick as a training fad. But with Gallimimus—a fleet, active dinosaur even at almost ten feet tall—the body temperature of roughly 102 degrees Fahrenheit will no doubt come in handy in the wilds of Minnesota. Warming up may not literally mean "getting warm," but no question this beast will be ready to play faster than its human teammates, and be slowed less by the creaks, aches and pains that come with living in cold country. (Bethlehem Shoals)

3. Sacramento - Carcharodontosaurus



Strangely enough, size and toughness corresponded more tightly in the prehistoric world than in today's NBA. Carcharodontosaurus, one of the largest predators ever, combines tenacity and brawn like few prospects. It'd be considered a can't-miss prospect if not for perceived attitude problems. The Algerian big man has a killer instinct with the tools to implement pain, but it's a black hole who thinks pretty highly of itself and doesn't like to share the rock. (Or anything.) Carcharodontosaurus is also said to have a sticky buy-out option with its Italian club. Shades of Fran Vasquez? Sacramento has been able to pull international players (Peja Stojakovic, Hedo Turkoglu) in the past, and Carcharodontosaurus just fits too well to pass up at No. 3. (Tom Ziller)

4. Golden State - Amargasaurus



Hailing from the La Amarga region of Argentina, this is perhaps the most intriguing and confusing sauropod in this class. Off the court, expect him to turn Anthony Randolph onto the joys of club mosses and ferns, which should treat his stomach much better than the raw turtle meat Monta convinced him to try last season. Scouts can't agree whether Amargasaurus's spines support a sail, hump, or horny sheath -- each of which portends a different path for his career. Don Nelson hasn't seen a philosophical battle this stark since the early days of Dirk Nowitzki. Amargasaurus isn't versatile; he's a Rorschach test. And Nellie is absolutely sure that it's a 12-foot small forward, not a post guy. For a man who loves to prove his point with little regard for reptilian decency, there's no more desirable player. (EF)

5. Washington - Mononykus



Undersized, and with short arms and ridiculously long, powerful legs, Monoykus is certainly one of the most engimatic players in this draft. It prefer to play in the post, clearing out space (shades of Moses wit dat azz) and then meekly popping in a shot with expert touch. Such are the advantages of living life like a giant ant-eater when away from the court. Mononykus certainly fits in with the overall strangeness of the Wizards team, but most importantly, brings back some of the toughness lost when Caron Butler was traded. It also, in a way, replaces Antawn Jamison, as its unorthodox work in the paint both keeps teams on their toes and leaves room for Gilbert Arenas and Andray Blatche to operate. Better than Jamison, actually, since it not only makes space for itself, but has a Varejao-like knack for getting others players better looks. Also, it is already blue, which has to save DC some money somehow. (BS)

6. Philadelphia - Gojirasaurus



Ed Stefanski, a secret monster flick fanatic, can't pass up Gojirasaurus. The demonic theropod fits the Philadelphia mold, with incredible athleticism gilding over crummy fundamental skills. A tweener, like every other Sixer not named Sam Dalembert or Elton Brand, Gojirasaurus figures to study under Thaddeus Young and fill in in smallball lineups. Finding the right coach to get Gojirasaurus on the right path remains a priority for Philadelphia; like Young and Andre Iguodala, Gojirasaurus would have been a disaster under Eddie Jordan. If Philadelphia makes the playoffs, the rookie could have a Beauboisian impact. (TZ)

7. Detroit - Tyrannosaurus Rex:



You know the legend: few players have garnered so much hype while in college (even at the tiny University of Montana). He's the king of the predators, the hadrosaur to end all hadrosaurs. It's no surprise that a downtrodden franchise would go for a big-name player who can bring in fans, especially in a town where everyone is looking for excuses to hold on to their dollars. Unfortunately, noted draft expert Jack Horner thinks everyone has it wrong, and that T. Rex has been scavenging stats from harder-working players for years, taking the attendant acclaim when he really only showed up late and picked at the bones of the opposition. On the other hand, he trained with Eddie Franklin, one of the finest coaches of our era. And just imagine how much that intro music will work up the crowd! (EF)

