East of Agitation?

Hit up another WNBA game last night. This time it was the Storm vs. the Sun, notably mostly for the presence of Lindsay Whalen. While I may have misspelled her name on Twitter (thanks to dude who corrected me immediately!), there was something to her game that seem fairly lacking in what I've seen of the WNBA: Meanness.

First, to step back from the flames of real provocation, a word or two on Whalen. I was serious when I twitted that she doesn't even need the ball to operate masterfully from the point. Depending on how you look at it, it's either quasi-mystical, or the kind of what people used to say about Deron Williams ("he gets hockey assists and stays within the system") before dude came to life, but true.

She gives it up almost as soon as she crossed half-court, or posts up at the top of the key, Cassell-style, but as a way of attracting attention and feeding someone else. And these aren't passes for assists; mostly, they set into motion a series of obvious events (two, three, four passes) that result in an open shot. Her teammates usually miss, and Whalen herself can hit the lane strong and sink jumpers at will, but whatever. She's bigger than that. Closest NBA comparison: Old Jason Kidd, if old Jason Kidd were young and could shoot.

(Speaking of which, last night I decided that comparing NBA to WNBA players is the logical next step of NBA esoterica. Like when Kevin told me "Darko was supposed to be what Lauren Jackson is." These days, everyone knows everything about every random player. If you value elitism and obscurity in your fandom—and buy my argument that the WNBA is a variation on the NBA, not an inferior product like college—then welcome to the new frontier.)



Most notably, though, Whalen is bad. She talks non-stop, plays the whole game with a scowl on her face, and stared down the ref at the half. I even think she a teammate might have been restraining her a little. This is just not the kind of stuff I've seen thus far from any other WNBA player, even someone like Cappy Pondexter or Tanisha Wright who have the kind of game that we'd legitimately expect some swagger from. Everything is very polite, matter-of-fact, and even good-natured—as it remains unquestionably competitive. During that first game, Taurasi pulled off an absolutely devastating block, and stood over her victim, yapping for a second. The whole thing was so foreign, she didn't even get a tech called.

The WNBA markets itself, and arguably, survives as, a positive, family-friendly experience. There are about a billion things about gender and sexuality and stuff that can be said here, but to cut to the chase, you have to wonder if attitude is somehow at odds with this program. I know it's shocking to hear a snarling, feisty white girl described as having "attitude"—and maybe there's a semantic difference between "attitude" and "an attitude"—but it just seems like there's very little edge to the players, in every conceivable place you could conceivably find it.

I come neither to condone or condemn this aspect of the WNBA, except that all this positivity is going to start grating on me at some point. Or at least feel forced. Flash to the league that everyone reading this site knows and loves. Without a doubt, NBA ball is at its best—from the standpoint of any kind of fan—when players get pissed, involved, intense, etc., provided this doesn't lead to them forcing shit. At the same time, I have no problem saying that my least favorite part of games is fan ugliness/attitude. I understand wanting your team to win and all that, but it doesn't excuse being an ignorant dick. I honestly believe that the Falling Down/Taxi Driver-like turn in spectator-hood is as much to blame for all the negativity surrounding the NBA as the seflish thug players are.



But enough about me and my ideal world. Why couldn't the WNBA encourage a crowd of sweetness and light while encouraging players to, I don't know, get a little more raw. I'm not saying they should argue every call, but that league needs more Whalen. By that same token, just because NBA players are talking trash and shoving each other, it doesn't mean the moron next to me has to act like he's watching Jesus get killed. Emotion can be personal without triggering some flight or flight shit. It's called being a grown-up.

That was really draining. I will leave you with a thought from Q. McCall, who has taken it upon himself to make me the world's most famous WNBA convert. To paraphrase, Sue Bird starts over Whalen on the U.S. National Team. Bird also has the image thing down pat. Whalen isn't seen as Bird's equal, even though from a basketball standpoint, she's in many ways better. You have to wonder how much that has to with her demeanor—do some regard it as unnecessary, or even a drawback to her game?

