Friends are Disappointing

Read Shoals' post below.

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

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

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

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



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

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



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

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

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



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

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

Under the Drain, Looking Up

I really could care less what happens in about an hour and a half. These whole playoffs, I've been trying to figure out how to write about "aura" without sounding either New Age-y or Benajmin-obsessed. In some ways, it boils down to the more acceptable "star quality," which I think I've thrown about at times. But it's about more than that. It cuts deeper, and gets to the very quidital heart of why these games have the power to transfix us.

I've always felt that one of the reasons people hate Kobe so much is that not only has he ripped off Jordan, but he's also mastered MJ's absolute mastery of the moment. And at this point, saying it rings hollow reflects back on you, the viewer, and turns you into the bitter, callous, unfeeling cynical zombie. Like that elimination game against Utah: Absolutely pitch-fucking-perfect. The ebb and flow of aggression, the amped-up sideline leadership, the obvious delight in the rolling team game, and down the stretch, those two neck-slicers in the face of a crowd that, even if 19,900 of them aren't totally crass, still are college-ugly. That was a champion's game, executed with real feeling and unmistakable panache. In its way, it was even more perfect than last year's LeBron-ocaust. It certainly topped James's performance earlier on Friday.

This isn't the same old "wants badly to win, heart of a champion" axis. It's not just "taking the game on your back when it counts." With Kobe, or Chris Paul, or Deron Williams, there's a sense throughout that they're both desperate and dignified, smacking back the slightest specter of dread while operating a level perceptibly higher than everyone else. This is stardom not only in name, or in numbers, but in end-to-end presence. We expect nothing less than execution, since they carry themselves like it's going to happen from the jump.



And here's why Celtics/Cavs is dead to me. We've lost all faith. We're sitting around waiting for proof, for pay-off, but long ago forgot how to turn on a game and feel an implicit promise wash over us. Now, we are in the realm of cold facts, talking points, rationality, and all the other drab stuff that, ironically, has the ring more of justification or clawed-in legitimization. Searching for energerization. It's the same route mortals have to follow, or the life support scrum of those falling from power, like what you routinely hear about the Spurs or Pistons (those who need talk the most. . . ). And sorry, but if we've gotten there, both LeBron and the Celtics have blown their otherworldly m.o.

Could one game transform all that? Would it take 60 points from LeBron? 20 in the first? One OT, or two? Does Garnett need a triple-double, or will the Big Three only ride again when we also get Pierce chipping in 30 and a fourth quarter from hell? See, just the fact that we're there shows that the dream has died. As criteria rear their ugly head, there's been a fall from grace, back into the realm of mortality and quite ordinary, non-resonant bean-counting. Or you can just decide that the Celtics really are older than we thought.

Some McLaughlin Group thoughts: Gene Page is wearing a tie with 45 adapter all over it. These people are greatly underestimating American Jews' intelligence, and willingness to actually read past the headline? Or at very least, that those with Israel tunnel vision know that country's history, and know about shit like Egypt. It's an insult to my people, even the ones who are old and borderline Republican, when we're talked about as so easily duped.



ADDENDUM: Upon having facts to examine...

I'm still not backing off this supremely dour post I wrote just before tip-off.

That was two scorers trading baskets and making their best effort to guard each other, despite neither being a top defender. No Big Three on the rampage, just Pierce working on LeBron. Garnett was limp and Allen on the bench. No James against world, either. Seemed to me like, once LeBron got space or got past Pierce, today he had no more trouble scoring against Boston than any other team that haphazardly throws people at him. This was also the absolute worst the rest of the Cavs have played, except for Delonte, so it's not like he was catching them off guard.

Except for that breakaway dunk, I never got chills or thought "something impossible could go down."

The Celtics, they might as well have been the Cavs, if you look at the box score. Nice to see Pierce get his once again, because this is the kind of player he is. But he was "hot", not dominant. Same for LeBron, actually. This was two guys trading baskets, taking advantage of opportunities, and never really appearing to overcome much of anything.