8. L.A. Clippers - Stygimoloch



On the surface, a very Clippers pick. Ten feet long, four feet tall, you figure whoever their GM is got his numbers confused. But as is often the case with the Clip Show, there's something far more troubling afoot here. Stygimoloch, whose name means either "Demon from the River Styx", "Thorny Devil", or "Horned Devil from the River of Death," looks evil and crazy and owes its fearsome moniker to the legend of River Styx, which you cross to get to Hades, and Moloch, the devil in the Jewish faith. In fact, it's the only dinosaur with Hebrew on its jersey. So we have an ancient, revolting drone of Satan whose name directly refers to the Jews—a people who, as it so happens, are to forced to acknowledge Donald Sterling as one of their own. Sterling is reunited here with his henchman of eons ago, proving that he is, if not the devil, at least in league with him. (BS)

9. Utah - Caudipteryx



If Jameer Nelson is a crib midget, Caudipteryx is a ... midget crib midget. The Boykins-with-bite hails from China, where it developed ball skills and quickness chasing cockroaches and dandelion blossoms. Caudipteryx is a real showman, something Utah's royal Miller family embraces despite the conservative roster the Jazz employ. Thank goodness Caudipteryx waited until Hot Rod Hundley retired to make itself draft-eligible, though -- it would have given the old man a half-dozen strokes a year. Watching this oviraptor is bound to make the heart palpitate and stop at the same time. (TZ)

10. Indiana - Camarasaurus



Even after all these years, the Pacers can't shake the demons of The Brawl, maintaining their commitment to nice young boys with sharp haircuts even as they languish in the late stages of the lottery. Camarasaurus fits their franchise ethos perfectly. A world-traveled type who's already plied his trade in several continents, he was nice enough to provide diggers in squeaky-clean Utah with the most complete sauropod skeleton ever found in 1922. The bad news is that he has holes in his vertebrae and might not want to do much more than eat trees. But Roy Hibbert worked out pretty well, and you could have said the same things about him in 2008. (EF)

11. New Orleans - Prenocephale



Small, speedy, and with gigantic eyes that indicate its superior vision, Prenocephale is yet another prime point guard to call New Orleans home. Chris Paul is a crown jewel of today's NBA, and Darren Collison might have been the finest PG in last year's rookie class. The Hornets, who have so little to their name, really have choice but to try and play them together. Marcus Thornton brings some pure scoring fire power, but someone has to spell Paul and Collison if the team really does go with a "best available" approach to the starting line-up. Or, if one is traded, the team will need a back-up. Or, if things get really crazy, and someone recognizes that even a 4-foot tall dinosaur is still really fucking strong and athletic, maybe Preneocphale can become like a scaly cross between Tyson Chandler and Brad Miller. (BS)

12. Memphis - Chirostenotes



Chirostenotes may be Greek for "narrow handed," but don't think Memphis's point guard of the future has Kwame paws. Despite its regrettable height, Chirostenotes has a solid trunk and figures to be the rare guard with a post presence. Chirostenotes' vicious defensive energy should also help shore up the Grizzlies' weaknesses on that end, and like Kyle Lowry before him, Chirostenotes will keep Mike Conley looking like Matthew Lesko. Hasheem Thabeet + Chirostenotes = marketing gold. (TZ)

13. Toronto - Avimimus



Most prognosticators have assumed that the Raptors would take some variety of their namesake, but Bryan Colangelo has always had more imagination than that. With Chris Bosh likely leaving town in a few weeks, this is a franchise in transition, so what better way to literalize things than by taking a creature that has as much in common with a bird as a reptile. Avimimus, the Bird Mimic, looks like a prehistoric turkey and can even fly a short distance in a manner similar to that of a chicken. Sure, that might not sound like much, especially for a player this small, but this is all about baby steps. You can't learn to fly until you first hop with extreme awkwardness. Eventually, the Raptors will soar like eagles. (EF)

14. Houston - Ouranosaurus



No one has ever accused Daryl Morey of skewing obvious, but he's also not devious. Ouranosaurus, a relatively docile creature that's nevertheless earned the title "brave monitor lizard", is right up Morey's alley. It's 6'7", has a fin that serves as an invaluable offensive weapon (i.e. it can block everyone's line of sight), and is equal parts savage, noble monster and thoughtful, upright reptile-cow. Ouranosaurus likes efficient, high-percentage shots, and knows how to get them, just like how in nature it finds pine cones and leaves that it doesn't have to stretch to eat. Some see a prospect lacking in real size, or low on clear-cut plans of attack. But this dude is resourceful and capable of reading the situation to find his spot, a fitting replacement for the dearly departed Carl Landry. Get in and fit in. That's its motto, and it might as well be the credo for the Yao/Martin/Adelman Rox. (BS)

