Howard Beck delivers perhaps the finest summation of Linsanity in terms of both social/cultural impact (as well as marketing implications) off-the-court and basketball performance on-the-court. Beck looks at Houston's offer to Lin (a restricted free agent, meaning the Knicks can match the salary and retain the player) of 4-years, $28 million, and asks the question that really encapuslates the entire Linsanity phenomenon: how much does the potential for fame and global stardom factor into the long-term salary of a player whose body of credible work is only 26 games deep? Beck goes through the numbers and offers objective analysis into a deal that will pay a player a backloaded salary that will force the team into the luxury tax over the next two seasons. This is a nice, short piece that offers a nuanced, long-term view of Jeremy Lin as one of the Knicks' highest paid players once the cloud of Linsanity dissipates.
This piece was sent to me by friend-of-The Diss Pete Samuels, and I am grateful that he did. This article was published in 2001 in Transitions, a scholarly journal founded in 1961 in Uganda, and a consistent outlet for literature pertaining to the African diaspora. In this essay, the author looks back on the memory of his talented, impoverished all-Black high school team suffering a defeat against a "hard-working", well-funded all-White team from the suburbs. He uses the memory as a prism to assess the validity of the assertion that "playing basketball is a black man's game, but winning basketball is a white man's game." He explores the memoirs of some of the greatest black players in the game, like Shaquille O'Neal and Michael Jordan, as well as some of the greatest white practitioners of the game, like Phil Jackson and Tex Winters, to assess competing visions of success and competence in a sport that is segregated in many ways, in many different arenas. It then takes a close look at the Sacramento Kings (who, at the time of writing in 2001, were one of the league's top teams), using them as a way to assess whether these racial schisms could be mitigated through free-flowing, winning basketball. This piece is smart, funny, well-written -- just a fine piece of writing, and a must-read for those who are interested in the ways race and geography influence style and culture in basketball.
For a long time, Rockets' GM Daryl Morey was considered to be one of the finest young general managers in the game; an MIT whizkid who used his background in statistical analysis to create efficient, Moneyball-esque rosters that made advanced stat-geeks feel tingly down there. Yet, as Noam Schiller points out, these teams, in all actuality, were "middling", and Morey was getting adulation that he probably didn't deserve. So, with the Rockets in full rebuild mode, and a number of players expressing their dissatisfaction with the direction and leadership of the Rockets franchise -- including Morey -- Schiller declares Moreyball "dead" and offers an autopsy. According to Schiller, Morey's advanced stat-driven "rapid asset acquisition" plan, which saw players as little more than a sum of their stats, backfired in a big way. It failed to take into account chemistry, and the actual emotions of the players as humans, and not just number-producers on a court. It is a smart analysis, and one that I ultimately feel is correct.
The statistically-driven Wages of Wins Journal offers its guess on the effect Steve Nash will have on the Lakers in the coming season. The analysis offers three take-aways: (1) Steve Nash will probably produce 5-7 more wins for the Lakers, which keeps them in the hunt for the 1-3 seed, (2) Nash could possibly make Kobe Bryant, who last year was a below-average per-48 minutes, into a better player, and (3) with Nash on-board, it makes far more sense for the Lakers to keep Bynum and Pau than trade them away. Bad news for those who were excited about a Pau-for-Iggy swap with Philly, or a Drew-for-Dwight swap with Orlando. Good stuff from TWOWJ, as usual.
There is a fine line between "rebuilding" and "retooling", and Kevin Arnovitz shows us how delicately Neil Olshey, the new GM in Portland, walks that line. Arnovitz looks at the strange situation the Blazers find themselves in at the current moment. Arnovitz argues that the Blazers either could use a "retool" -- improvement through "surgical" player acquisition and subtle roster transactions -- or a full-blown "rebuild" that wipes the slate clean and puts the franchise back on square one. The Blazers, as Arnovitz asserts, have put themselves in a difficult spot by offering big money to RFA's like Hibbert, while also offering mixed-messages about their own major RFA, Nic Batum. At the same time, the Blazers must figure out whether to either "retool" the roster around a system created by another coach, or "rebuild" fully and invest in current interim coach Caleb Kanales. It's an interesting look at a team that is struggling to either accept its present circumstances, or actually assess where it's at in today's NBA.
One of FreeDarko's most salient points, and an idea that we focused heavily on during FreeDarko week, was the concept of liberated fandom, which privileges individualism, style and watchability over institutional and geographic allegiances. The articulation of this concept was (retroactively) important for me since it allowed me to explain why, during high school, I became a rabid fan of competent and watchable teams like the Spurs or the Kings come March (or more specifically, the players on those teams) while "my" team, the Golden State Warriors, toiled in a perpetual state of mediocrity and anonymity. It was as if I had entered a secret code into a video game, and suddenly all of the characters and levels were unlocked. After coming out as a liberated fan, I could follow, study and admire individual players regardless of their (or my) obligations to another city or fan base. Fandom had become diffuse, and I was happy to bask in the post-structurelessness of it all.
