Showing posts with label Review. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Review. Show all posts

Sunday, July 13, 2014

NBA news in review: Simmons and Kareem on LeBron and Lowe on Bosh

I fell asleep on the job today watching Summer League—I’ll have notes on Portland’s strange and intriguing game for you tomorrow—and there is so much free agency news that it’s a bit hard to sum it all up.  So I’ve opted simply to look at some good quotes from journalists this week, to get a sense of what all the news that has happened has meant for the league.

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Regarding LeBron’s announcement that he is returning to Cleveland, it was harder to find a more incisive and interesting take than that of Bill Simmons.

This wasn’t entirely to be expected.  Simmons’ talents are usually displayed in coming up with amazing stories about what happens in the NBA, not so much coming down with fresh opinions on issues.  We shouldn’t let this fool us, of course—he has extremely insightful, almost philosophical views about what it means to watch sports.  But he is more of a storyteller and a critic, and so it was delightful that he brought us this time a really smart way to understand what was going on.  “If you think of him like a genius,” Simmons says, “it makes more sense.”

He’s smarter about basketball than you and me, and, really, anyone else. He sees things that we can’t see. During that last Miami season, I don’t think he liked what he saw from his teammates. LeBron James wanted to come back to Cleveland, but he also wanted to flee Miami. His heart told him to leave, but so did his brain. And his brain works like very few brains — not just now, but ever.

It is a wonderful way to see what happened.  While the conversation shuttles between people talking purely about what makes LeBron’s move justified for technical, basketball reasons, and people who talk about what the decision means morally, in personal and human terms, Simmons finds a way that combines both of these areas of debate, and makes the case that the move is the exercise of a mind that understands what sports mean as an artform, as a creative endeavor.

So much of the rhetoric surrounding James focuses on him as a moral being with an amazing gift.  It is harder to see him as a mind that utilizes specific skills in crafting a life for himself.  But Simmons makes a good argument for doing so.

The closest that people have come to this point of view is in talking about LeBron’s “maturity,” a highly loaded and overmoralized concept that attributes little to his understanding of basketball, and everything to the play of common knowledge—slowly acquired—in his head.  We always want to talk down to LeBron, to be a step ahead of him in terms of our development as persons. We often talk about LeBron James as he pursues his career like he is a member of our family who sometimes does boneheaded things, but other times pulls off wonderful feats of which we are proud.  That doesn’t do enough credit to how simply artistic and creative the development of his career is.  Look at another take on his decision that was printed in Time magazine:

When LeBron left Cleveland he celebrated it as the Exodus from Egypt and enslavement, and that arrogance left a bitter taste in his fans’ mouths. It was like showing up at a party with his new girlfriend when he knew his ex would be there. Tacky. Even his return to Cleveland might have been seen as more from the heart, as he states in his essay, if it had just been announced as a fait accompli instead of the press and fans waiting in anticipation for the word to come down from the mountain inscribed on tablets.

That’s Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, and his piece is worth reading.  And while he has often had the accusation of aloofness leveled at him, what is remarkable is the way that his pedantry here is no different than so many other articles on LeBron.  “Tacky.”  No statement on LeBron could be more typical of the discourse that surrounds him.  It is what everything in these “takes” amount to saying.

It isn’t that this is a negative criticism—approving is also something this essay does a lot—it is that is he sort of superficial judgment about what have been done, what should have been done, of what shouldn’t have been done, of which they mostly consist.  Their point is always about “the way he does things,” except it never accounts for any of the style with which he does it, the way “the way” is more than a proper or improper behavior and more like a show, an act (in the best sense of this term), an art, a venture into invention and creativity.  But Simmons’ effort places us in a different relationship to him, one that is more distant but also more interested in him.

Whenever Simmons speaks of basketball, he talks as if he is watching a show on TV or a movie: what matters to him are not the intentions of athletes but the way they appear, the way they represent themselves, the way they play out narratives in front of us.  This is a revolutionary and extremely sophisticated view of what happens in sports, because it removes the question of effort and focuses on the product, the artwork itself.  But it is also a more respectful one, in many cases.

In the course of the piece Simmons asserts something many people would find quite blasphemous, really, and it is a bold claim that takes courage to make: that the type of mind that James has—which Jordan had too—is more like that of Michelangelo’s, or Einstein’s, than we usually think.  Whatever its ultimate truth, at a moment like this, when many are evaluating James in the same old tired ways—trying to say that this merely undoes a mistake, or returns him to where he was—it is an important one, which stresses the man’s remarkable inventiveness.

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Next, there is the Houston situation, which no one could have predicted.  Not only did Chris Bosh turn down their offer of a maximum contract to stay in Miami, completely rendering useless their trade of Jeremy Lin to the Lakers (which will be absolutely wonderful for Lin, he needed to be free of that strange market and go to a place where he would be more welcome), but the Mavs gave Houston a taste of their own medicine and offered a contract to Chandler Parsons that ruins their future if they match it.  Zach Lowe had a few good words on this, in his piece that was coming to grips with everything that was happening to Miami:

Bosh’s choice is a disaster for Houston, which gave away Jeremy Lin and a first-round pick to the Lakers to lustily open up the final chunk of cap space for Bosh. He would have fit perfectly alongside Dwight Howard and James Harden, but Bosh likes life in Miami, and he has surely seen the YouTube videos of Harden’s defense. At least Houston nabbed an extra pick, one that could fall in the lottery, in their other cap-clearing move — the trade of Omer Asik to New Orleans.

I’ve written here about how the Rockets have an image problem. But they may also have a basketball problem, and Lowe gets to the heart of it.

Everyone is saying that Bosh has not come to Houston because of personal reasons.  He likes it in Miami, he is settling down.  People are speculating that his wife had something to do with it, that she calls the shots in the relationship and that if Bosh had his say he may have decided differently.

It is part of a long process whereby Bosh’s basketball decisions come to be coded in strangely personal terms.  And that forms part of a bizarre questioning of Bosh’s agency as a human that has plagued him all his life, a perverse result of his being, quite simply, one of more level-headed and intelligent players to ever pick up a basketball.  People question his virility, insinuating he can’t make his own decisions, or makes easy ones, rather than being a man, playing tough, making the hard choices.