15. Milwaukee - Dromiceiomimus



The world again applauds John Hammond's good fortune. After Colangelo reached for a bird mimic at No. 13, the Bucks saw Dromiceiomimus, the emu mimic, slide to them at No. 15. Shades of DeRozan over Jennings. Dromiceiomimus slides right into Milwaukee's brilliant power forward rotation (Ersan Ilyasova, Luc Richard Mbah a Moute), offering less refined skills but tremendous speed in the open court. Luke Ridnour was born to hit Dromiceiomimus with bounce passes. There are some concerns as to whether Dromiceiomimus can co-exist with Andrew Bogut, given Bogut's stated hatred of bling and loud hip hop, two of Dromiceiomimus' fundamental loves. (TZ)

16. Charlotte - Nanotyrannus



All discerning NBA fans can agree that the Bobcats have embarrassing riches of viciousness in their frontcourt. Yet before the arrival of Stephen Jackson, their perimeter players have typically been style vacuums of the order of Raymond Felton and D.J. Augustin. Nanotyrannus, a 6'6" hadrosaur some analysts think may simply be a juvenile T. Rex, can help continue the trend that Captain Jack started. If other wings are smooth, Nanotyrannus is the kind who will dunk on your head and then eat your baby right after it hatches. Oh, plus he's the first dinosaur to be CAT-scanned and lived for a relatively short period of just one million years. In other words, he sounds exactly like a perimeter version of Gerald Wallace. (EF)

17. Chicago - Baryonyx



A huge, huge steal for Chicago. There have never been any questions about the skill, motivation, physical ability, or intelligence of Baryonyx (or "Heavy Claw" as it was nicknamed as the University of Niger). Heavy Claw is an inside-outside threat with highly-evolved passing skills, the kind of creator the Bulls badly need. It even scored a 1300 on the SATs. The concern was that, because of the incredible risk its talons pose to the basketball, the NBA would declare it ineligible for the league, as it did with Pteroactyl and other flying reptiles. Throughout high school and college, HC was outfitted with its very own protective glove, but the NBA felt this violated its Laws of Equipment. Luckily, when Leon Rose threatened to sue, the league relented. However, the situation remains tense, with both sides vowing to take this all the way up to the Supreme Court if it should go to trial. The Players Association has refrained from taking a side because it's still not sure if it can speak for the dinosaurs. (BS)

18. Miami - Euoplocephalus



If Pat Riley is really coming back, he needs to add a banger to help distract everyone from what Michael Beasley has become. Enter Euoplocephalus (aka "Well-Armored Head," the most literal streetball name ever). Euoplocephalus is Al Horford in Jeff Bower's body. Paul Millsap and Brandon Bass and, hell, even Glen Davis have continued to sing the tune of the rough-and-tumble undersized power forward. Euoplocephalus has short, stout legs, but weighs over two tons. It will be exceedingly difficult to ref Euoplocephalus, should the beast ever reach his potential and co-lead the Heat deep into the playoffs. (TZ)

19. Boston - Edmontonia



This postseason, the Celtics are proving that age and midseason lethargy don't necessarily consign a team to an early playoff exit. They're surviving in any way possible. Sixty-six million years ago, Edmontonia extolled the same ethos and became one of the last surviving dinosaurs through a combination of dogged resilience and determination. Plus, it's already green and white. No uniform necessary. (EF)

20. San Antonio - Maiasaura



You look at Malasaura and see an unremarkable, slow, medium-sized herbivore. That's why you don't work for the Spurs front office. They know that a Malasaura bone is the only fossil to thus far make the long journey into outer space, which is exactly the kind of detail that Popovich and Buford are looking for. Can I tell you for certain how it will be used, or what the implications of this fact are? No, but that's why I'm writing this dinosaur mock draft instead of working for the Spurs. (BS)

21. Oklahoma City - Einiosaurus



You want to know how comfortable Einiosaurus is in his own skills? It has a hooking bottle-opener nasal horn, two superorbital horns, and two frill spikes ... and Einiosaurus doesn't eat meat! Like Kevin Durant, Einiosaurus could gore you on every possession, but holds it back, waiting for the right opportunity. (Serge Ibaka and Russell Westbrook could learn something from Einiosaurus.) The "Buffalo Lizard" should study under Nick Collison in order to learn the ways of the rebound and the drawn charge, though the next time Einiosaurus hits the deck will be the first. (TZ)