Try and write a script for this fucker and you'd be asleep in five minutes. And no way this even belongs in the same category as Carter/Iverson 2001 or Bron/Arenas 2006. Those were scorers' duels that really felt like battles for world supremacy, had a momentum to them, and also, of course, took place over an entire series. This was rote. Impressive, maybe, but rotely impressive.

I'm beginning to think that all of this is just me refusing to say I was wrong. So I'll stop, but I challenge you: Convince me that this wasn't piling up points out of necessity, the kind of thing that makes us take LeBron's scoring title for granted.

An End to Thick Resistance

I'm really going back and forth on this one. Those offensive fouls were bullshit, but aren't most Spurs flops? The hit on David West was fucked-up and unfortunate, sure. Was it all that different from their usual screening practices? I've become so numb to these two questionable aspects of San Antonio's play that, immediately following the game, I didn't even register outrage. The Spurs did the Spurs, the Hornets were susceptible to it, and it worked. The acting, the hit . . . I've lost the capacity to call them wrong. They happen every year, and at this point, it's pointless to resist or protest. My initial reaction, lame as it sounds, was "well, that's par for the course, not especially malicious or arrogant." At least it wasn't Horry on Nash.

The thing is, I actually find San Antonio quite watchable these days. Manu is brilliant, Parker's directional changes have come into their own and provided a great metaphor for his emergence as someone I don't fervently hate. Oberto passes well. Duncan in small doses allows you to appreciate his impeccable movements. Even more so when he's either perfect or ineffective. However, today the utter resignation I feel toward the Spurs is like never before. It's even gone past the "they win by faith healing" thing I propose on Deadspin.

This team is dirty, disingenuous, sanctimonious, and have conditioned us to expect nothing less, to excuse them, even. The sad thing is, they could probably win games without that element. If you just said "Barry Bonds" to yourself in your head, I won't blame you one bit. And there is totally a media conspiracy to preserve their reputation. The entire lexicon of post-season commentary is designed to lionize their strengths, gloss over their weaknesses, and turn their sins into feats of wonder.

Burp In Rest's Name

The degree of frustration I'm feeling right about now cannot be put into words. But since I can't link up the webcam and dance for all of you, I suppose I set forth on a sloppy, piteous post about these playoffs.

But first, a documentary in two languages (at the same time) about my favorite international prospect. DraftExpress has him going lottery next year. You can draw your own conclusions from the one snippet of court action in this video:



Now, the immediate business. Seriously, I am numb from toes to shoulders. The home court dominance utterly flummoxes all attempts at drama, or odds-defying, or myth-building. Plus, as I've said several times before, shouldn't teams with acid in their step be stoked to play on the road? Not overwhelmed by young confidence, but ready to step up and fight back the city worth of hostiles. That aside, the cold calculus of these playoffs really drains the life out of these games. The Jazz/Lakers games have been the most dramatic, and intense, but in the end, they fall beneath the cruel blade of determinism. Plus, it makes the Celtics' ordained title even more rote.

Once again, the Celtics match the Spurs of yore, but times a thousand.

The home team advantage has short-circuited the very notion of playoff greatness. It's like there's an unseen force deciding these games. A command Chris Paul performance at home is all in the cards; were LeBron to really up his stock, he'd win on the road. You know, like Louis Williams and Rafer Alston managed to against far longer odds. That's what makes it so spooky—this was a problem in the more skewed first round, but not this egregious. Deron Williams is my playoff hero only because he's the one guy struggling mightily against the New Playoff Order. He takes it personally, or missed the memo. West, too, has had some of that, but in his case it's been a stage to prove his real worth. Still running into that large, ordinary wall of law.



So heading into tonight, I plan to leisurely watch the Spurs play clean-up man while snacking and soaking my feet.

