After months of
anticipation around the globe, the NBA schedule for next season was finally
released today. You know what that means, dear reader! It’s time to take out
the highlighter and mark your calendar for all the games you JUST CAN’T MISS.
When compiling a list of such games, it is easy to get excited about Thunder
vs. Heat or Celtics vs. Lakers. But to limit yourself to only big market teams
and brand-name stars would demean what the NBA stands for. So, in your better
interest, I have scoured the entire regular season television schedule and
picked out a few games that you would be a fool (that’s right, A FOOL) to miss.
Philadelphia @ New
Orleans: November 7th on ESPN
New Orleans Center Jason
Smith plays against his former team in what should be a barn burner between two
teams that can really put the ball in the basket.
Orlando @ Detroit:
November 16th on ESPN
Former Blue Devils Kyle Singler and J.J. Redick Duke it out (get it?) to see which unathletic white three-point
shooter can be the unathletic-iest, whitest, and three-pointiest of them all.
New Orleans @
Charlotte: December 29th on NBA TV
Al-Farouq Aminu and
Bismack Biymbo take center stage in the battle for alliteration world
domination. But will Desagana Diop emerge as the dark horse and steal the
crown?
Dallas @ Golden State:
January 31st on TNT
Vince Carter and
Richard Jefferson were teammates in New Jersey. But both have moved on to
bigger and better (?) things. Now they face off in what should be a
high-flying, aerial display between two athletes who definitely didn’t lose
their hops years ago. Or anything like that.
With
the 21st overall pick, Team O’Toole selects: Greg Monroe
Sean: At
6'11", he doesn't have the height of say, a Roy Hibbert, but as a 22-year-old
in his second year in the NBA averaged 9.6 boards and 15 points a game. The
blocks aren't there in as high a quantity but the $3.2 million contract and
young age makes Monroe a solid pick for now and the future of my team.
My
take: If Monroe played in a bigger market, he would definitely not hold the
same anonymity amongst casual fans. His numbers actually compare favorably to
Demarcus Cousins, though his game is not that of a prototypical center. He’s a
big man who can either face up or back down a defender. He’s actually at his
best between eight and twelve feet from the basket. While not a great post
defender, he is a big body who gives you the post scoring you needed. Solid
choice.
With
the 22nd overall pick, Team Oetinger selects: Paul George
My
take: This kid’s gonna be a stud. A 6-10 (yes, you read that correctly)
shooting guard with top-end athleticism and a smooth stroke from 3. He’s
already one of the best perimeter defenders in the league, he’s only 22 and
costs just $2.5 million next season. He adds versatility as he can defend four
positions and he will excel running the fast break with LeBron and Kyrie. He
hasn’t learned how to create his own shot yet, that’s not what I need him to do
at this point. A player I’ve been targeting for a while, I’m glad he’s
available.
With
the 23rd overall pick, Team Lamonica selects: Brook Lopez
Adam: I was surprised to find he is only a 4 mil cap hit.
While he may not be a superstar, he is an all around solid center who will
occasionally show flashes of brilliance. He very nicely rounds out my starting
give of Rose at 1, Curry at 2, Melo at 3, Griffin at 4, and now Lopez at the 5.
My take: A true 7-footer with a good post game, Lopez is a
rare breed. He adds great size to your team, with a small cap hit. I am a bit
worried about his injuries and his rebounding though. He sat out nearly all of
last season with a broken foot. And in his last full season, he averaged only
six rebounds a game, which for his size is unacceptable. I also have a tough
time taking him seriously because his name sounds like a female porn star. He’s
a decent shot blocker though, and his post defense will take some pressure off
of Blake Griffin. He’ll also force the defense to collapse on him when he gets
the ball in the post, which should lead to open shots for Curry and Anthony. I
like the pick.
With
the 11th overall pick, Team O’Toole selects: Ricky Rubio
Sean: A
solid young pass-first point guard who would have been the only player last
year to give Kyrie Irving a challenge for ROY had he not been injured. With
elite scorers around him he will be an assist machine.