22. Portland - Argentinosaurus



The Blazers are at a crossroads with Kevin Pritchard potentially heading out the door and Greg Oden seemingly becoming less a part of the team's future plans with each passing year. This next season needs to be a time to figure things out and decide which of their considerable young assets should be kept around and which should be dealt for needed pieces. In short, they don't need any more players around to make things even more complicated. That's why Argentinosaurus is the perfect pick -- even at 97 million years of age, he won't be ready for the NBA for at least another season. The fossil record on this beast is startingly incomplete, but at an estimated 24-feet-tall, the potential is certainly there. I even hear Paul Allen's already booked him a sail barge to Spain, where he's likely to replace Tiago Splitter in the Real Madrid lineup. (EF)

23. Minnesota - Troodon



You look at this pick and think, hey, even David Kahn takes days off. He probably just sprung for Troodon because it can run the floor and has vicious teeth, much like a Timberwolf. It's not even three-feet tall, which also represents an obvious scouting oversight. But wait, there's more. For reasons inexplicable to those of us not thoroughly immersed in the warm, murky baths of paleontological discourse, Troodon has been singled out as "Most Likely to Evolve Into Something Totally Weird" in the annal of dinosaur-dom. Here is a quote, drawn from said broth of knowledge: "In the early 1980s, paleontologist Dale Russell, curator of vertebrate fossils at the National Museums of Canada, in Ottowa, explore the notion 'What if Troodon had survived and continued to evolve and get brainier?'. The resulting "Dinosauroid" was a model of a large-brained, reptilian biped with enormous eyes, three-fingered hands, an absence of external genitalia (typical of reptiles), and a navel." The Corey Brewer experiment has spawned an imitator—or maybe Kahn just wants to leave behind the reptile son he never could have in life. (BS)

24. Atlanta - Sauropelta



Sauropelta has been very well-scouted, which explains why he dropped so far out of the lottery despite a solid defensive body of work in college. The Rocky Mountain product is a bit of a tweener (both SF-PF and Nodosauridae-Ankylosauridae), and it has no long-range consistency. To succeed in the league, Sauropelta will have to work harder than anyone else on the court, which, to be fair, it has shown the ability to do. Jay Bilas cannot believe Sauropelta fell this far, and is planning on torching a Ukrainian farmer's market as a result. (TZ)

25. Memphis - Supersaurus



Yes, it's another big man for the Grizzlies just a year after Hasheem Thabeet. But the difference in expectations renders it a solid pick nonetheless. At this late stage in the draft, you're drafting for role players rather than potential stars, and no one expects Supersaurus to be anything more than a space-filler and shot-blocker in the paint. You know that old saw about how you can't teach size? James A. Jensen coined it when he found the first bones of the species in 1985. (EF)

26. Oklahoma City - Iguanadon



Call it the Myth of the Dinosaur Jeff Green, or maybe Jeff Green with Dinosaur Qualities, which would make up for the shame Green amassed during the playoffs (and may yet never live down). Iguanadon is, as its name implies, part-iguana, part-dinosaur. Sometimes bipedal, sometimes galloping about on all fours, it's unassuming enough that no one would mistake it for a Garnett or Anthony Randolph-like impact-dinosaur. Nor, really, is it a useless dino-tweener. Green is one of the few players that warrants the description of "hybrid", in that he's neither here nor there, rather than subject to a variety of limitations. His formlessness is his freedom—not ground for his dismissal, nor his heroic burden. So it is with Iguanadon, just doing its thing and trying to make due with some of the best qualities of two distinct phases in reptile development. It is also ten feet tall, which will probably come in handy more than we currently anticipate. Myth of Gigantic Dinosaur Jeff Green Doubling as the Center OKC So Badly Needs? I think that's what I always wanted Alexis Ajinca to be, right down to the dino part. (BS)

27. New Jersey - Masiakasaurus



Mikhail Prokhorov makes his first political pick, having let Rod Thorn handle the lotto selection. Prokhorov has a deal on Madagascar which needs some ... lubrication, so the prime minister's bro's neighbor's nephew is now an NBA player. Congrats, Masiakasaurus, you tiny but vicious lizard. Rafer Alston ought to be relieved he fled Jersey when he could, and man, Corey Booker's going to have a lot of problems to sweep under the rug. The highlight of Masiakasaurus' career might be when Stu Scott calls him "the next T.J. Kidd" on draft night. (TZ)