But it is not entirely clear that this isn’t a basketball decision, pure and simple.  This flies in the face of most logic, of course.  On paper, a Rockets team with Bosh on it works amazingly well.  In principle, it is a formula that could take a big bite out of much of the Western Conference.  With that personnel and that skillset, the team should be brilliant.  But in practice, there might have been problems, problems which Bosh might have foresaw—the major one being how they would use him to shore up their defense, as Lowe intimates.

The main reason Bosh was an attractive candidate—this has been reiterated in countless talks about the deal that have gone on this week—was not because it would capitalize on anything that they were good at currently, but instead would be an instant solution to a chronic defensive problem, combined with a nice ability to spread the floor in the same manner their offense does already.  With Bosh on the floor, they could alternately give Dwight Howard help in the paint on defense (freeing him up to gobble up rebounds), and then come down on offense and space the floor with his three point shooting.  The defense would get better, the scorers then could get even more room to score.  There would be—and this is the crucial emphasis—no loss at all in efficiency, only gains.

But it isn’t quite clear that this would really be a step forward for Bosh.  Bosh wants to capitalize on his gifts, and perhaps become a strange new form of NBA player: something like a lankier and quicker version of LaMarcus Aldridge.  It isn’t clear that bringing his defensive skillset to back up Dwight Howard (whose defensive skills aren’t quite as formidable as they were back when Stan Van Gundy was scheming to take advantage of his physical prowess) to merely allow a whole bunch of other people on the roster with a history of hogging the ball to get easier touches—it isn’t clear that this would really allow him to do that.  It wouldn’t be too hard, probably, to fix and make things work more smoothly and more in his favor.  But Bosh seems to have a crystal clear idea of what he wants to become and wants to put this into practice now, rather than put in all sorts of effort to coerce a young team to use his gifts rather than let him enable their own.

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There is Melo, there is Pau Gasol, there is there is the Summer League, there is more to be said about Chandler Parsons, there is a lot to be said—I wanted to include it here, but I also want to give it some real attention—about Isaiah Thomas and the moves of the Kings organization.  And if I stop here this little review will be much too Grantlandy.  But more reviews and summaries in the next few days—rather than news updates—will provide some more commentary along these lines and hopefully account for the majority of everything going on, or at least its impact on the state of basketball.  For now, though, that will have to be all!

Friday, June 27, 2014

Morning review, June 27, 2014: NBA Draft losers and winners (mostly winners!)

Well, draft day came and went.  Here are some winners losers.  Mostly winners, because this draft was chock full of talent: all the teams had to do was stick their hands in and they’d come out with something.

First, then, the very few LOSERS:

The Cavaliers and the City of Cleveland, Ohio: Oh yes, that's right, I’m going to put the Cavs in the loss column. Wiggins was good for them, but are they, in the end, coming out THAT much of a better team?  They still have to do something with that roster, with that lockerroom, with that offense, with that defense.  They did the right thing and looked competent for once—but is that really a win for them?  It still isn’t clear to me whether trading the pick might not have been better.  That would have gone some ways to deepen an aging roster, and it would have actually involved real competence.  In many ways, they played it safe.  That should still leave the poor people of Cleveland wondering at the organization and whether a franchise headed toward mediocrity in the worst Eastern Conference in the history of the NBA (though better after this draft) can truly be considered a success.  After this, I'm not much more sure.  Come back to me when you are winning, Cavs.  Put up or shut up.

The Raptors: The Bruno pick seems like a solid pick if you trust Masai—which Raps fans have every reason to do—despite the lack of knowledge about him.   They wanted him at 37 though and to pick Ennis at 20, and then to trade Ennis and Salmons to get Prince from the Griz.  Meanwhile, the Suns picked up Ennis, mucking all this up.  So the Raps had to pick Bruno at 20 and got their little plan messed with.  Not a huge setback, just definitely a loss strategywise compared to what other teams pulled off.  Bruno though looks interesting—so still a bit of a win.

Zach LaVine: Made a wonderful gesture in absolute wonderment at the fact that he was just picked to be in the NBA, putting his head on the table and going “Fuck me!”  Looked to everyone watching and who knows what’s in store for him in Minnesota like he was regretting ever being born.

Now the WINNERS:

Andrew Wiggins: Pure joy on that face.

The Sixers: Cleveland won the first pick, but the Sixers won this draft.  They didn't just win, actually: they slayed it.  Getting Embiid was a steal for them.  Getting Saric is brilliant.  They will tank another year, but there's no way--unless one of these guys doesn't pan out, which I think is unlikely--that they will not be a real, real force in the league for several years to come.  And it would look like cheating or screwing the fans, except that every step they take to build what will eventually be a seriously NBA-thumping roster--a roster that will be making a serious championship run--is executed brilliantly, and simply feels right and genuine.  By genuine, I mean that they make decisions with the exact right amount of risk.  So while they tank, at the same time, they do not play it safe.  There is no way they shouldn't have taken a chance on Embiid, but other teams (like the Cavs) indeed would not have taken that chance.  Not so the Sixers.  And in a couple years they will have an absolutely vicious frontcourt to reward their fans with.

The Magic:  Quietly adding to the the intriguingness-factor of their roster.  Getting Aaron Gordon was an excellent move.  Getting Elfrid Payton and a pick for Saric is also great.  It now remains to be seen how all these pieces will be put together, but it seems as if with this draft the full damage of the Dwightmare is now repaired, and that's a huge, huge win for them.  And, the ultimate poetic justice of it all is that they probably have one of the most athletic rosters in the league.  Last time I checked, five athletic guys are definitely worth more than one hyper-athletic guy.

The Heat: Somehow they ended up with Napier, which is a steal.  Goodbye Cole or/and Chalmers.  It was in exactly the right way to come up with Napier too, given everything that is going on right nowon their roster: they somehow flexed muscle, or did some wizardry, to make that move, and that works as a broadside sent LeBron’s way to notify him that they are an amazingly efficient and effective organization, committing to absolutely slaughtering the rest of the league.

Adam Silver: Class all around.  Professionalism.  The players really, really have to remember that this guy is out to screw them when it comes time to negotiate the next CBA.  But that’s also a benefit: you know where you stand with this guy.  Having the league itself draft Isaiah Austin was wonderful and deserved.