My
take: Well whaddya know? Somebody took my advice (or I knew his pick before I
made said advice). While I could point out more well-rounded point guards
available, I think Rubio is actually an excellent pick considering the talent
surrounding him. Rubio’s shooting deficiencies will be balanced out by Durant
and Gordon. He does need to work on man-to-man defense, but he has the height
and lateral quickness to do so. Also of note is Rubio’s contract, which at $3.7
million next year technically qualifies as stealing.
With
the 12th overall pick, Team Oetinger selects: Kyrie Irving
My
take: Remember the more balanced point guard I just mentioned? Kyrie does it
all. He has great court-vision, speed, and outside shooting. He’s also only 20
years old, and will be playing under his rookie contract for a while. Like
Rubio, he needs to work on his man-to-man defense, but he has all of the
requisite skills to do so. At this point, I’m really feeling good about my
team’s potential.
With the 13th
overall pick, Team Lamonica selects: Carmelo Anthony
Adam: No doubt this is a risky pick. Melo’s leadership
ability has been in question for years, and he has made it obvious that he
likes to be at center stage. Pairing him
with D-Rose could be dangerous, but his overall ability to play every aspect of
the game when motivated is hard to overlook. He can take over games, drive,
make big shots, post up, and stuff the stat sheet. He has performed well on a
winning Denver team with a scoring PG in Billups, so I believe he can coexist
with Rose.
My
take: I’m definitely torn about this pick. I do respect Melo’s game, and his
toughness and rebounding is often overlooked. But he is an absolute ball
stopper on offense. With D-Rose already running the point, Melo will have to
settle for spot-up jumpers, which has never been his specialty. He’s one of the
best crunch-time scorers in the league; someone who you can put the ball in his
hands and feel confident he can score at will. But so is Rose. I’m also
concerned with Melo’s unwillingness to run on the fast break. But still, the
talent is there. You just need to find a way to make it work.
With the 1st
overall pick, Team O’Toole selects: Kevin Durant
Sean: When
looking at future value, I thought Kevin Durant was the best choice over LeBron
James. He is obviously one of the most talented scorers in the NBA right now
and looking forward I do not see that changing.
My
take: Understandable reasoning. Durant is four years younger than LeBron, and
has time to develop his defensive game. Barring devastating injury, Durant will
end up being a top five scorer of all time, no question. He has all the
offensive tools, and more importantly, is an outstanding leader and high
character guy. Great pick.
With
the 2nd overall pick, Team Oetinger selects: LeBron James
My
take: Let’s see, hands down the best all-around player in the game, the
reigning Finals MVP, and only 27 years old? Yes please. It seems redundant to
go over LeBron’s ability, but I’m in a boastful mood. He is the most explosive
athlete in the game, an offensive force around the rim with a developed jump
shot. He can create for others with his elite court vision, which makes him a
matchup nightmare. And he is the best wing defender in the game today. I had to
think about this pick for about .07 seconds.
With
the 3rd overall pick, Team Lamonica selects: Derrick Rose
Adam:
The youngest MVP ever, an unselfish scorer who plays defense. He is literally
the perfect package of youth, talent, repertoire, attitude, relatively soft cap
hit, and a superstar that wants to win.
My
take: Before Rose’s ACL tear in last year’s playoffs, this would be a much
easier pick. That being said, assuming he fully recovers, there aren’t many
stars with better character than D-Rose. And in today’s fast-paced game point
guards are at a premium, and Rose is among the finest in the league.
When considering my options as to what to write about
during the NBA’s offseason, I decided to focus my efforts on more retrospective
pieces. Yes, I could write about the NBA Draft, but frankly that is a dead
horse that has been kicked one too many times. Eventually every single prospect
is pointed to as a potential bust or sleeper; and eventually all of the
opinions blend together in an unending mass. The only other blip on the NBA
radar is free agency, and that is a time that belongs to the Ric Buchers and
the Marc Steins of the world: media leeches with more inside sources than I
have Facebook friends. My only option is to react to big stories, but we find
ourselves in a particularly bland summer of free agents.
As
a result, I decided on a little reader participation. I wanted to figure out a
way to demonstrate who the most valuable players are in the NBA today; who you
could build a team around. I wanted this to take into account all factors: ability,
age, salary, and personality. With all this in mind, I have created the 1st
Annual NBA Fantasy Value Draft.