28. Memphis - Segnosaurus



Every year, a player drops because of a bizarre measurement or medical tic that scares off many unimaginative general managers. This year, that player is Segnosaurus, an impressive player known for his omnivorous versatility. At the combine, though, he tested poorly in speed drills and has been recognized as the first therizinosaurid to be classified from more than just its arms. (There was also a smear campaign perpetrated in the Robert Bakker novel Raptor Red that he's a burrower, but no actual evidence has proven this behavior.) In other words, he's not prototypically "long." But while that classic draft adjective has application to real basketball, it's not necessarily a kiss of death, even for a now-extinct animal. Segnosaurus will enter the league with something to prove and could become one of this class's biggest surprises. (EF)

29. Orlando - Carnotaurus



Holy cow . . . literally. Carnotaurus, whose name means what you think—something about "meat" and "bull"—is a twelve-foot tall raw dynamo with a gigantic single horn on its head. Some messed-up scouting had him pegged as a color-changing weirdo, as seen in Jurassic Park. Amazing how much screwed-up dinosaur evaluation was in the early days (of dinosaur evaluation, not dinosaurs, which have always been old), right? This thing is perfect for Orlando. Carnotaurus could prematurely end the career of either Gortat or Brandon Bass, thus getting rid of one of those malcontents and solving the crowded frontcourt. It is also highly unlikely that its offense could be more rudimentary than Dwight Howard's, a challenge the young superstar would have to address. Carnotaurus will be an important practice player and, down the road, hard-bitten D-League legend that serves as the subject for a Bull Durham-like epic of dust. (BS)

30. Washington - Afrovenator



Some names just scream "NBA" -- Sleepy Floyd, Tiny Archibald, Julius Erving, J.R. Rider, Rafael Araujo, Afrovenator. This '90s throwback -- think Larry Johnson minus a finger and an opposable thumb -- likely doesn't have the speed to be a factor in uptempo games, but Flip Saunders is typically content to let his flex offense piddle around, so Afrovenator could play a key bench role behind Andray Blatche and JaVale McGee. The key here, however, comes off the court, where the good-nature Afrovenator promises to rekindle the mid-Oughts love of life the Wizards exuded. Gilbert Arenas has been too spoiled by controversy to crap in someone's sneaker. But Afrovenator can get away with it. (TZ)

Fall Over Parade

I find it possibly amazing that Gerald Wallace is in the All-Star Game and Josh Smith should be. We did it. We made it. Our choices have been just. Note: I forgot Durant was a first-time All-Star yesterday because, in my mind, he's been on since Texas. Say that what you will about my love with this game.

Oh wait, Josh Smith didn't get in, it stings me right down to the bone, and you can read all about my feelings and history's folly (committed upon its own head, no less), in this precious column of mine.

I ended up cutting a paragraph that might have been all figurative economics too dry for those parts, so I lay it here. Or at least its essence. Think about this: It took time for hs-ers and Euros (in the wake of KG and Dirk) to become automatic presences in the high lottery. There was still a little bit of lingering skepticism, or at least hesitance. And these were the consensus best few teens the world had to offer. Thus, in theory, in the beginning there was a de facto cap placed on what hs/Euro picks made it in. It was only the cream of the crop, those generally agreed upon as the "next KG" or "next Dirk."

However, it didn't stop there. Once these players moved all the way to the top, the floodgates were opened for the "Maybe Next KG" and "Possibly Maybe Next Dirk." This is how you got Josh Howard and David West going at the end of the first round; high school/Euro picks weren't boom-or-bust by nature, they were made to look this way by a willingness to, in effect, scrape the barrel and push the very logic that had made teams pursue them in the first place. The best ones were gambles on great potential, which had built into it some sense of security. It was much more like the risk built into drafting a college player, just with a different form of assurance. The latter ones gambled without any safety net.

This description is remarkably inexact. But what would have happened if teams had never decided to cross that line and go from the relatively safe teens to those with less and less to recommend them as solid pros? When people talk about some sort of committee that would decide when a player could jump from high school, it seems like what they're really talking about is this alternate reality where all these other prospects never snuck in the cracked door on account of equivocation.