The Knicks: Getting Cleanthony Early is a steal, and Antetokumpo is just charming.  Combined with getting rid of Felton and Chandler, this does a good deal to move them forward towards cleaning house.  Both will bring some new blood into the organization.  Combined with or rotated in for Hardaway or Shumpert, Early could be great.  And having a mobile big as a backup instead of the plodding Amar’e and Chandler, will just be a breath of fresh air for Madison Square Garden spectators.  Not that there’s any fresh air in NYC.  But you get what I mean.

Jabari Parker and Julius Randle: The first got to go where he wanted to go, the second gets to stay in California.  Three cheers for people ending up in a nice place that they wanted to be at.

Milwaukee Bucks: Three cheers also for the Bucks, who with Parker will be actually fun to watch again and may make some news in the near future.

The Celtics: I really would have liked it if they had ended up with Gordon, because I feel like they need someone that’s a mobile bruiser, but getting Smart will also help.  It also means Rondo might be on the way out, which is sad but again good for them: blow the whole thing up, start afresh, try your damndest to still get Kevin Love.

Detroit: Dinwiddie looks like a great pick.  Plus he is named Dinwiddie.  This officially makes Detroit the funnest-sounding roster in the league.

Draft caps: Best draft caps that I can remember.  Definitely better than previous years’ caps.  Ick.

Jalen Rose: Looks more and more like a resourceful, knowledgeable analyst every day.  He is that already, yes, but now he comes off looking that way too.  He had opinions on picks all the way down, based on looking at the footage, which is when he is at his best.  He translates team-analysis into player-analysis, and that’s crucial and not talked about with all the numbers and figures thrown everywhere.  And he can talk about character in a way that doesn’t sound blow-hard-y but concrete.

Bill Simmons: “WOAH!!!” isn’t going to be topped, ever, and one could only feel for Simmons, coming into this draft with the big question mark about what he’d do this time.  He didn’t give into the pressure, and the follow-up came out in the best way, not unlike his reaction to the Cavs getting the number one pick: the camera picking up something that it shouldn’t have seen, a nice, solid, satisfied fist pump,followed by a gesture of modesty.  It was all class.

Thursday, June 12, 2014

Afternoon Review, Thursday June 12, 2014: Trying to sum up the Spurs

On a day when the The World Cup starts you can bet news of the Finals might take a bit of a back seat to breakdowns of all the teams, keys to matches, guides to soccer strategies, updates on the developments in Brazilian politics.

But there has been an amazing amount of NBA writing over the past few days, so there's plenty to gather together.

First, Zach Lowe wrote what was, I think, his best column ever.  It was just as enlightening as anything else he's written, and yet it was the best take on Game 3 simply because it was so clear.  Instead of laying everything before you as he usually does, he picks a few plays simply and walks you through them, trying to show something basic about what it means to be as efficient as the Spurs were in that game.  When the rest of the sports world could only resort to historical stats, Lowe honed in on what they were doing every possession.  He makes it plain in one simple sentence.  "Make sure," he says,

to credit the Spurs for sensing weakness, taking advantage of it, and even creating some of Miami’s defensive fragility.

What this means is not--what we might at first think--that we have to credit the Spurs for making Miami fragile.  Lowe isn't saying that.  He is saying that we have to credit the Spurs for creating weakness on top of taking advantage of it.  What happened with the Spurs in that game, and what made them so deadly, was in his view that strange thing that statisticians have recently pointed to a lot in popular culture, and which athletes in general worship: luck creating luck.  Chance creating chance.  And, in working against an opponent, weakness creating more more weakness.

Anyone can walk you through how a play works over a defense.  Few people can walk you through offense breaks down a defense in the long term, creating opportunities from opportunities.

The rest of the reporters and writers tried to make some sense of it in their own way.

Dan McCarney went the straightforward way of simply marveling at Kawhi's intentions and their amazing results.  He put it this way:

Spurs coach Gregg Popovich challenged Leonard after two poor games to start the Finals, and then Leonard challenged himself. “It’s a new game today,” he said at shootaround earlier in the day. “We’ll see what kind of player I am.” Evidently, a pretty damn good one as Leonard provided the ultimate response with a career-high 29 points while helping contain James.

He also tried to find an interesting and significant stat, and came up with one:

Leonard also had two steals and two blocks while helping limit James to just 22 points — the same amount he scored in the second half of Game 2, and nearly six points below his postseason average coming in.

That Kawhi would effectively reduce James to the cramped, heat-hassled version of himself, while doing what he did offensively--well that puts this in perspective.

Zach Harper decided to go away from the Big Three and look at Kawhi as part of a piece of amazing roleplaying: he has a great breakdown of how Leonard, Diaw, and Green all stepped up in Game 3 to turn an excellent performance into a dominating one.  It has perhaps the most succinct and satisfying summary about Kawhi's performance:

There isn't much to break down in terms of how he did it, you really can only marvel at the way he managed to score. Everything was measured, everything was aggressive, and nothing was forced aside from one jumper.

I particularly liked that jumper myself, as it was a signal of just how aggressive he was being in everything else.  But the point is a good one.

Lee Jenkins at Sports Illustrated, one of the best pure writers on the NBA, described it with some excellent rhetoric, decided it was better to sum up the Spurs' effort by putting the thing negatively, even pleading on behalf of the Heat:

The notion that a San Antonio player could actually misfire clearly startled the Heat because they failed to corral the rebound.  Forgive them. The Spurs appeared to anyone witnessing the first quarter-and-a-half of Game 3 like they would sink every shot they took.

He also reminds us of just what this means for our conception of the Spurs' style:

A national audience, which remembers the Spurs as those boring plodders who dumped the ball into Duncan a decade ago, may be surprised by this onslaught. But it was no fluke. The Spurs have evolved over the past five years into the most artistic and efficient offense in the NBA.

Sometimes this step back to how a less initiated, less familiar audience might look at the thing gives us the right perspective.

But, finally, sometimes words aren't enough.  Mariah Medina tries to capture the Spurs' effort in graphic form, so we can be speechless in yet another way.

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

Afternoon Review, June 10, 2014 - Sterling, Bosh, Stephenson

Lots of content coming up, including reviews of the first three Finals games.  But first the news.

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Scott Cacciola in the New York Times has an unbelievable article covering how the actual selling of the Clippers went down.  The story is fascinating, and told in great detail from start to finish.