NOT speaking of Skeets, and the Hornets, he and I had a conversation some time ago about the alley-oop, and whether it wasn't the most indefensible (in a good way) play on earth. Usually, we think of them as statements of facility, arrogance, or daring. But New Orleans has made it into a key feature of the offense. Not even a variation on cutting and leaping—they genuinely rely on the Paul/Chandler connect. It's the heart of this attack, not an incidental or ornamental feature. The other night, I suddenly realized that there hadn't been one in forever. Suddenly, one happened, the crew proclaimed "first in three games," and the Hornets took off.

That's sublimated style in a nutshell. You could say this is a step back from the Suns or Warriors—after all, there's a lot that's fairly conventional about the Hornets. Or is that same maniac spirit turned into something viable. Chandler is functional, not a looming isotope. Weirdly, there's a seven-footer who spends a lot of time away from the paint but doesn't take jump shots. He just waits to swoop in. Also, the "put your finger on David West" game is through, so what about Chandler? Have you ever noticed how unimpressive his stats are? Yet he comes across not as a hustle, intangibles guy, but rather a dominant defensive big man. It's like his presence alone is a major statement.



What's funny is that so much potential glory awaits in the next round. Lakers/Hornets or Jazz/Hornets would be positively important, I guess, but the pall of "home team wins" really makes we wonder what the purpose of it all is. Inevitability doesn't cheapen play, but it certainly reinforces conventional wisdom, which operates on a broad level and cares little for the more nuanced sparks and parries of, well, style. Competitive and otherwise.

Oh, and for the first time in history, I fully believe in an NBA conspiracy. D'Antoni to New York, then in Beijing, then in a position to woo LeBron. . . you'd have to be an idiot, or from Cleveland, or have some sort of perverse attachment to noble suffering and life in a hole, to not want that. And that's when conspiracies happen: When it's in enough people's interest to put that ominous undercurrent out of me and go with the fun.

I only hope Dolan understands that he's now back in the good graces of Stern.

Okay, out of gas. I'm reading Loose Balls for the first time, and am frankly a little humiliated I never got to it before. For what is Hawks/Bobcats, if not a league of hard-to-assess talents doing amazing things in an empty gym with little or no record of the matter?

Bedroom Jots

Just a few things.

--After watching David West go absolutely bonkers last night, I am wondering if he has legitimately been excluded from the "next great 4" conversation because of his name. We're pretty clear on the fact that the trajectory has gone something like Bob Petit, Dave DeBusschere, (then I started watching basketball), Kevin McHale, Karl Malone, then Duncan (shooing away the likes of Webber, Garnett, and Nowitzki). The 2010s present a question mark that always seems to be a multiple choice between Amare Stoudemire, Elton Brand and Carlos Boozer (on the older and Dukier side of things), Chris Bosh, and Dwight Howard (I refuse to call him a center). Where has West been in this conversation? Yes, he was selected to the all-star team, so he's not exactly "slept on," but the guy is playing like he was undrafted or something. I swear he has been looked over because of his name fails to connote anything of greatness or desire (No Sports Guy).

Bosh sounds like an onomotapoeia for slam dunking the ball or blocking a shot.
Dwight Howard is the name of a Roman God.
Amare Stoudemire is the name of a hall of famer/there is nobody outside of the NBA who actually holds the last name "Stoudemire."
Boozer and Brand both sound like cool verbs that mean "to punish."

David West is the name of a really mediocre middle relief pitcher for who played for the Twins, Mets, and Phillies. The Mets traded him for Frank Viola to the Twins, and before I understood anything about free agency, I was really sad about this.

At any rate, the REAL David West thankfully put himself at the forefront of the power forward conversation last night though. Jesus.

--My favorite recurring play of the playoffs. Somebody tipping an offensive rebound out to the three-point line. Seriously, how much of a momentum killer is this, when a team puts in 20 hard seconds on defense, a shot goes up in a scrum, clanks, and then is immediately batted back out to the top of the key for a reset. Tyson Chandler and Ilgauskas have been the masters of this so far. Just devastating.

--I know it gets discussed ad nauseam, but how much is Inside the NBA simply killing it?