You've Got The Look!

I always thought these things came out after the draft, but here these are. Okay, so maybe they always come out beforehand; perhaps I didn't notice until this year because so much is unsettled, so many players looking to define themselves amidst the din, that such images matter more than usual. Anyway, here's my cursory do/don't take on these, with apologies to Billups:



For someone so gangly on the court, Thabeet, unlike most seven-footers, sure knows how to look natural in the suit. He also has a face that looks like it could be put on a normal-sized person, a big plus when it comes to centers seeming human. The guy even shrugs and grins naturally, effortlessly, in a way that puts you at ease. This is wholesome point guard territory, not the usual awkward weirdo introvert.Counterbalance all that on-court scouting, now no one will whisper when he goes top three. For hell's sake, what other big man can drape a sweater over his shoulders without looking like a demonic scarecrow?



Everyone else is trying to tell us who they are, or really are, or want us to think they really are, with these shots. Ricky Ricky could give a fuck less about that. This is all about "how will I like in a fashion shoot" or "am I paparazzi worthy," maybe even "imagine this billboard over Times Square." Because see, Rubio isn't a person, he's an icon, a cute little sensation waiting to, however briefly, make an NBA city feel like it's the center of the basketball world. If that ugly-ass dude who is always on the Clippers could bag a model, imagine what kind of arm-candy this guy will come up with? You other kids get sneaker contracts; he's busy moving Armani.



Life is all about stark contrasts. Here's Rubio's arch-rival, humorless, smile-less, and without frivolity, dressed up just enough to show you he knows he, dressed down to show you he will roll up those sleeves and get to work. That expression says STRICTLY BUSINESS, and he's even hiding the ball in a non-flamboyant way. "My name is Brandon, and I control the rock." This shot also makes you believe he's just a weird-looking dude, not a teen still growing into his face. It's all gaze, no market, just the portrait of a player who wants respect. Which is overdoing it, of course, since this shit about him falling to #20 is just a Masonic conspiracy.



They say Jrue Holiday isn't ready. They say he only looks good on paper. The answer? Make him look a very sensitive golem emerging from a long lunch break in the void of un-being. I hope that's a satisfactory explanation.



Jordan Hill is just trying to figure it all out.



You know the ultimate mark of either a very young athlete or a total mama's boy? When they can't rock an outfit without looking like someone else picked it out for them. It also doesn't help that DeRozan, who is going to get drafted based on athleticism, looks like he's running for student body president of Dead Person University. No color? No expression but that wan grin? I don't even believe this guy can move. Or maybe I'm reading it all wrong, and that's the point: Seriousness and composure, to preempt all the "jump out the gym" talk. Even something resembling a wrap-around pass. Hidden secrets. Unknown pleasures. Whatever the last Joy Division album is called.



First of all, I own that same outfit. But not the socks. I like the socks, and think that's the next frontier of NBA fashion. That said, Curry looks perfectly comfortable and convincing until you get to the point of contact between his hand and the ball. NOT A GOOD SIGN. If he's going to be anything more than a friendly catch-and-shoot fella, he could at least look like he sometimes takes the ball out at night and does tricks in front of the mirror. . . in that outfit. That's what the people want.



Does Hansbrough mean to be wearing exactly what Adam Morrison rocked in 2006?

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Read the official FD Mock!

You don't need to warn me about the perils of drafting based on potential—what it seems like a player might be able to do one day. I have both been seduced by, and gotten endless mileage out of, this rotting cliche of NBA scouting. There's a distinction to be made, which I've done several times and don't feel like doing again, between "might be able to do" and "could be the kind of player who might be able to do." But while the latter is more immediately compelling, it's not like the former is more empirically sound, just not so utterly Romantic or suspended in a dream-like state not unlike religious conversion.

So it is with great trepidation that I seek to advance a serious scouting theory based on a hypothetical. However, since seeing that Brandon Jennings Euromix, I've been thinking about a line I've heard, and read, in several places: roughly, "there's just no one else in the draft who can do the things he can." The legend of Ricky Rubio aside, Jennings's slippery, high-speed trickery with the ball is an asset that just can't be ignored. Jennings is accused of showboating, streetball, next Marbury, and all the usual. But as a passer and facilitator, Jenning's game isn't bullshit, it's the kind of Nash/Paul skill that could pull together an entire offense in this PG-friendly (or -centric, you choose) era. And Jennings doesn't merely have great vision. When it comes to this one, rarefied aspect of the game, he can hang with anyone in the league.