One of the players I developed a real crush on while I lolled in the most liberated period of my liberated fanhood was Steve Nash. I first became enamored with him while he was beginning to realize his potential with the Mavericks (after a period of being labeled as a "bust" in Phoenix; a period of misanalysis that is rarely discussed), who themselves were beginning to realize their potential as perennial players in the Western Conference. At the time, Steve Nash seemed like the lovable little brother in a rising trio that featured himself, Dirk Nowitzki and Michael Finley. I enjoyed watching him zip around the court, his hair flying behind him, delivering off-balance threes with a distinctive fallaway shot that came straight from his elbow, or hurling pinpoint passes to his two fellow stars, or even his many quality teammates (I really liked the 2003-2004 team which featured Antoine Walker and Antawn Jamison, an all-time favorite former-Warrior who won the Sixth Man award that year). In my 17 year old NBA worldview, there were two styles that defined the White point guard: the John Stockton, a gestapo-like style that adhered to cold, calculated efficiency, and the Steve Nash, a warmer and more enigmatic style that embraced the fun of the game, and made everyone around him into a more aerodynamic (and seemingly more motivated) version of their former selves. I greatly preferred the Nash. Before long, everyone did.
When he went to Phoenix in 2005, and took his game to a new level, he took my fanhood of him to a new level as well. No longer was Steve Nash just a top-shelf point guard who you'd casually include in a casual "which Steve would you rather have, Steve Nash or Steve Francis?" query. Now he was a two-time MVP and rapidly ascending to the Magic-Isiah-Stockton-Cousy level, that "best point guards of all time" level. It felt like I was looking at the guy who used to be my quirky, nerdy friend, who went away to his grandparents' all summer, and came back four inches taller, 20 pounds lighter, and was suddenly getting all the girls while still maintaining his awesome quirkiness and not letting any of his new found popularity go to his head. His Suns team was revolutionizing the way teams played basketball, revolutionizing the ways we watched basketball, and even revolutionizing the way people talked basketball. No really, they did. Because of Steve Nash, and SSOL's esoteric exuberance (in particular, the brilliant play of Leandro Barbosa) FreeDarko found a subject of analysis to aid in its rise to prominence. Because of Steve Nash, Joe Johnson, Amar'e Stoudemire, Boris Diaw, and Shawn Marion all got to pad their career stats, and were all paid handsomely. Because of Steve Nash, Mike D'Antoni became known as an offensive wizard, and scored sweet jobs with the Knicks and USA Basketball. Because of Steve Nash, Grant Hill, Tim Thomas and Shaquille O'Neal received a new leases on life. Because of Steve Nash, Phoenix was a contender; one of the big boys. For a long time there, it didn't seem like it was a matter of if the Suns style of bombastic, liberated play would net Phoenix, and its most famous resident Steve Nash, a championship. Rather, it seemed like a matter of when.
But things didn't work out; we know this now. Otherwise, we wouldn't be where we are today. But if Steve Nash was disappointed about the way things were going towards the end, we wouldn't have known. Steve Nash took elbows to the face from Robert Horry, and took an ill-timed suspension from David Stern, largely in stride. And even in the wake of that improbable, bittersweet run to the 2010 Western Conference Finals -- Steve and Amar'e's last stand in the defense of SSOL's efficacy -- Nash seemed sad, but ultimately accepting of his team's six game defeat. Indeed, Nash's ability to accept what the Suns had become since he signed a two year, $20 million dollar deal after that 2010 run was the major theme of the previous two seasons. The Suns continued along a fairly respectable path because Steve Nash could accept. Accept that Amar'e was going to walk because Robert Sarver was a cheapskate, accept that they would spend the equivalent of a max contract for the services of Hakim Warrick, Hedo Turkoglu and Josh Childress, accept that his best teammates were going to be Marcin Gortat, Jared Dudley and Grant Hill, accept that it just wasn't going to work out as planned. He learned to accept, until his contract ended, and he didn't have to accept it anymore.
And now, Steve Nash is a Laker. A fucking Los Angeles fucking Laker. Face, meet palm.
The hardest part about this whole new arrangement is that, from the perspective of a liberated fan, there might not have been a better fit for Nash than the Los Angeles Lakers. None of the presumed landing spots for Nash seemed like a particularly good fit for either Steve Nash the basketball player, or the liberated fans of Steve Nash the basketball player. The incomprehensibly ignorant (and distinctly American) assertion that Steve Nash, who hails from Victoria in British Columbia would choose to play for the rebuilding Toronto Raptors simply because its Canada never seemed to have any legitimacy (probably because it seemed too boneheaded and nativist). Similarly, the Portland Trail Blazers, who are also in full-fledged rebuild mode under new general manager Neil Olshey, didn't seem like a particularly good or natural fit for the final years of Nash's career. The New York Knicks, who are trying every avenue possible to build a good team (except, you know, draft the right players, develop the right talent, make the right trades and sign free agents that they intend to actually use), didn't deserve the services of Steve Nash. And even the Mavericks, who are quickly finding themselves in a swelling creek of shit with nary a paddle in sight, wouldn't have benefitted greatly from the play of the still spectacular but unquestionably diminished point guard. Sure, he would've helped. But he wouldn't have been the piece to make up for everything Chandler, Barea and Kidd provided.