I used to say that if I could be any non-player in the NBA universe, my list (in order) would look something like this:

1. John Canzano
2. Dan Steinberg
3. Mike Brown
4. Sam Mitchell
5. Tex Winters

But nowadays it's not even a question that I would want to be Ernie Johnson more than anybody, except I wouldn't really want to be Ernie Johnson because then Ernie Johnson wouldn't exist. The guy is so great, Kenny has been on fire, and it's really ridiculous how RIGHT Charles Barkley has been about everything this playoffs (I think). I also believe it was Barkley who two years ago really brought the phrase "It's not a series until a hometeam loses" into the public consciousness. Truer words have not been spoken. Not to mention that his rationale for this statement was that bench players don't play as well on the road. The Daniel Gibsons and Julian Wrights of the world really shine on their homecourt, which has been the reason for so much hometeam success during these playoffs.

--Finally, it's a long way to the top, Rodney:

An Economy of Sprinkles

Links to elsewhere today:

-Sporting News column, all about a new D'Antoni theory. Not sure what the Marbury for Diaw and Barbosa rumor does to this. You thoughts?

-Quotemonger, for all the marbles.

-My latest anti-Celtics tirade. FD, but might have been missed.

-More Celtics bitching, about how their city poisoned the Hawks on the eve of Game Seven.

This Is a League of STAND THE FUCK UP AND DANCE!

I have a simple song for all of you, one that unfortunately I just can't shake. In the name of all high gods, why can't the Celtics score more? On the most primal basketball level, you've got Garnett, Pierce, and Allen all on the same team, with a supporting cast just competent enough to not ignore. I know that this Boston team wins like the dickens (until the playoffs), but is there anyone made happy by seeing this trio struggled to each top 15, even on a good night?

I think Barkley said something similar to this, or at least said these two things within the same five-minute window of time: This is not no Big Three. Big Three's drop 20 a piece, easy, on any given night. You know, like Arenas, Jamison, and Butler.

Paul Pierce used to throw up 30 points like it was nothing. Ray Ray would hit threes in his sleep, then throw in some moves to the hoop to cement his star status. And Garnett, even though he never liked scoring, was the nervous center of an offense and always piling up points. Now, this team lives and died by Posey's threes and Rondo's jumper. That's why you take on one Hall of Famers and two borderline cases?



I get all for one and one for all, and that this team is built on functionality. But at the end of the day, a stud is still a stud. There are plenty of points to go around. And damn it, Boston could use them. Like really, how exactly have they all suppressed that instinct to bust loose, to be the star they know themselves to be? It's called asserting yourself, and with talent, it breaks games open. Unless this whole Celtics thing is a conspiracy theory to mask precipitous declines in these three All-Stars games.

We talk a lot about stars and style and all that, and this is a perfect case of why it really matters. Whatever Boston's put together as their plan for the future, it's squelched something in these three stars. They've sacrificed some of that unpredictability, that desire to run shit, that need to overcome everything in their sight.

When I bitched about what Garnett's become in Boston, I was roundly crucified for wanting him to suffer on the tundra, where his myth rose up into the sky like the Northern Lights (which are probably not visible from Minnesota). But watching them now, this team could definitely use a little of the live-wire KG, the slightly out-of-control Pierce, or the suave justice meted out by Allen. I know they want to win, and are convinced they're doing the right thing. I mean, for a minute, the Spurs won like this (though not anymore. . . ).



But they won a little before. And when they did, it came from being stars, from exploiting their talents and allowing themselves to open up and roar. As a matter of fucking course. Why that's so at odds with sticking together and being friends, I have no idea. Commitment to a cause is admirable, but if Boston wants a championship, Garnett, Pierce and Allen need to stand the fuck up and remember who they are. I know there's such a thing as playoff basketball. I also know that three stars and solid support should be whupping LeBron and his valley of knick-knacks.

Unless, of course, they are no longer stars. How you lose that, how it doesn't bubble up at moments like this, is a mystery to me.