If you don't believe me, ask Stephen Curry, speaking to Chris over at The Baseline:

CL: Tell me what you thought of Jennings. Everywhere he's going, he seems to be leaving a trail of fire, one way or another, like what he said about Rubio for example. Tell me what he was like as a player and what he was like as a person.

SC: As a player, he's very quick. You don't know exactly what he's going to do. He's got an unconventional style about him where you think he's going one way and he'll throw back between the legs and go another way. He's tough to guard because he keeps his dribble active and looks for open spots on the floor. He definitely is a solid point guard. I think his season in Italy really helped him develop going against physical guys.

CL: Did Jennings remind you of that you've seen?

SC: No, he plays different than anyone I've seen before.

CL: What makes him unique?

SC: His creativity with the ball. He's always moving. Even without the ball, he's just always active on the floor. When we were doing 3-on-3 drills he'd do the Steve Nash dribble from one side of the court, underneath the basket, to the other and do a turn around. He's a great passer, so you've got to stay in front of him

I know I shouldn't take the word of a player I'm not so high on. And as Henry noted, Jennings still has major holes. However, this is exactly the point I'm after here. Jennings isn't a gaseous cloud of could-be, nor a good young player whose past offers a template for future success. He's both more and less than each of these. In some ways, he's the best PG in the draft; in others, one of the shakiest, a project needing not only technical tutelage, but some basic help getting in tune with the pro game. The level of competition in Europe may be higher in the NCAA, and it helped Jennings grow up; at the same time, is there any question this kid's recent history leaves him with a lot to work through on the court?

But again, that brilliance with the ball, the total unpredictability and idiosyncracy Curry refers to. Yes, it could lead him to self-destruct. As of now, though, it's an enormous asset, at least one facet of what it takes to be a first-tier PG. I want to compare it to drafting Thabeet on the basis of his shot-blocking, and yet this isn't about a specialist. It's about a player with a gift, one that, if a team's ready to look past or committ to sanding down the rough edges, could be the basis of not just an All-Star, but a dynamic team. This is exactly why point guards can be the new franchise these days.



I like Evans, and he's ready right now. But he's not precocious, ahead of and behind himself, like Jennings. Rubio, who knows. At this point, it's impossible to separate his actual ability from the rhetoric (no, not "hype"), a lot of which is glib and contradictory. I don't blame him for not working out, but that's keeping us from getting the same measure of how he stacks up against other prospects. Please, discuss the Olympics below. However, regardles of what Rubio is or isn't, people seem either sold or not sold on him. Everyone agrees on Jennings. The question is whether you take a player on the assumption that from one great thing, other good things will inevitably follow.

FreeDrafto #6.545245: We'll Always Have Promises

FD kicks off its draft coverage by looking forward in order to look forward to looking back. Like, awards we hope we'll be able to give out one day. Participants: Brown Recluse, Joey Litman, Tom Ziller, Ty Keenan, and yours truly.

Least Likely to Dunk in a Game: Jeff Adrien. Dude could barely finish in traffic when he was playing against other 6'6" power forwards. Now what's going to happen? In a ceremony held before the show, Jeff was also named Most Likely to Be Tyler Hansbrough. It was an upset.

Next Russell Westbrook: Rodrique Beaubois. Post-Pietrus (both We Believe and now), where is France in FD Geographical Rankings? Behind Germany (Dirk, Anthony Randolph, Donte Greene) surely.

Most Likely to Pull an MJ and Quit to Play Beach Volleyball: Chase Budinger. Remember this post?

Most Likely to Be the Bill Clinton of the NBA: Chase Budinger. Higher vert than DeRozan! And unlike Brent Barry, he's not insufferable. As a warm-up to All-Star weekend H-O-R-S-E, we need a Budinger/Joe Alexander pit-jumping contest.

Most Likely to Become Julian Wright: Earl Clark. Tall, multi-faceted swingman who can't shoot. Should get taken by a fairly deep team and waste away on the bench.

Most Likely to Surprise Everyone By Being White: Nando de Colo.