No, Steve Nash is now a Laker. And as hard as it is to admit, the Lakers provided everything a liberated fan of Steve Nash would want to see. Steve Nash joins an already established group of veterans who have played together for a number of years, and who have the talent to go to the finals. And even though Nash's presence doesn't guarantee that the Lakers will be any more brilliant offensively, it doesn't seem likely that he's going to hurt. Ramon Sessions provided a brief, imperfect glimpse of what a true point guard can do for the Lakers in a Mike Brown system. I'd expect Nash to do an exponentially better job than Sessions did as Mike Brown's quarterback.
And as a liberated fan of Nash, I would be lying if I wasn't interested in what his presence did for the culture of the Lakers, who have existed rather uneasily in the Kobe dynasty since 2004. Kobe hasn't had a teammate with as much gravitas as Nash since Shaq -- Nash is a two-time MVP, and eliminated Kobe from the playoffs three years in a row. Though he has made great strides in recent years, Kobe still has had a hard time ceding control, and his occasionally selfish play can be detrimental towards the chemistry and composition of the Lakers. At the same time, Lakers players occasionally grow wary of Kobe's moodiness, and perhaps fail to play their hardest to spite him. Having a player of Nash's caliber provides the first ever "Good Cop" figure who can stand alongside Kobe, and whose leadership will be taken seriously. Bynum cannot fill that role, and Pau chooses not to. Steve Nash may help the Lakers play and seem more like those lovable Suns of the mid 2000s. And maybe he'll make Kobe seem more warm and fuzzy.
Steve Nash provides the Lakers a chance to add scores of liberated fans to their vibrant but maligned army. Our love was never with the Phoenix Suns, the laboratory where the Steve Nash we marvel at today was perfected. Phoenix could've been Dallas, or Milwaukee, or New Jersey, or even Vancouver (could Nash have saved professional basketball in British Columbia?). It would've happened somewhere, and we all would've marveled at what Steve Nash was able to become at a fairly advanced state in his career. But it happened in Phoenix, with Mike D'Antoni, Alvin Gentry and Amar'e Stoudemire, and it was a lot of fun while it lasted. And now, those who loved those times, and loved the man who made the whole SSOL party possible, will appreciate him in a new way as he helps soften the influence of Kobe, reinvents Pau, and hopefully raises the production (and calms the minds) of Metta World Peace and Andrew Bynum. The Lakers are getting a great chance at a makeover, and have been assigned a stylist who will change the way we think about them, institutionally and individually.
And, as LeVar Burton would assure us, you don't have to take my word for it. Even the non-liberated fans are on board. As I was writing this piece in a coffee shop in Seattle, a guy with a Suns Nash jersey walked in and sat down. After awhile, I approached him, explained that I was an NBA blogger (eliciting a snort from a lady behind me), and asked if I could take his picture. He agreed. I asked him what he thought about the trade, and if he was a Suns fan. He said he was (he was from the Phoenix area), and on the trade...well, he had given it a shot in Phoenix. He had given them just about all he could give, and now it was time to focus on winning one before all was said and done. True enough. But the Lakers? A tough pill to swallow, but it provided a good chance to win a championship, so -- so be it.
And that's how it should be. In an NBA where individuality is championed, and windows of opportunity are short, we cannot dwell on this too much longer. As liberated fans, we must look at this as a chance to reinvent and add new works of art to an already impressive portfolio, even if the work comes with a franchise that occasionally deserves our disdain. But even that franchise is imperfect. Even that franchise needs a makeover. This is a good fit. And that's just how it is.
Reading Jacob’s FMFUF piece on the Denver Nuggets inspired
me to begin writing an article that has been brewing in depths of my mind for
some time now. In case you missed it (scroll up and read it) the main argument
presented is that a photograph, rather than a statistic or record, is a more
pure and meaningful metric of analyzing a terrific athletic performance. I
agree wholeheartedly with this line of thinking and feel that the logic behind
it suggests some other interesting findings. I want to take a look at how and
why we compare athletes who played in different eras and highlight how
ridiculous this process can be.
“LeBron is great but he’ll never touch Jordan”
“Verlander throws heat but Nolan Ryan was just unbelievable”
“Peterson can run but
Walter Payton was simply immaculate”
Ugh. Enough.
Before I get into this any further I want to make it clear
that I love statistics. They fascinate me. I loved the statistics course I took
as an undergraduate, I believe Moneyball is 200 pages of utter brilliance, and
as I begin my Masters program I look forward to examining the complicated field
of biostatistics further. I don’t need
to explain to you how or why statistics are important in sports. You already
know. Stats are the basis for how we evaluate talent; which in turn creates the
market for where an athlete’s salary should be set. Don’t believe me? Ask a minority-owner of the Brooklyn Nets what HE thinks.
The study of statistics is so valuable because it can
provide unbiased quantitative analysis for essentially anything you can
possibly imagine. It’s a disciplined, technical, and at times tedious process
that yields data that can be argued is fail-proof.