Someone who knows this shit better than me can tell me if Latasha Byears is relevant here.

(Can I curse when writing about the WNBA?)

My Big Error

Okay, I finally get why Deron Williams has it in for Chris Paul. That rivalry not about draft proximity, or proving that his game is every bit as praiseworthy as Paul's wizardry. Over these last two games, I've come to realize what a scalding bad-ass Williams is. He's not just a big PG, or a guy who makes a good first pass, or a meat-and-potatoes offensive cog in Sloan's new machine.

Williams is positively Paul-ian. He's got that Jordan-esque, Kobe-esque indignation and will to destroy that people jock so hard in Paul. When he's pissed, or increasingly, whenever he decides the game belongs to him, Williams does shit on offense that's every bit as phenomenal as CP3's streaking drives. As a passer, too, he gets more and more brazen as these playoffs go on, making plays with little or no regard to the logical order of that line-up.

The bottom line of it is not that Williams detests being second best, though that's part of it. He also can't stand that Paul's seen as a transcendent talent, while because of his size and system he's denied that superstar aura. For too long, Williams was seen as having a natural advantage over Paul, and also inhabiting a controlled situation that supposedly played to his strengths.



He had it better, and yet was best when limited. No more, no more. Williams seems to be moving faster, feeling more, and going for the jugular now, like he's out to prove that Paul's not the only one on the fast track to immortality. I joked about this on Deadspin, but now I'm convinced it's for real.

It's almost enough to make me want to see Hornets/Jazz in the next round, even though, on a sentimental level, I'd prefer to see Kobe and Odom advance.

A few other things:

-Maybe more on this later in the week, but we can stop worrying about how D'Antoni works in New York right now. He's far too valuable, and prestigious, a resource to burn through and offer up for easy sacrifice like head coaches usually are. It'll be at least two years before a team to D'Antoni's liking is in place there, and Walsh wouldn't have made this investment if he didn't plan to wait out this uneasy period.

There might be purges, or stretches of fitful rebuilding, or just plain flawed attempts to make something out of dross. Regardless, though, the New York media and fans won't get to exert their usual pressure here. I know that supposedly D'Antoni is too mild-mannered for NYC, but I prefer to think he's just enough of an outsider to be above it all. He doesn't give a fuck, and will bide his time until he puts together the army he wants.



-Not expecting anyone to sympathize with this, but it's funny how much of these playoffs I spend praying nothing will happen to fuck up the book. McGrady somewhat renouncing the mantle of tragedy threw me off, even if that's still the major story of his career and life. Dr. LIC just emailed me worried that Odom could become a internationally acclaimed playoff hero. It's weird because, while I'd love to have seen T-Mac advance this season, or the Hawks win the series, or have Odom carry the Lakers while Kobe's injured, it would directly fuck up the product our future's riding on.

-I sort of anticipate Kobe's play today to come under scrutiny. By the end, he was moving slow enough that I could've stayed with him; seemed like he was getting worse all along and adjusting accordingly, but after that fall in fourth, there was a huge drop-off that he only really came to terms with on that stumbling baby-hook drive. There were about three possessions late that probably should've centered around Odom or Fisher (okay, maybe not Fisher).

I will say this, though: At this point, criticizing Kobe isn't a descent into utter bedlam. It might even be possible for Jackson to catch some responsibility. That's a powerful statement about how far the MVP has come this season.



-That was the best game of the post-season. The Hawks wins were special to me and my service to the devil, the 2OT Spurs/Suns had a quaint, happily accidental charm to it. Chris Paul on a rampage has been revelatory, even for someone who did watch him all year. But this game, and the preceding Jazz/Lakers, have been a series a well-played, dramatic movements and stars playing like that. And no bullshit role player glorification. Ronnie Brewer is a man. Ronnie Price, too.