Cacciola conducted a dozen interviews for the piece, and constructed a clear timeline.  Essentially, what we find is that Rochelle Sterling, after failing to convince Donald to sell the team, went ahead and took a closer look at a provision in the trust that governs the ownership of the Clippers.  It says if either Donald or Shelly are incapacitated mentally, the team can be sold away.  After seeing the CNN interview of Donald Sterling, Mrs. Sterling called him and told him to go see a doctor to check for any neurological abnormalities.  Sure enough, they found some, and using this evidence, Shelly went forward with the sale to Steve Ballmer.

The only mystery to the story is what persuaded Donald to go to get a checkup at the medical center.  If he had not gone, it’s unclear what evidence may have been used to declare him mentally incapacitated.  At the same time, Shelly pursued the sale aggressively, so it is easy to imagine other similar proof coming forth from somewhere.

Meanwhile, the article informs us as to how the buyers were lined up.  Apparently Sterling was approached by several bidders—the most interesting, perhaps, being Grant Hill, who formed a group that put up an offer of $1.2 billion—but Ballmer came in swinging and won Sterling over.

There is news emerging today as well that Donald Sterling is opposing the sale by these means and is going to sue the NBA.  He recently asked the NBA to take back the fine it imposed upon him and the lifetime ban, to which Adam Silver responded with a curt No way, Jose.  It is not certain that this will change anything about the sale of the team.

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Next, Chris Bosh.  Tom Haberstroh at ESPN.com has a detailed profile of Bosh—who is emerging as one of the greatest characters in the NBA.  Bosh’s interviews and comments after games are always thoughtful and really rewarding responses: in general he seems to be one of the most open, communicative, and honest players there are in the league.

The article details his upbringing--like the amazing Jonathan Abrams piece from last year--but focuses mainly on his adjustment to Miami and his role there.  While it is a story that has been told before, Haberstroh tells the story with a thoroughness that makes for excellent reading.  Most interesting is, however, his ability to get at the type of player Bosh has become: an incredibly smart one.

This, Haberstroh surmises--and shows quite vividly too--is finally a kind of reconciliation of two parts of his personality which often were made to conflict because of circumstances.  But Bosh, he shows, has reached a kind of inner peace with himself, in which he has taken control over these circumstances and managed to actually reconcile them internally.  After separating the two sides of himself for so long,” Haberstroh says,

he's begun applying that same thirst for knowledge he displays in his nonathletic interests to advance his game past what conventional wisdom often dictates.

Haberstroh talks to Shane Battier to try and get some perspective on it now, and why people have often accused him of being a big man who has actually run away from the banging in the psot.
"People confuse intellect for softness," Battier says. "It's just smart basketball.”

Be on the lookout for more of Bosh's smart basketball in Game 3.  He can be one of the most interesting players to watch on the court, and there was plenty of evidence why in the last game.

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The takeaway from the piece?  Basically, what we already knew: Stephenson is a hot commodity, but people are wary of adding dynamite to the lockerroom.  But, with the difference that Lowe actually gives us a concrete sense of what this means.

He breaks down Lance’s abilities. What do we find?  Well, he shoots well enough, but his ball handling is the thing that gets him good shots, because it is excellent.  He also passes the ball well.  He’s hardly selfish, something he’s blamed about a lot.  And while he is ineffective on the pick and roll, he is also in a great position to learn and develop more.

And he’s big.  There’s no avoiding this: Lance is a big guard, and that allows him to bang his way down to the basket if need be.  In short, he has the potential to do Russell Westbrook-like things.

And for all his antics, he did play excellent defense.  Lowe makes a point to say that this is one of the best things that has happened because of his playing in Indiana.

What I think makes Lance interesting is that there’s an alternative universe where this doesn’t happen: where Lance, this crazy baller from New York, is actually trained by Indiana to become a really fundamentally sound player.  Where he combines Melo-style with Indiana tradition.

But somehow something more interesting has transpired.  He's become a schizophrenic player, always deciding whether he wants to be Good Lance and Bad Lance.

And that's what's amazing about what will happen with his free-agency.  It is just sheer personality that’s the problem with him.  Not vanity, not selfishness, even—elements of character that mean specific things because they translate in basketball terms to certain behaviors.  It isn't any distinct playing "style."  No: it is sheer mental craziness, unconnected with any specific ability, and yet which can somehow affect every aspect of his play.

What Lowe does point out, in passing, is that this craziness--for lack of a better term--might be a function of something else.  It may be a sign, that is, of a larger virtue we haven't quite seen yet because of the restraints working in Indiana has imposed upon him.  It may be not craziness but competitiveness, a sign that there is “fight” in Lance, something some teams might like.  And most of his oddness does have an aggressive, fighting sort of edge to it.


It’s just that it could also be a J.R. Smith sort of fight as well, one that ends up in Lance untying shoelaces as well as blowing in people's ears.

Friday, June 6, 2014

Morning Review, June 6, 2014 - (insert heat pun here)

You couldn't have asked for a more insane first game to start the 2014 NBA Finals.  Nor one that lent itself to more heat-related puns.  Headline-writers were salivating across the nation yesterday--except for the ones in the AT&T center, who had no moisture left in their bodies. I'll be recapping the game in a little later today myself, but here are some of the takes on it all.

So many things happened last night.  Paul Flannery at SBNation has a good recap of it all, the boys and girls of Grantland also have a good look back, and Jack Maloney at Hardwood Paroxysm has all the good pictures and gifs and whatnot.  In the Grantland writeup especially there is a lot of good attention drawn to the smaller things we might have missd: Manu's amazing performance, Boris Diaw putting up a great game, and the crazy amount of turnovers the Spurs will seriously have to fix, if they want to win this series--though it wasn't entirely clear whether that number was provoked by Miami's defense, or simply the heat getting to everyone's head.

But attention naturally drifts back to LeBron with this game, and his absence.  Ian Levy at FiveThirtyEight has the best take on this.  Basically, the numbers say that this team simply needs LeBron, and can't win without him.  It may look like the Spurs actually contained LeBron there on the court.  He wasn't scoring at a huge clip throughout the game (though in that time period, he threw down 25 points--amazing).  But the damage he does by his mere presence, the way it alters the Spurs defense, allows Miami to score and to operate with devastating efficiency.  He literally has NO plus/minus for those 33 minutes: that means he IS the team, essentially.  Even if he just stood there, it seems, he'd be doing more to help his team than being on the bench.  His playing 33 minutes, Levy concludes, is what really hurt the Heat this game.