So, with that given, why is it so damn hard to decipher the
best athletes of all time? We have the stats, which we agree are the most
credible way to evaluate an athlete, for every basketball player in the modern
era leading me to believe that a simple internet search should tell me who the
best player of all time is. But alas…
So here we are. Jordan or LeBron? The most objective and
telling statistics for determining the best all around basketball player (I
believe) are points scored, rebounds, and assists.
Michael Jordan’s Career Numbers:
30.1 PPG 6.2 RPG 5.3 APG
LeBron James’ Career Numbers:
27.6 PPG 7.2 RPG 6.9
APG
Right. So. Jordan was a better scorer but LeBron is a better
overall player? Clearly we have an insufficient amount of data and more metrics
are going to be needed to answer this in a more complete manner. Let’s take a
look at the next 2 categorical statistics people point to when having this same
argument.
Up first – how many rings a player has.
Michael Jordan: 6
LeBron James: 1*
Obviously this
statistic is fixed for Jordan but has an asterisk next to James due to the fact
that he’s still an active player.
As an extremely concrete and logical thinker this metric seems
rather insignificant. The question at hand is who is the better NBA player of all time and this measurement
is 100% indicative of the effort of an entire team and coaching staff. Statistics are such an effective tool
specifically because they aim to limit as many external factors as possible,
and using a statistic gathered from a team effort is inherently littered with external
factors. Karl Malone and Sir Charles
both had incredible individual careers without ever winning a championship. Dan
Marino was one of the best quarterbacks the NFL has ever seen, and he ended his
career without winning a Super Bowl. When you’re looking at a professional
league, in which every participating team has a roster filled with the best
talent in the world, it is simply outrageous to demand that one player must be
apart of (and most people seem to demand, lead) a championship team.
Therefore the 6 rings to 1* says little about the individual
play and more about how good the team was relative to its competition at the
time. That’s not exactly hard-hitting evidence.
After the ring issue has been deliberated over ad nauseam it’s
usually followed up with how many MVP awards Jordan and LeBron have. Once
again, the numbers
Michael Jordan: 5 Regular Season MVP Awards
LeBron James: 3* Regular Season MVP Awards
I have excluded NBA Finals MVP Awards predominantly for the
reasons listed above and also because they’re selected so hastily and
emotionally. All-Star MVPs…psh, that and $7.00 gets you a small (tall) Starbucks
coffee.
Winning the most valuable player award is an incredible feat
worthy of much respect and praise. On the surface it seems like a totally
viable measurement to use while comparing different players. However, consider
what winning the most valuable player award in a given year really means:
If I’m voted MVP it means that a group of sports writers have decided that during the
regular season of one specific year I had the most value to my team and
in the league.
There are at least 2 vital aspects given in this definition
that have an entropic nature rendering the comparisons moot:
(1) The group of
writers, despite their best journalistic abilities, always have some sort of
bias and the panel is not constant.
(2) The overall nature of the league is
constantly changing, little by little, each year.
Therefore, it’s rationally
impossible to compare the winner of the 1980 MVP and 2012 MVP. Imagine what a
player with LeBron’s skill set would have managed to accomplish in the NBA in 1980? Conversely, would Kareem (1980 NBA MVP) have be as dominant with his skill set in 2012?
Alright. So what’s my point? I’m not suggesting we should
halt these comparisons completely. I’m simply suggesting we alter the
framework for which we have them in. Instead of imploring your friend at the
bar to concede that MJ was the greatest of all time, and will never be topped, talk about where you were when you watched him
drain that buzzer beater against Utah in 1997 finals. Talk about what you feel
and experience when you witness LeBron or Kobe play the game. These feelings,
these emotions, are the truest “measurements” we have in sports and are always
looming at the heart of these “who’s the best of all time” debates.
No matter how much statistical data you gather and
juxtapose, when it comes to comparing greatness in sports, the human mind will
always trump numbers with an ultra-personal visceral reaction. And you know
what? That’s what makes sports so wonderful.
Eat a fattie, ESPN! Those couch-lickers already copyrighted "buy or sell" for that show that used to be good. So we had to come up with something that wouldn't get us sued. I hear Howard Cossack is ruthless when he's in heat. We at The Diss came up with: "Purchase or Pass". But to make it grammatically correct, it's gotta be "Purchase or Pass on". And then I'm ending that sentence with a preposition, which is an awful thing to look at. Fuck! I did it again.
Anyways, our Diss-cussants purchase or pass on some of the more notable free agent signings that have been inked since the whole shindig started this past Sunday. Also, Dave Gold and Brian Swann enter the fray. That's fun. Let's get to it.
1. Purchase or Pass on: Deron Williams to the Brooklyn Nets (5 years, $100 million).
Omar Bagnied: Purchase. He's a franchise player, no doubt. Proficient scorer, superior court vision to find the open guy, and big enough to grab plenty of rebounds. If Dwight signs with Brooklyn, then look out for this team. Really. They'll have superstars at the two positions you build a franchise around, point guard and center. Add a great scorer in Joe Johnson, who was out of place as the team leader in Atlanta but shone as a third option scorer in Phoenix, and an explosive swingman who plays really good defense in Gerald Wallace, and you have a legit shot at a title.