In
order to conduct this draft, I called upon the brightest basketball minds that
I know (i.e. the only people I have ever had a conversation about basketball
with). Joining me in this venture are CJ Arena, Sean O’Toole, Joe Fisher, and
Adam Lamonica. Each has varying levels of knowledge about the game, so it will
be interesting to see which of us comes out on top. And how does one win this
competition, you ask? Let me show you.
The
rules of the Value Draft are simple. There are eight rounds and seven roster
spots, enough for a starting lineup and two role players. The eighth round is
designated to drafting a coach that will effectively lead your team to victory.
There is a salary cap as well. The regular NBA salary cap is $58.044 million.
But this is a soft cap, which allows teams to have a higher annual payroll as
long as they pay the subsequent luxury tax. But I decided to make things
interesting. My league has a hard salary cap of $55.164 million. I arrived at
this number by subtracting five minimum salaries ($480,000) from the current
NBA cap. This allows for five bench warmers to be added to our current
seven-man rosters, though they will be unnamed and theoretically will not play
any minutes. But since every NBA team must consist of at least twelve players,
they are necessary to devise our salary cap.
The
goal of the Value Draft is to construct a team that will compete for a
championship, both next year and in the future. The order of the picks were selected at random. The winner of this competition will
be decided by the one person I trust most with such a decision: myself. However,
I do promise that each team will get a fair shake, and if somebody drafts a
team that is better than mine, I will declare it as such. I just think that it
is highly unlikely to happen. I will post the results every two rounds, with
the final post detailing each player’s explanation of why their team is
superior. So, without further ado, I present the 1st Annual NBA Fantasy
Value Draft. May the best man win.
The light man stands, tears in his eyes, hands in the
air. He has conquered the mountain; the one they needed him to climb before he
could be accepted. His brothers surround him, and though they have scaled it as
well, the moment is his. Kind words are spoken, cheers and boos rain down, and
the idol he has lusted for changes hands. He is invited to take it first. He
does not hesitate. As he raises the golden sphere towards the sky, he is
validated. The condemnation, the second-guessing, the pain: each have been
relegated to steps in a process, a process he has now completed. His friends
and teammates surround him, patting him on the back and yelling his praises. A
smile erupts, maybe the first true one in years. After nine years of captivity,
the man whomwe treated as beasthas been set free.
The heavy man sits, tears in his eyes, hands
together. The nightmare repeats, at least for another year. The seat feels as
cold as it always does, and it provides none of the support he requires. His
eyes shift uncomfortably as loaded questions and verbal traps are lobbed his
way. His expression does not change, his face spills no secrets. He is a statue
among men, but only because he must be, because anything else would give them
exactly what they want. His friends sit on each side, but neither can protect
him. Another year, another misstep. Another eternal summer.
By the time this article has been finished, one of these scenes will take
place. One will completely change the narrative of LeBron James’ career; the
other will merely prolong it for another season. This may become a story of
redemption, a guide to the trials and tribulations that have lead to LeBron’s
first championship ring. It may end up as the preface to another dramatic
failure in one of the strangest careers in all of professional sports. But as I
write it now, with the NBA Finals tied at one game apiece, I look at it as a
series of snapshots that have progressed the career of the most talented and
divisive athlete of our time. LeBron James has become the ideal microcosm for
the changing landscape in sports and fan hood. He has been built up and torn
down as dramatically as any athlete in recent memory, and his career has
intersected perfectly with the rise of social media in our culture. The result
is a man who is both blessed and cursed by once-in-a-generation talent.
Two men are positioned front and center; all eyes are pointed towards them.
Only one man actually feels them.
LeBron James is The
Phenom
The first time I ever saw LeBron James, he was mugging it up
on the cover of Sports Illustrated, looking like a toddler who just shit his
pants. It’s hard to conceive nowadays, when we have YouTube and scouting
services that track players as young as twelve, but most sports fans had never
heard of James before his appearance on SI. But as far as first impressions go,
LeBron’s certainly couldn’t have gone much better (minus the picture.