Then let's get to the cramping.  Andrew Lynch at Hardwood Paroxysm has an interesting article on the relation of this, the most simple and basic sports injury, to some of the most complex science we research.  In short, he speculates on whether the tendency to cramp in LeBron may be genetically related, and what, if that's the case, sports science can do about it.

Will Carroll, writer on sports injuries for Bleacher Report, returns us to what we do know, and writes a very detailed, extremely informative breakdown of what makes the muscles, well, break down when they get cramped.  It also goes into treatment and what we can expect for game 2.  Essentially, muscles just dry out.  The article calls attention to how the Heat medical staff and trainers gave the team ice packs to cool down the heat (and had LeBron change his uniform), as if this were their emphasis, rather than hydration (which must have been up there too, of course).

It also points to LeBron wearing his compression sleeves and coverings on his leg, which would have not allowed as much cooling--the medical staff might have had him take those off, though it's unclear what other effects that would also have had.  One thing that it is good to remember is that the athletes prepare days in advance for these games, hydrating over the course of the week.  James alluded to this in his remarks on what happened: apparently, even that was not enough hydration for the event.

All of this brings into relief too just how extreme are the conditions on which the athletes normally compete, and some understanding of all the effort they put into just regularly functioning.  We're also not hearing stories about the other players in the game suffering the way LeBron suffered, interestingly, and this must tell you something about just how hard his body is working on the court.

Many people are accordingly chastising those that were hating on LeBron for not playing through the cramps.  The comparisons to Jordan are always inane, I think we can all agree about that.  Bill Barnwell of Grantland pointed people to a passage in Roland Lazenby's new biography of Jordan that said he too sat out a game because of problems, despite the "flu" game or whatever it was.  Dan Feldman lays it all out with the appropriate quote from the book.

But people also are going after the twitter users (many wearing Spurs jerseys) who posted pictures of themselves being carried by their friends "off the court" and hashtagging #LeBroning to their pictures.  While it bespeaks a kind of insensitivity and unappreciation of the sheer discipline, effort, and science required to compete at the level at which LeBron is competing, I don't think it's too horrible.  It is especially not as bad as the MJ comparisons, which are about legacies and reputations and seek to confuse our perception of history itself.  Imitation is also flattery, remember.

Furthermore, I don't think it's unreasonable of the fans to cheer or boo when LeBron was taken out--though I think Spurs fans watching, who were disappointed in the crowd, were noble in their desire to correct those members of their tribe.  Frankly speaking, it was 90 degrees in there and I don't think anyone in the arena was in a position to use their best judgment.  If it happens during a normal night, then it's acceptable.  But I'd be riled up as hell and murderous if I were in there myself.

One last thought: everyone is saying that we can't quite analyze this game because of all the conditions.  That's true, to an extent.  But what last night also reminded us is that sports events are absolutely crazy, and often involve luck and chance as much as preparation.  If anything, Miami knows that from last year's Game 6.  What is also great is that this produces as many stories as when things go according to plan--possibly even more interesting ones.

Well, that's the news for this morning.  Now I'm going to go drink a glass of water.

Thursday, June 5, 2014

Morning Review, June 5, 2014 - The Finals, Harden, and money

Well, the Finals are upon us: I took the day off yesterday from a morning review because I plan on keeping up on daily developments through the weekend.

So far though, there hasn't been as much talk or hype surrounding this series as I thought there would be.  Most of the talk had to do with Timmy's comment to the media, and LeBron's response.  Cooler heads have prevailed: most people are sizing up the accomplishments of the two teams, more than framing the thing as a rematch, as I thought they might.  Maybe this is appropriate, when a Finals has so much historical baggage riding upon it, and was held again with the same teams last year.  There's no new news about the rosters involved, no new profiles to make: we know all the players in the story, so nothing can be unearthed.  It can only be reviewed and revisited.  So that's what people are doing.

I also have the hunch that people are generally unsure about what will happen: Miami, quite frankly, is an unknown quantity this year compared to last year.  The books have the Spurs winning it (and I do too), but the books also had Houston winning the Portland series, and it became evident thereafter just how obvious a mistake that was.  I think people just need the first game to get going so we can figure out what stories it is possible to tell.

Meanwhile Spurs writers continue to show themselves to be some of the best in NBA reporting.  Out of the many around, I liked the one by Stephen Shepperd at Pounding the Rock the best.  He emphasizes that unlike Indiana, the Spurs haven't approached this season with Miami as their motivation.  This is probably because it was too painful a loss to think about, but also because they thought this year they could be better.  Which they are.  "Contrary to popular belief," he says,

the Spurs didn't set out to exact revenge against the Heat at the beginning of the season. ...  It was about not letting the pain that ended the season carry over to the 2013-14 campaign. Focusing only on Miami would've limited San Antonio's dominance over the entire league (see: Indiana Pacers). No, this season carried implications that were much bigger than LeBron, Wade, and Bosh.

We'll see what happens.

Next, the All-NBA teams came out yesterday--Lillard and Aldridge both made 3rd Team All-NBA, so Blazer fans can be quite happy.  What no one is happy about is that James Harden made the first team.  Ethan Sherwood Strauss sets everyone straight in a gem of an ESPN.com column:

Many possessions are “get-fouled-or-bust” for Harden, who (not that it should matter in the voting) presents one of the least aesthetically pleasing styles among the NBA's stars. He takes flopping to the “difference in kind” degree he takes bad defense, bending rules until they comically break like splintered cork bats on a baseball field. 

Of course there is the horrible, almost bizarre lack of defense--Harden looks like a brain-addled out of breath 54 year old on the pickup court at times, making mistakes you almost didn't think were even possible--but it is this argument about his offense that is the most damning case.

It's unclear whether Harden developed this style because Houston put upon him the pressure to carry the team--a pressure that except for two weeks in the last part of the season he showed he could not handle--or simply because it capitalizes on his most developed and, quite frankly, amazing talents: an ability to see the court and to read the defense that in another player on a different team with a different philosophy would have developed into a transcendent ability to pass the ball.