Brian Swann: Purchase. There's only 3-4 other point guards in the league you'd want ahead of him (Paul, Westbrook, Rose and maybe Rondo when he's hitting his jumper).
Long Bui: Purchase. Dude's a stud. Compared to JJ, you're getting a deal here. Plus your owner's a billionaire. This is pocket change. Purchase without remorse.
Dave Gold: I'm purchasing. If resigning Williams allows them to get a big three with Dwight then this is a great move. They'll be the anti-Heat, meaning they are strong in all the areas the Heat are weak (Center, Point Guard, 3PT), if I can call the Heat weak.
Luke Hasskamp: The logical answer is pass. The league is littered with so many bad contracts, and this smells a lot like them. I'm just playing the odds. Sure, it could work out, but history tells us that it likely will not. This is money you pay to a Top 5 player, and Williams just isn't that. He's a 28 year old who has played in just 44 career playoff games with a 19-25 record. He was in the conference finals once, back in 2007. In '08, '09 and '10 he never made it past the second round, courtesy of the Lakers. For that kind of money, you'd expect greater success. In reality, however, the answer is purchase. The Nets have a billionaire owner for whom money is no object. Williams is a very talented and popular player who has encountered essentially no seriously injury during his career, so he should be around for a while. Plus, you're trying to lure some other major talent to the city, so who gives a damn about the luxury tax?
2. Purchase or Pass on: Omer Asik to the Houston Rockets (3 years, $24.5 million).
Omar Bagnied: Pass. Don't get me wrong, he's a valuable commodity as a defensive big man. But if Houston signs him he's likely to start. And this guy has no offensive game. I root for Turks, so I hope he develops one over the summer, but for what he's shown so far he's duping whoever pays him $8.2 million a year.
Brian Swann: Pass. This is tough, as I am a sucker for players who can deliver quality minutes without the ball. But this is WAY too much for someone that will likely get 25 minutes a night.
Long Bui: Purchase. 25 for 3 is not terrible in these truly outrageous times. You're minimizing risk with a shorter deal and I guess Omer is decently athletic and he certainly is tall. In any case, considering the absurd contracts handed out to very marginal big men (think Dampier, Erick; the Custodian, Mr. Brian Cardinal; and Haywood, B.) this contract registers a "Whatever" on the "What Would Isiah Do?" scale, which is basically a good heuristic to govern all GMs, just do the opposite. Purchase, and move on.
Dave Gold: Pass. $8 million a year on a bench player who is probably over valued because of his height. He is no Hedo Turkoglu.
Luke Hasskamp: Pass. They love their centers in Houston, apparently too much. We may be entering an era where big men don't fit into elite offenses like they used to. Smaller, faster teams seem to be the next BIG thing, and Asik just doesn't fit that mold. Also, stat line: 3.1 points, 5.3 rebounds and 1.0 blocks in 14.7 minutes this season. Sounds a lot like fan favorite Mark "Mad Dog" Madsen, who I doubt earned $25 million in his entire 9 year career.*
3. Purchase or Pass on: Roy Hibbert to the Portland Trail Blazers (4 years, $58 million).
Omar Bagnied: Purchase. But at $14.5 million a year, just barely. What he needs to do is get more aggressive. Other than that he's 7'2'', blocks shots on the regular, has a good offensive game and will average a double-double.
Brian Swann: Purchase. Hibbert continued to improve this year, though that seems odd to type that given that he averaged 13 points, 9 rebounds and 3 blocks a game. I would at least want 17, 12 and 3 if I'm paying him almost $15 million a season. But one hopes his steady improvement leads him to those sorts of stats, and one hopes that the Big Man Curse of the Blazers passes over Hibbert.
Long Bui: Purchase. You're the Blazers, and this isn't 1999. Don't kid yourself; you're not a premier FA destination so if Roy freakin' Hibbert wants to sign with you, you give him anything he wants. Purchase and throw away the receipt.
Dave Gold: Pass. While centers are always a hard position to fill with elite players, Hibbert is not an elite player. He can rebound and block, but is not a max contract player you build your franchise around.
Luke Hasskamp: Pass. A lot of what I said about Asik applies here: centers just aren't as valuable in the league as currently constituted. With that said, Hibbert is a very good player, and he showed a lot of spirit during the playoffs this season. He's also only 25 years old who seems quite durable for a big man. But still, the Blazers are basically offering him the exact same contract Kevin Love received, and Hibbert is no Kevin Love. He's worth good money, but not this much.
4. Purchase or Pass on: Landry Fields to the Toronto Raptors (3 years, $19 million).
Omar Bagnied: Purchase. Here I'm assuming that Steve Nash signs with Toronto. We saw what Fields could do playing with a true point guard in Jeremy Lin. $6.3 million a year may seem like too much, and I get it if others would pass on this, but he's young and I like what I've seen of his scoring ability and unselfishness. Nash is likely gone after a couple seasons, but Fields will gain confidence and I like him as a piece for Toronto's future.