Most Blazerly Player Not on the Blazers: Stephen Curry. Seriously, will someone please draft Curry and trade him for Jerryd Bayless? His light-skinneded nice guy-ness belongs in Portland. (NOTE: It was all a dream. . . )

Most Likely to Be Involved in an Unfortunate Off-Court Incident: DeMar DeRozan. I'm just sayin', the signs aren't good.

Most Likely to be the Barack Obama of Utah: Wayne Ellington. Not the western frontiersman that Karl Malone was (or is, as he's likely shooting at something out the back of his 18-wheeler right now), Wayne is, instead, the sort of mainstream (UNC-bred) African-American made for Utah: articulate and bright and clean and a nice-looking guy. He's also the sort of system scorer who could thrive in Utah, where NBADraft.net is projecting he winds up.



Most Next O.J. Mayo-y: Tyreke Evans. Both have some point guard skills, but really should not be playing that position in the NBA. He's wired to score and will average 20 at some point in his career, if not next year, but still, I'm not seeing a lot of All-Star games in his future.

Most Likely to Suffer Because of Everyone's Socio-Cultural Baggage: Tyreke Evans. I find it inspiring, and bound for disaster, that Evans is rocketing up draft boards. He went to Memphis, has PG credentials based on part of a college season, is William Wesley-related, come from a place where the basketball courts barely work, has a crazy name, and likes to dribble. Are scouts just the most tolerant, color-blind, unencumbered folks in the biz?

Most Likely to Represent Blue/Red State Divide: Tyler Hansbrough. When I went to see the Tar Heels play Valpo back in December, a friend and fellow UNC alum asked me if I would ever wear a Hansbrough jersey in public. I replied in the negative, a conclusion with which he agreed. There's nothing cool about the guy, but I've always liked players like Haslem and Millsap, and that's who Hansbrough is in the NBA. Verdict: Moderately FreeDarko.

Most Likely to Miss His T-Shirt: James Harden. Played so within the flow at ASU that you wondered whether he had a mental block on taking over games, to the point where his undershirt took on the significance of a security blanket. In the pros, he might need to wear three headbands to compensate.

Most Likely to Be Tall: Jordan Hill.

Most Likely to Make Bilas Eject Spittle When Chosen Lottery, Other Than Brandon Jennings, Which is Really Too Fucking Obvious: Jrue Holiday.

Most Assonant Name: Damion James

Most Likely to Develop a Cult Following: Damion James. Many players eligible for outsized mythology--justifiable or not--will go in the lottery, and there's nothing cult about that. But James has spent his career on the periphery of our general consciousness, seemingly imprisoned by what he could accomplish were he to figure out what he's meant to be doing. Bang or slash? Diversify or specialize? He will show flashes, especially if he gets to reunite with KD and make it thunder, and that may have the internets going nuts.

Most Likely to Birth His Own Zen Koan: Brandon Jennings. If experts scoff at Jennings's stint overseas, saying he's going where he would've after a year at college, but the kid's obviously gotten better, does it matter where he ends up going?



Best Point Guard in the Draft who has Never Played Professional Basketball in Europe: Ty Lawson. He's like a sturdier TJ Ford who, because he doesn't try to dunk on people, has a much lower likelihood of spinal cord damage.

Least Likely to Be Drafted by the Knicks: Ty Lawson. A point guard who can't be kept out of the lane, pushes the tempo, hits free throws, is a born leader, and has a reasonable jumper? Makes too much sense. Perversely, he would have been more likely to be chosen were Isiah Thomas still in charge.

Most Likely to Kill My Draft Night Buzz: B.J. Mullens. Who the fuck cares? When his name gets called, that's around the time I'll start to lose focus and get hungry. If it's way too high, I will freak out and break lanterns.

Most Likely to Score 50 One Night and Be Talking about It for the Next 40 Years: Tyrese Rice. Can choose shots as though he were a hot JR Smith, and for Rice, the planning can start from the moment he even considers getting out of bed. Of course, this means we don't expect too much else. If the Kentucky Tony Delk had been less accomplished, a little more insane, less of a real shooter, and slightly more streakier....

Ricky Rubio.

Most Likely to Get Red Lips Tattooed on His Neck: Terrence Williams. If Kenyon Martin was a wing player, he would be a lot like this.

Most Complex Prospect on the Right Way/New Jack Spectrum: Terrence Williams. Defense and rebounding like a Larry Brown creation, thought process of a Nellieball android.