Watching Harden alternates between being fascinating and being absolutely kill-me-now-I-can't-watch-another-minute-of-this frustrating.  And despite what Sherwood Strauss says, I do think the aesthetic argument matters.  It's not that there's an aesthetically right version of basketball to play--it's just that if someone's game is ugly or beautiful, that counts for something.  And Harden's is, right now, in the way he has developed it, ugly.

Finally, William C. Rhoden yesterday had an interesting piece on just how much the news of the sale of the Clippers has overshadowed the talk about why the team had to be sold.  Money talks, and it has silenced what promised to be a good dialogue on race amongst owners.

What's bad isn't so much that the news has shifted so quickly, as the sheer crassness of the fascination with the money itself that followed the sale.  We went from talking about the most concrete exploitative situations, to oohing and aahing about the possibilities for other NBA teams now that we know the sale of the Clippers went for $2 billion.  There's also not enough rage about just how Sterling made out in the deal.  Partly, the news of his mental condition probably has something to do with this ambivalence.  But Rhoden reminds us how significant a vote by the owners could have been.

He also reminds us that the players, coming into negotiations for the next CBA, should also remember all this:

Indeed, the only losers in the Sterling affair are the players, who must be mystified, if not infuriated, by the millions and now billions of dollars flying around N.B.A. franchises. Even the most apolitical, singularly focused player has to be bothered because athletes do not directly share profits. Donald Sterling’s words might have been insulting, but this must be a slap in the face.

The next CBA has to absolutely be a fight to get money and privileges back in the hands of the players, for the sake of the league's health, but also morally as a case made against abuse by owners in general.

Tuesday, June 3, 2014

Morning Review, June 3, 2014 - Matthews, Batum, Blazers get some recognition

Today there's a lot of news around the NBA, mostly involving Kevin Love's tour of Boston and the upcoming Finals rematch.  But there's something closer to home that's interesting.

Erik Gundersen at The Colombian reports that Nic Batum and Wesley Matthews both got a significant amount of votes for the NBA All-Defensive Team.  Batum got 3, Matthews got 4.  Two of the votes for Matthews were from Hubie Brown and Bill Simmons.  Gundersen had a wonderful article on the defense the two provided against the Rockets early in May, showing how the two not only excel individually but also together.  In this article, Gundersen says that

their most notable performance–which was after the ballots were already cast–was when both of them squared off and slowed down Houston’s James Harden in their first round series win.

Harden's troubles were often attributed to his own individual performance, but the secret for his slump lay in the tenacity of the opposing team's defense.

Batum has received much respect league-wide for his abilities throughout his career--and of course in France is lauded as one of their best players ever.  The general esteem for him was most visible recently when Chandler Parsons of the Rockets infamously claimed he was the best three-guard on the court in the Portland-Houston series.  "No, you're not," as Jalen Rose succinctly put it in one of his podcasts for Grantland with David Jacoby.

Matthews, however, has not gotten such visible praise, though there rumbles behind the scenes a continual murmur that he is one of the toughest, most tenacious, and most feared defensive-offensive combinations the league has to offer.  The offense is key: Matthews made 201 three pointers in the regular season and came away with a 39.3% average from beyond the arc.  That puts him in an elite category for all-around production.

Batum is also being recognized back at home: yesterday he gave his name to a gym in Malaunay, a little town about nine miles north of Rouen.  Batum was born in Normandy, though his family has African roots and he often looks back to his African heritage.  Batum has been spending the summer back at home, where his parents still live.

And writers are generally recognizing the Blazers' season as a huge success, the more the retrospective and reflective gaze is cast upon the 2013-14 NBA year.  Jason Hortsch at Rip City Project has a lengthy article in praise of the Portland offense, detailing why they might have been the best offense in the NBA this decade.  "Out of these 300 team seasons since 2004, the Blazers ranked 22nd in offensive rating," he says.

This ranking places them in the top eight percent of offenses during the last ten seasons of the NBA. That is a lot of teams that the Trail Blazers surpassed, and offers a far wider frame of reference with which to understand how successful the Blazers were on the offensive side of the ball this year. 

He gives much of the credit to Terry Stotts, but the team in general can and should enjoy the distinction.

Sunday, June 1, 2014

Week in review, June 1, 2014 - Pacer problems, Westbrook problems, memory problems, and how a dunk fixes everything

There were five outstanding articles this week that thought deserved mention.

First, two on the Pacers and their demise.  The first of these is an article put up on ESPN.com on Wednesday, by Brian Windhorst and Mike Wells, which looks at several important questions we have about the Pacer's season, and goes into detail in giving the answer. The questions center on two players: Roy Hibbert and Lance Stephenson.

Basically, it sounds as if Hibbert's comment about "a lot of selfish people" in the locker room was devastating to the team and may have been the tipping point at which a dip into a performance after the All-Star Break became a full-blown slide into one of the worst seasons of a #1 seed ever.  It was referring, it seems, to genuine trends in performance: Stephenson felt slighted being passed over for an all-star spot, and especially concerned for his own career going into free-agency this summer.  Hibbert was referring to him.  And yet going public with problems affected the whole team dynamic, shook everyone's confidence that they could handle their own situation from the inside, together with Larry Legend bringing in Evan Turner literally from the outside to bolster their playoff hopes.

It's odd: Hibbert seems stupid in hindsight to have said the things, as well as selfish himself.  But it also shows how perceptive he is about his own game: he seems to have had foreknowledge of some sort that the way the team was working may have been setting him up for a massive decline in performance--which he subsequently did in fact go into.  So it is also a sort of Catch-22 for him: he's trying to change a dynamic that is directly making himself play badly, and yet in doing so causing that very dynamic to exacerbate itself and cause him to play even worse.

It seems unlikely that Hibbert's actions would have actually done anything, however, and one wonders what would have happened had he been more specific and more personal in his complaints, rather than actually talking about the whole team.  Because it wasn't "a lot of selfish people."  It was one.  And the problems, as far as Hibbert was concerned, were not immediately the team's, they were his own.  If he would have confronted Lance more personally, perhaps, and behind the scenes, things might have gone better for everyone.

The article is full of information about this and other things--too much that can be recalled here.  But one interesting tidbit for Blazer fans is the focus of the article on how our former coach Nate McMillan fits into all of this.  It seems like with his first year on the job as an assistant, the team didn't quite feel comfortable in turning to him in these matters of conflict.  They had previously depended a lot upon Brian Shaw, now coaching the Nuggets.  McMillan is well positioned to go to a head coaching job with all the openings this year, though strangely he has been overlooked so far.  And despite his protestations that he enjoys the job there in Indiana as an assistant, one has to believe that leaving the toxic situation there would not be the worst thing in the world for him.