Seriously, what is that pose?). In the article, written by Grant Wahl, LeBron
is introduced as being the possible heir to Michael Jordan. Danny Ainge is
quoted as saying that"If I were a general manager, there are only four
or five NBA players that I wouldn't trade to get him right
now." Oh by the way, LeBron hadn’t even finished HIS JUNIOR YEAR OF
HIGH SCHOOL YET. He was 17 years old, and a future Boston Celtics executive
already considered him more valuable than all but five players in the NBA. Not
to mention of course, the moniker of “The Chosen One”. When one is labeled as
“chosen”, it is indirectly implied that there is someone or something doing the
choosing. In this instance, the insinuation would seem to be that there exists
a basketball deity, one that picks and chooses attributes, and molds them
together to create basketball players. One that ultimately decided to create
the perfect basketball player, one with no equals and no physical weakness. In
the case of LeBron James, this may very well be the most likely scenario.
When watching LeBron James as a high-schooler, the physical
gifts and skills are impossible to miss. At 6-8, weighing 240 pounds, he
already had the build of a grown man, with room to add even more bulk. His
athleticism was off the charts, with elite speed, strength, and leaping
ability. When necessary, he could lock down any player on the court. But most
impressive was undoubtedly his passing ability. LeBron’s court vision as a high
schooler was absurd, there is no other way to put it. Not only could he see
where every player was on the court; he could see where they would be in 5
seconds, and had the touch to get the ball exactly where it needed to be. And
it wasn't enough that LeBron had incomparable passing skills; he was also a
willing passer, who understood the game and how it could benefit his team to
get other players the ball. This is a concept that many NBA stars never fully
grasp, and LeBron James was a master of at 17 years old.
As his senior season ended and the buildup to the NBA Draft
began, the popular comparison for LeBron was Magic Johnson. If the casual fan
scoffed at this, they would have good reason. All too often nowadays, we
evaluate prospects based on how they stack up against current and former players.
This not only devalues the greats of the past, it creates excessive pressure
for these prospects to live up to expectations. But Lebron, once again, broke
the mold. Experts and analysts reached for the Magic similarity because, in NBA
history, he’s the only other player who shared LeBron’s size, rebounding, and
passing ability. But, as insane as it may sound, the comparison actually sold
LeBron’s potential short. Not only could he clean up the boards and run the
offense like Magic, he could also put up 30 points a game. And defend every
position on the court.
Needless to say, when LeBron James was drafted first by his
hometown Cleveland Cavaliers, the hype surrounding him was deafening. With
Michael Jordan finally calling it quits the season before, the NBA was ready
for a new superstar. Before he had even stepped foot onto an NBA court, we knew
LeBron James was going to be that next superstar. There was no reason he
shouldn’t have been. He had the game, he had the personality, he had the
marketability. We had never before seen a player that brought as much to the
table as LeBron James. All that was left to see was how the meal was going to
taste.
The light man stands, tears in his eyes, hands in the
air. He has conquered the mountain; the one they needed him to climb before he
could be accepted. His brothers surround him, and though they have scaled it as
well, the moment is his. Kind words are spoken, cheers and boos rain down, and
the idol he has lusted for changes hands. He is invited to take it first. He
does not hesitate. As he raises the golden sphere towards the sky, he is
validated. The condemnation, the second-guessing, the pain: each have been
relegated to steps in a process, a process he has now completed. His friends
and teammates surround him, patting him on the back and yelling his praises. A
smile erupts, maybe the first true one in years. After nine years of captivity,
the man whom we treated as beast has been set free.
The heavy man sits, tears in his eyes, hands together. The
nightmare repeats, at least for another year. The seat feels as cold as it
always does, and it provides none of the support he requires. His eyes shift
uncomfortably as loaded questions and verbal traps are lobbed his way. His
expression does not change, his face spills no secrets. He is a statue among
men, but only because he must be, because anything else would give them exactly
what they want. His friends sit on each side, but neither can protect him.
Another year, another misstep. Another eternal summer.
By the time this article has been finished, one of these
scenes will take place. One will completely change the narrative of LeBron
James’ career; the other will merely prolong it for another season. This may
become a story of redemption, a guide to the trials and tribulations that have
lead to LeBron’s first championship ring. It may end up as the preface to another
dramatic failure in one of the strangest careers in all of professional sports.
But as I write it now, with the NBA Finals tied at one game apiece, I look at
it as a series of snapshots that have progressed the career of the most
talented and divisive athlete of our time. LeBron James has become the ideal
microcosm for the changing landscape in sports and fan hood. He has been built
up and torn down as dramatically as any athlete in recent memory, and his
career has intersected perfectly with the rise of social media in our culture. The
result is a man who is both blessed and cursed by once-in-a-generation talent.