Brian Swann: Pass. He regressed this past year. While his defensive skills are valuable, there's no way he's worth $19 million.
Long Bui: Umm...purchase. Colangelo, I think this is more about messing with the Knicks than anything revelatory Fields will do on the court in the next three years. Ruins the sign and trade deal for Nash and basically any chance New York gets Lin, Novak and Fields together. I like it. And even if Fields was a sack of bricks (Jonny Flynn anyone?), 20 over three, whatever, purchase, move on, and laugh at the Knicks.
Dave Gold: Purchase. This seems like a good deal for the Raptors (based on a weak FA class and based on the ridiculous contracts other players are getting [years and dollars]), but I am shocked at how poor Landry shot this year. He doesn't appear to be good at shooting 3 pointers and has a horrid FT% for a shooting guard. Toronto is counting on 2012 being a sophomore slump. The dude went to Stanford, and seems to have some upside, but do the Raptors really need him?
Luke Hasskamp: Purchase. This is a very good deal for a player of Fields' skill and potential. (Seriously, he'll be making less money than Omer Asik!). Fields is a guy who got lost in New York when dudes names Carmelo and Lin showed up on the scene. There just wasn't enough to go around with the Knicks, but in Canada he has the potential to flourish, or at least become a viable Fantasy option, which should be a priority. It's still a gamble, but if it doesn't work out, this isn't a contract that comes back to haunt the Raptors.
5. Anything else?
Omar Bagnied: I'm not done talking about the Nets. With Dwight, they can beat Miami. The NYC market is more attractive to complementary players than Miami as there are more financial opportunities to supplement their low [relative] salaries. Furthermore, they'd be playing with an exceptional point guard who can get them the ball in good spots, maximizing their output. Brooklyn's anchors will be at center and point guard, the two positions most likely to pass, and with Joe Johnson you have an unselfish shooting guard. If I'm a role player choosing between Brooklyn and Miami, I'm choosing Brooklyn.
Brian Swann: BONUS! Eric Gordon. Purchase. If he stays healthy, he's a bargain.
Jacob Greenberg: What's this * doing here? Oh yeah. Mark Madsen. According to HoopsHype, Mark Madsen earned about $15.8 million in his career. The more you know.
Sanctity in sports can be represented in two ways: by a record, or by a picture.
Records, of course, provide us with statistical evidence of an unprecedented feat. If we choose to look at the numbers in a favorable way, we can see a magnificent storyline build up over time, slowly gaining momentum until it reaches a gloriously dramatic apex. Peyton Manning's single season record of 49 touchdowns, Barry Bonds' 73 single-season (and 762 total career) home runs, Cy Young's 511 wins, Emmitt Smith's 18,355 career rushing yards, and Wayne Gretzky's 894 goals all stand alone, etched into record books, and committed to rote memory through endless telling and retelling by fans and journalists alike. These numbers are sacred and almost iconic -- pillars that can provide benchmarks for individual excellence, and fantastic memories for those who can remember all of the whos, whats, whens, wheres, and whys pertaining to a specific achievement.
Pictures, on the other hand, provide us with visual evidence of the feat. Though they lack the hard, concrete infallibility that a lofty number presents, pictures evoke emotions that a statistical record cannot. One cannot look at the picture above, (or pictures from a variety of othersports), and not immediately be drawn to the exact time and place that the picture captures, or at the very least, what thing (or things) the picture represents. Though it is just an image depicting a single moment in time, pictures move and speak, emit noise and stimulate the senses. They provide windows to the past in a way that a singular number cannot -- we can easily compare and contrast time periods and individuals, and either appreciate (or lament) how far we've really come. While visual representations of the past lack the analytical stability that a number provides, they are far more effective as tools to provoke discussion and evoke memory.
For me, worshipping the sanctity of a picture -- a representation of the past that we can see -- is preferable to worshipping the sanctity of a record. Records have not stood the test of time well. This is not surprising, once we consider the the oft-cited byline that goes along with records; that they're made to be broken. This phrase is uttered almost reflexively, like it's the the appropriate response in a child's call-and-response game. But records are broken, and many times, under dubious, uncontrollable circumstances. Take baseball, for example. Mark McGuire's 70 homeruns, as well as Barry Bonds' 73, have been received with unfortunate scrutiny because of the transgressions of the record holders. Their sanctity is tainted and unassured -- indeed, Roger Maris' 61 seem newly rarified, given what we now know about the hitters of the Steroids Era. Or, consider basketball. Though Kobe's 81 points represent an incredible individual achievement (the second most points scored by a player in a single NBA game ever) , looking fully at that record-breaking stat-line tells an unfortunate tale of selfishness and individualism. How else can you look at a player who hoists up 46 shots and records only two assists in 42 minutes? With records, there is always more to consider, and frankly, more that we must consider before we offer an assessment, and attempt an original argument. A picture allows for both expository analysis and, in some cases, baseless assertion, since the analytical focus is on the emotion of the moment, rather than the statistical importance of event.