Next on the Pacers, a piece by Grantland's Andrew Sharp on Paul George, deals with the missing piece of the equation.  If Hibbert has put himself at the center of all of the Pacers' problems, George has actually embodied the problems of the Pacers most thoroughly.  His streakiness in these playoffs has been strange to watch.  But when he does well, the team is doing well.  We lost sight of this in following Hibbert, who is much more essential to the success of the Pacers generally.  But we remembered it in his absolutely amazing Game Four of the Miami series.

Sharp comes down to two conclusions, one of which is much more narratively friendly than the other.  First, a very comprehensive paragraph, which comes down to this:

He’s basically the prototype wing that any team wants to build around, and he’s only going to get better over the next few years. If Andrew Wiggins turns into Paul George in four years, no sane basketball fan would dare call him a bust.

Then another paragraph, which comes down to this:

He’s Indiana’s superstar by default, but unless he gets hot taking all of those ridiculous 3s, he’ll generally leave you underwhelmed.

It's telling that the first involves a hypothetical, and a reference to the prototypical, and to future projections, while the second involves past tendencies, habits, repeated things we have witnessed.  But what's odd about George is that both of them: as Sharp says, "the more we see him in these playoffs, the more I think both of those paragraphs are right."

It's a question though of which is easier to talk about, however.  And it is definitely easier (for writers other than those on Grantland, who excel at considering the fictional or counter-factual) to talk about what could have been in terms of what is, than it is to talk about the actual in terms of the hypothetical.  George is not entirely like James Harden, who is a player with a lot of potential who is beginning to squander it.  But he has been put in the same position as Harden, and it is not hard to see his story being framed a similar way.  They may well be similar players, actually: excellent role players, on teams where more than that is required of them.  Who ask, essentially, that they carry the team.  The difference is that George has a much wider skill-set, and so still genuinely, whatever the narrative says, seems like he could in fact rise to the occasion; Harden, it turns out, fits the role of role-player much better than as the fulcrum or lynchpin of an offense.  But the door hasn't shut yet.

His victory, too, should he rise to the occasion, would be a much more moral one than Harden's: there is nothing quite at stake for Harden if he does well, other than glamour.  He's already been in some way morally compromised as far as our story about him goes--we didn't quite find it too odd when pictures surfaced of him smoking hookahs with some women in Portland the day before Game 4 in that series.  George, though, as Sharp details, referring back to an excellent 2013 profile by Lee Jenkins of SI, that George from quite a young age had to deal with putting things on his back, with carrying a group of people--namely his family, after his mother had a stroke.  We ridicule the fishing trip that seemed to be responsible for Hibbert's turnaround, but I would never see Harden doing such a thing.  And whilst he blamed "home cooking" for some of Indiana's problems in Miami, he distanced himself from Lance Stephenson's antics in a way that was generally tactful.  His success is in some way the success of a genuinely good man over circumstances that would corrupt him or bring him low--which is perhaps why we want it so badly, and are so disappointed (and even suspect him of being morally compromised) when he doesn't deliver.

Next, a great article by Kirk Goldsberry at Grantland on Russell Westbrook, which manages to provide a different and more interesting narrative about him and his efficiency as a player than the ones to which we are used.  Sometimes a look at a player's development has a way of cutting through the miasma of opinions hovering about him.  Goldsberry lines up the stats throughout his career, and produces his patented (at least I hope he has it patented) graphic about them, and the results are interesting.

What they show is that indeed Westbrook develops as a player, and that whatever we think of his play, it is not through being mistaken in his execution.  He has willed himself deliberately into this style of player, whatever that is.  Particularly his "wild" pullup three, which is so arbitrary-seeming on the one hand, and so devastating on the other, when it goes in.  And that makes things a bit more interesting.  Westbrook clearly has some idea of the kind of player he wants to be and look like--it's just that we actually have no clear idea of what this is ourselves, nor how to evaluate it.

It explains something of what is so arresting, disturbing, about watching him: he has a very distinct style of play, despite the randomness.  His playing style might be more similar to his manner of dress than we might suppose.

Goldsberry approaches saying something of this sort, though he doesn't quite get there.  His point, which is a great one, is simply that his moments of brilliance are not to be depended upon, though in a way the fate of the Western Conference depends on them: because when he plays brilliantly, there is nothing that can really stop the Thunder.

There was, finally, another interesting story on psychology and its effect in the world of sports by Brian Shroeder at Hardwood Paroxysm.  Shroeder talks about Donald Sterling's alleged alzheimer's disease, and does so with a personal narrative that is entirely, sadly typical of what the experience is like.  What he refutes is the idea that because the disease messes with the mind, it makes the statements that are said somehow the statements of someone who is, effectively, mad.

That is, what makes Sterling's statements still his own--besides the long pattern of racism in his policies as a businessman (and which I myself think should count most in all this)--is precisely what makes alzheimer's disease so terrifying: it is indeed you who are saying the things, it is just that you also have forgotten who you are and what has happened to you.  In madness, we become a different person, or different people; in alzheimers, we forget who we are.

And, because this is all quite depressing news about people succumbing to problems, I want to include one little story about overcoming, by Andrew A. McNeil at 48MinutesofHel.com.  It's on Cory Joseph's unbelievable dunk in Game 4 right on the head of Serge Ibaka.  The performance of Joseph throughout the series was amazing: not only in that game, but in last night's overtime series-clincher for the Spurs in which the Tony Parker did not even play in the second half.  McNeil tries to give some sense of just what it meant to the Spurs, recalling just how scared the Spurs were of going into the paint in the previous game.

Joseph's dunk on Ibaka just showed a fearlessness that the Spurs absolutely needed at that moment.  And a little craziness too.  It was very Manu of him: that element of strangeness that sort of disregards the machine and the system and yet only by doing something even more right and brilliant than what Pop could come up with.  As McNeil put it:

The Spurs showed no hesitation in Game 5 at going to the basket and mixing it up inside with Ibaka and the rest of the Thunder. It was like your mom turning on the light in your closet and showing you there were no monsters actually lurking there. You could be told so until the cows come home, but seeing is believing.