Two men are positioned front and center; all eyes are
pointed towards them. Only one man actually feels them.
Sixers 103, Lakers 99.
0:47 remaining in overtime.
Idon’t know whether to cheer or throw my hands up in disgust. I do neither. I
just shake my head.
Allen
Iverson has just finished the Lakers’ night with an exclamation point. He goes
from zero to 60 in less than a second, dashing towards a baseline that only
contains Los Angeles defenders, all eyes trained on him. But he knew this all
along; it was predetermined. He stops in an instant, puts the ball between his
legs, crosses Tyronn Lue and creates enough space for himself to throw up his
unorthodox stepback. Lue leaps at him, more out of desperation than strategy,
but Iverson has already released the ball, not with the typical follow-through that
high school and AAU coaches drill into perfection. He doesn’t wave goodbye to
the ball, he merely releases it, knowing where it’s headed. As it splashes
through the net, Lue falls sprawling onto the court, a defeated man. But the
hunter is not finished with his prey. He doesn’t step over him, he STOMPS, as
if the Lakers’ hopes were an insect on the sole of his shoe, and Iverson has no
tolerance for bugs. For a brief second, he stands over his victim, seemingly
laughing, as Lue’s teammates on the bench stand helplessly only inches away. It
does not mathematically eliminate the Lakers, as Eric Snow’s floater in the
lane would do 30 seconds later, but everybody knows the game is over. The whole
city of Los Angeles could not stop A.I. tonight, and he has reminded them in a
brutal fashion.
Eleven-year-old
me is conflicted. Despite my affiliation with Philadelphia sports, I am a
converted Kobe fan, and since my childhood idol left the game in 1998, I had
grown rather attached to this afro-wielding future superstar. This Finals was a
meeting of the two teams I would most want to hoist the trophy. While some may
view this as a favorable position to be in, my pessimism does not afford me
such comfort. Every win for the Lakers is a loss for the Sixers, and vice
versa. To ease my discomfort, I have already conceded victory to Los Angeles.
The Lakers have not yet lost in these playoffs, are coming off a sweep of the San
Antonio Spurs that toed the line between utter domination and public execution.
The Sixers, on the other hand, took seven games to beat the Milwaukee Bucks in
the Conference Finals, and boasted a starting lineup that included Aaron McKie,
Tyrone Hill, and Jumaine Jones. Dikembe Mutombo was their second best player, and
his joints would literally creak as he lumbered down the floor.
But
tonight belonged to The Answer, as he single-handedly served the Lakers their
first loss of the 2001 Playoffs. While the Lakers would go on to win the next four games, and the series, that moment has forever been carved into my mind. In my
lifetime, I can only remember watching three Playoff games in which a player
seemingly won a game on his own, as if he could have picked four fans out of
the stands to play with him and the result would be the same: Jordan’s last
game as a Bull, LeBron’s 48 Special against Detroit, and what Iverson had just
done to L.A. In these instances, the outcome was not a result of poor
performances by the losing team; there was simply nothing they could do.
Eleven
years later, AI sits in basketball purgatory. By his own admission he is still
holding out hope that he will get to play in the NBA again, that one more team
will give him a chance. He bristled at the use of the word ‘retirement’ in an
interview with Lisa Salters at a Sixers playoff game this year, a game where he
was honored at center court before the game. But whether he is willing to say
the word or not, Allen Iverson is effectively retired. While he has been
relegated to stints in the Turkish Basketball League, players that were taken
after him in the 1996 Draft continue to play,
and in many cases thrive, in the NBA. There
is no doubt that he could provide consistent scoring off the bench for a
mid-level team. Hell, even Derek Fisher (taken 23 picks after Iverson) is
playing major minutes for a championship contender. The issue Iverson has run
into is the expectation that teams have for veteran role players. The function of
these players is to provide minutes off the bench, limit mistakes, and provide
a model for younger players to emulate. The first and last responsibilities are in
question when it comes to The Answer. He has had trouble coming off the bench before, and the assumption around the league is that his pride will not allow
him to do so. Not helping his cause is the Iverson image, constructed by years
of trouble with the law, feuds with coaches, and endlessly replayed sound bites.