The properties of time will not allow us to recreate moments. While someone may score 100 points in a game someday (though it's very doubtful), it will never take away the moment that it happened, and someone handed Wilt a piece of paper to hold up. Similarly, someone will someday steal 1,407 bases, and break Rickey Henderson's record of 1,406, but the moment that Henderson exuberantly and flamboyantly stole 939 will live forever. And while thousands of black athletes have represented the United States in the Olympics, and made statements about racial politics through the performance of sport, none will be as iconic as Tommie Smith and John Carlos, whose raised fists at the 1968 Summer Olympics became symbolic of (and for) a militant activist movement, as well as the larger history that necessitated such a movement. Though the moments that these pictures capture have been, at least objectively speaking, been rendered obsolete (or, at the very least, diluted) either by changed standards for excellence, reassessments of the level of competition, or simply the inexorable march of time, they manage to survive as important relics of the past, and in many ways, continue to live on and take on new meanings as history progresses in unexpected, and often uncomfortable directions.
Which brings me to the 1993-1994 Denver Nuggets, and the most fortunate moment in their largely nondescript history in the NBA.
I don't know a lot about the 1993-1994 Denver Nuggets. I know they were led by Dikembe Mutombo, Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf, Robert Pack and LaPhonso Ellis, and coached by (the now maligned) Dan Issel. They finished 42-40 and were the 8th seed in the playoffs that year, and though they probably underwent all sorts of trials and tribulations to even qualify for the postseason, I am not privy to those facts. Similarly, I also don't know a ton about the Seattle Supersonics from that year. They featured Gary Payton and Shawn Kemp, both of whom were entering the best years of their careers. They were coached by George Karl, and won 63 games that season. I would imagine that they were favored to win the championship that year, given that they were the best team in the (first of three) post-Jordan era(s). It looks like a lot of 1-8 matchups we've seen over the years.
Moreover, I don't know a lot about this first round series. There have already been a number of excellent accounts written about that series, and I will not recount what has already been adequately chronicled. The cliff-notes would say that the Sonics won the first two games handily at home, before the Nuggets turned the series around and won three straight games. The final two games of the series were apparently thrillers -- both went into overtime, with the Nuggets eking out narrow victories in each of the contests. The Nuggets victory in the deciding fifth game in Seattle produced a record: the first time an eight-seed defeated a one-seed in an opening round playoff series, a record that has been broken a number of times since then. Given that ESPN.com didn't exist in 1994, and that I didn't take the time to delve into the digital archives from either of the Denver or Seattle newspapers, I have no idea how seriously that record was taken, and where it ranked in the pantheon of "great individual and team records in the history of professional sports." I was nine at the time, and cannot reasonably comment on this.
But here's what I do know: when the Denver Nuggets finally defeated the Seattle SuperSonics in a thrilling 98-94 overtime that pivotal fifth game at the long-destroyed King Dome, Dikembe Mutombo grabbed the ball and fell to the parkay floor, his hands clasped around the orange orb, his arms outstretched, his eyes closed in ecstacy, and his mouth ajar with excitement. Cameramen crowded around the Congolese behemoth, who at that moment, seemed to be in a world unto himself, and bathed him in a slurry of flashbulbs. He and his Nuggets had done what, up that point, had been impossible: they had unseated the top seed in the Western Conference, and were on their way to face the Houston Rockets in the second round of the playoffs. It was, without a doubt, the most fortunate moment in the history of an unfortunate franchise. It was a moment that would live forever, and would take on thousands of meanings for thousands of different peoples.
Since 1994, this record has been broken a number of times. The Knicks took out the Heat in the first round of the 1999 playoffs, the Warriors unseated the Mavs in 2007, the Grizzlies beat the Spurs in 2011, and, only a few weeks ago, in May 2012, the Sixers dispatched the (wounded) Bulls. With each upset, the formerly sanctified record becomes more and more diluted, and now sits before us like aging fast food soda, perspiring wildly in a plastic-coated cardboard cup, housing failing bodies of ice that have melted enough to create a thickish layer of cold water on top of what was once syrupy-sweet goodness. Likewise, the sweetness of the 1-8 upset has been diminished. Bracket-busting no longer causes fans and pundits to dramatically reconsider historical trajectories, nor does it produces angst as it muddles a nice, neat narrative. It is something that is now considered possible, seeing as how important confidence, health, momentum and matchups are for a playoff club.
But the visual representation of the time that this wonderful upset first happened? The ball over Diek's head? That is a fortunate moment for the Denver Nuggets that will last forever.
Here at The Diss we talk a lot about the Stadium Issue, and for good reason. The Stadium Issue is a portal into the (often ugly) core of the business of sports. Nowhere else do we see the owner and league’s raw desire to succeed than when they are trying to bilk a city and a fan base out of hundreds of millions, not even on the court or field.
In that vein, last season NBA owners locked out the players, citing a litany debts and outrageous costs as part of an argument for a complete restructuring of the Collective Bargaining Agreement. One of the major changes to the CBA was reducing the length of all future contracts. This was a big win for the owners, as it significantly reduces the amount of guaranteed money tied up in player contracts. What is conveniently left out is that a. Players are getting paid more money because the success of basketball as a whole, and b. The only entity to blame for unfortunately long contracts are the owners themselves.
Every year the salary cap is determined by a formula that primarily takes into account revenue earned by the league in the past year. Thus, if the salary cap rises (and owners have the ability to spend more money on players) it is only because the previous season the league increased its revenue, which I hope is seen as a good thing. And when the owners were given the ability spend more money, it was their own damn fault that they did such. a. poor. job.
In the owners defense, the free agent period has only been open a little over 24 hours, and we are already seeing that they were right to demand a change to the CBA to save them from themselves. The length of contracts might be lower than in years past, but the stupidity is at an all-time high. Portland offering Roy Hibbert a max contract? Toronto offering Steve “I Don’t Have a Functioning Back Because Somebody Removed All of the Defensive Bones” Nash $36 million? The Nets signing Gerald Wallace for $40 million dollars AND pursuing Joe Johnson’s max contract? OMER ASIK making $8.5 million a year? And those are the good players in this free agent class that are actually worth shelling out money for (but, if it not obvious, not nearly as much as they are reportedly being offered), what is going to happen when we get to the scrubs? Is somebody going to give Anthony Randolph $18 million? Who is going to get an Austin Croshere contract?
I’m excited to have a full offseason and everything it includes (free agency period, Summer League, training camp), and I especially enjoy laughing mirthlessly at incompetent front offices. I mean, is the supply of quality centers so dearth that Roy Hibbert gets a max contract? I guess Andris Biedrins isn’t that overpaid afterall. But next time you hear an owner begging for hundreds of million public-dollars to build a stadium, remember that these are the same ruthless bastards that locked us out of an offseason and 15 games of basketball for the privilege of offering Brandon “I Retired Because of Catastrophic Knee Injuries” Roy the full mid-level exception.
In this piece from the eve of the draft, Henry Abbott reminds us about the importance of the draft not only for bad teams, but also for playoff teams. Abbott uses the example of Avery Bradley, whose absence in the playoffs might have made a difference in the Heat-Celtics ECF series, to highlight the difference between well-run organizations and their poorly-managed counterparts. Abbott argues that the best teams manage organizations where young, midrange draftees (like Avery Bradley, who went 21st in 2010) are able to find important roles that can be mastered relatively quickly. Poor teams, on the other hand, rely on the draft to provide "the engine" and engineer wins on their own. It's a well argued piece, and important to consider when assessing the ongoing success of late first round (and early second round) picks who play important roles on contending teams.
Andre Drummond is the subject of a strange but interesting piece from veteran Pistons blogger Dan Feldman. Feldman paints an interesting picture of draft night for Drummond, who was selected ninth by Detroit. Feldman asserts that based upon the Pistons' mixed results in terms of player development, Drummond shouldn't be thought of as a surefire thing. But, in the limited context of draft night, Feldman writes that we should be impressed with Drummond, based on the way he interacted with NBA staffers and media members on his important night. It's an interesting picture of hope and excitement, tempered with the skepticism and realism that only the fan of a bad team can have. It's a compelling read, especially for those who are fans of teams as hopeless (in the short-term) as the Pistons.
Tell it, Danny. The newest piece in an amazing collection of posthumous (playing career-wise) recounts, Danny Manning of Jayhawks and No. 1 overall pick fame gives us his perspective of his time as a player. Things of note: Danny stayed all four years at Kansas (and has a degree), was coached by one Larry Brown, and sucked at football (but let's be honest, he sucked, relatively). We get his reflections on what it was like to start a career with a career-threatening injury and the lengths he went to get back in the game. A solid read, certainly worthy of bathroom consideration, and gives added dimension to a player in world we often perceive as filled with stock characters. So is he, or is he not, a bust? I leave that up to you.
What's the best way to back up your strong words about the inefficacy of assessing "winners" and "losers" of the NBA draft? Recommend a good post that, through the A-F grading system, picks out draft winners and losers! If you are a person that needs to see a team "grade", as well as a proclamation asserting whether a team made a good or bad decision about a pick, this is the best site to do that. TWOWJ consistently has the best statistically driven basketball analysis out there, so you can trust these guys. I just hope they're wrong about the Dubs' Harrison Barnes pick (they see him as an inefficient scorer in the bigs, similar to Monta Ellis).
As a fan of the blogosphere (as well as a quasi-member of said blogosphere), one never likes to read these type of posts. But Evil Ted, who, with a writer named "Bawful", started Basketbawful back in early 2005, has announced that he is closing up shop. The post itself encapsulates the joys and frustrations of managing a basketball blog, and comments on the time commitments and levels of dedication needed to maintain an independent journalistic project with no compensation other than the satisfaction knowing others are reading your work. This saddens me -- Basketbawful, as well as FreeDarko, were among the orignal NBA esoterica blogs that gained unprecedented popularity in 2006 and 2007. Though I had stopped visiting the site regularly, their early work influenced me greatly. I will miss Basketbawful dreadfully, and wish Evil and Bawful the best in their future endeavors.
.JPG)
.JPG)