In a nasty twist of fate, the public persona that once made Iverson arguably the
most popular player in the league has assured that he will never play in it
again.
The genesis of every venture begins
with a problem, a predicament that requires fixing. Some are nobler than
others: providing for others, self-improvement, general betterment of mankind,
etc. A majority of the time, the reason can be traced to the pursuit of
financial assets. Whatever the case may be, each project is a result of a
specific cause or affliction that affects its creator. This is no exception.
Translation: I’m doing this shit for a reason, so listen up.
The
motivation to create this blog lies closer to affliction than anything else.
More specifically, my stupid, useless head (insert phallic joke here). You see,
ever since I was young I have had an unhealthy obsession with basketball. The
first person I am going to lay the blame on is Michael Jordan. Now, he was
pretty good at basketball. And he also happened to be in his prime during my
formative years. Good enough reason to get into the sport, right? Well that
leads us to the second (and final) person I am going to blame for all of this:
myself. You see, when I enjoy something, it takes precedence over anything that
does not entertain me as much. This can include eating, sleeping, primary body
functions and the such. More often than not it ended up being homework. In
conclusion, the individual factors of Michael Jordan being the shit and my
obsessive personality morphed and created the monster that I am today. My first
full memory is receiving one of those Little Tikes basketball hoops for
Christmas when I was 3, and pretending to be MJ for hours before even opening
any of my other gifts. While most adolescents were (I’m assuming) committing to
memory the basics of science and mathematics in school, I was filling my mind
with the names of largely irrelevant NBA role players such as Slava Medvedenko,
Olden Polynice, and Lawrence Funderburke. I still have a DVD in my room called
Dunks 2. That’s right, a DVD. That means I was at least 13 when I bought it. I
don’t regret that purchase one bit.
Seriously, look at that form. Straight up balla'.
Fact
of the matter is, I have not grown out of this fixation as much as I would
like. While I retain very basic human functionality, I am limited in my ability
to actually improve myself. What I’m getting at is that I’ve hit the inevitable
point in my life where I have simply run out of room in my mind. I imagine that
when I receive new information, it simply pushes aimlessly against the gray mush
that is my brain, unable to find any new entry points. My head is literally
filled to the brim with tidbits such as the complete roster of the 1998 Chicago
Bulls (keep on representin', Scott Burrell) and theories about why Kobe inexplicably shaved his glorious afro. I’m
afraid of what may happen if my brain conceivably overloads. I see myself
standing in line at the bank, yelling at the poor soul next to me, “HOW IS
HAKEEM OLAJUWON STILL UNDERRATED?! HE IS THE 4TH GREATEST CENTER OF
ALL TIME! LOOK AT OLD HIGHLIGHTS OF HIM! IT’S BASKETBALL PORN!!!” Needless to
say, this type of behavior would have negative consequences.
So
here we are. I am trying to unload some of this potentially dangerous
information on you people. “Thanks!” you say, “This is exactly what I was
looking to do with my free time. Also, just wondering, what does the name of
your blog represent?” Well gee, I’m glad you asked. I was actually wondering
how I was going to shoehorn that into this dialogue. Simply enough, I have an
end table next to my bed at home. It is relatively nondescript: wood, a little
more than two feet tall. But it is where I dump everything. Looking at it now I
see multiple bank statements, sunglasses, a camera, a tissue box, toenail
clippers, the charger for something that I’m assuming I’ve never used before,
and a pile of resumes. The parallel between that table and this blog is (hopefully)
apparent. This is my landfill.
In all seriousness
though, I do actually enjoy writing, and sports take up a large portion of my
life. As my old roommates will tell you, I am more than willing to debate any
topic in sports until I am proven correct. This isn’t my first attempt at a
blog, although my previous endeavor was, admittedly, crap. It had no focus and
tried to do way too much, and too little. My hope is that this effort will be
incrementally better than the last, and that by my 14th attempt
sometime in 2048 I will actually approach genuinely inspired work. In the mean
time, I can hopefully free up the room in my head to learn how to drive a car without
rear ending whatever vehicle stops in front of me. That’s progress, ladies and
gentlemen!