The Spurs have immense mental control--probably the best in the league.  But sometimes actions are necessary, getting a little out of the head.  It leaves you to wonder how this lesson didn't stick with the Pacers.  But it did work for the Spurs.  For a brief moment, the could stop thinking about everything they were thinking about, and engage in the benefits of forgetting--in a way, memory to the Spurs is something it is good to lose at times, given the memories of the OKC series in 2012 and in general just all the memories floating around due to how long the core players have been around the league.  Being there before should dispel worries, but sometimes it creates ghosts and boogiemen.  Joseph dispelled them entirely.

Thursday, May 29, 2014

Morning Review, May 29, 2014 - Swagger and Certainty

So, today in NBA writing:, Naturally there's a lot about LeBron's fouls, Lebron's good pass, Lance's ear-blow, the general distraction of Stephenson in general, and Paul George.

But Jason Whitlock has the most interesting column, which is essentially about whether the Pacers can really be happy about their season has gone on so long. He is a bit too hard I think on the Pacers (and especially Frank Vogel), but his attempts to try and cut through the crap do leave us with some interesting reflections.

He first considers the Pacers in the light of the sports ethicist's argument that what matters is the journey and the conduct more than the endpoint.  And by that standard says he has has thoroughly had enough of this team.  But then he simply asks about whether it is fun and exciting to watch them anymore, to which he has to give the answer of no.

As he puts it: "What's the point of winning 56 games, securing the No. 1 seed in the East, and making it to the final four if it creates zero joy, if it inspires little championship swagger?"

That's a real, real interesting question.  Even when they win this much, can Indiana fans say they're actually happy?  Indiana fans, according to Whitlock, at least have to wonder about this.

Now, winning matters, and it is productive to keep the focus there: championing a team because it plays "good basketball" over someone who actually wins games can harbor resentment and righteousness more than a moral awareness.  But everyone knows the difference between an earned and an unearned victory.  And the Pacers wins feel unearned, in some way--as if they are merely a matter of course for the team, a matter of accident and good fortune just coming to sit in the lap of a dysfunctional franchise.  In the end, how many of us can say it would be good to see them in the Finals?

--

Next, Zach Lowe has an article trying to pinpoint for people the exact impact of Ibaka to the Thunder.  He does it in order to chase away the extreme capriciousness of the media over the course of this series, which went from talking about a Spurs blowout, to Ibaka singlehandedly defeating the Dpurs.

On this he has a good point, which is put excellently: "Anyone proclaiming a counterfactual outcome with certainty is usually selling you garbage."  It's something that happens a lot in sports commentary, often just innocently for hype, but also in ways that confuses the story.

he then goes on to talk about the Harden trade, and the new argument that is emerging around it: that basically the Thunder made the right decision getting rid of Harden.  This comes on the heel of Harden's bizarre and unsatisfying performance against Portland (in many ways caused by Wesley Matthews shutting Harden down), and the obvious value Ibaka has to the Thunder in these big games.

The right answer is always: they could have kept both!  But Lowe breaks things down minutely and seems to come down on the side that, well, if they did have to make a trade, Ibaka is in a way more understandable than Harden, because he adds to their defense, and they already have enough shooters.

--

Finally, BallerBall has a great set of memes that Dwight Howard would make as he sits at home in his Texas house watching the playoffs.

Wednesday, May 28, 2014

Morning review, May 28, 2014 - Moves around and about the basketball court

So today there are some fascinating articles out there, three of the best having to do with much that is happening off the court rather than on it.  Or rather, moves around about about the court, involving, positioning, strategy, branding, stats, identity:

The first is yet another creative article by Scott Cacciola in the New York Times on a new job that has popped up around the NBA player: the personal analytics coach.  The coach breaks down their game and helps them consider their individual numbers.  Analytics tends to be focused on the team as a unit.  Its ability to break down the complex movement of ten people on a basketball court is what has been seen as its source of strength.  Similarly, statistic chasing by individuals on the team is generally considered a horrible thing: think of the flak that Chamberlain gets for it.  But with the move to personalize the use of the data, a new area opens up because of the sophisticated nature of the statistics and the new emphasis of players on being flexible in the task of developing their game--something that comes out of the immense curiosity of many NBA players about themselves and where their skills can take them.  Portland forward Dorell Wright makes a small appearance in the article and says as much: “When I’m getting advice from my coaches, they’re letting me see things, but it’s more about the team,” Cacciola quotes Wright as saying. “When you get information from different people, it can only be a positive.”

The second is an article by Michael McCann at Sports Illustrated going through the legal issues raised by Donald Sterling's response to the lifetime ban, which emerged yesterday right as the Spurs and Thunder began playing.  It goes through the document and outlines the cases Sterling and is lawyers are making.  It also helpfully outlines just what the document is supposed to do: its audience is fellow owners, and Sterling is trying to convince them that it is in their interest to not force him out of the league.  He pushes hard on Mark Cuban's worry that this will lead to a slippery slope whereby owners can be ousted for arbitrary reasons--I think Cuban is figuring out lately that remarks that voice this kind of libertarian refusal to be held responsible by other individuals, parties, or organizations are actually biting him in the butt, and aren't as progressive as he thinks they might be.  Most interestingly, McCann points out that the comments on various incidents in players' behavior tarnishing the league just as much as anything he might do, while legally irrelevant, may have some traction with other owners.  What is clear from all this though is that the further he is in the league, the more this is going to become controversial.

Finally, Kirk Goldsberry has a piece at Grantland about Chris Bosh's development--one that provides a great followup to Jonathan Abrams' great profile of him from last summer.  Most interesting is the way that it involves Bosh having to do two things at once--think as an individual player, and then think about a career.  When he was young, he says, he simply thought being in the NBA would bean you got to be very much like Jordan--the individual player carrying the team.  But then reality sunk in and, as Goldsberry puts it, "his dream of being Toronto’s Jordan never came to pass:"

The Raptors made the playoffs only twice during his tenure, and exited in the first round both times. Then opportunity knocked. ... In the summer of 2010, at 26, while James publicly weighed his free-agency options, Bosh faced his own decision — one that would define his NBA career, along with those of two other superstars, and the trajectory of two franchises. He could be the cornerstone player and the face of the team in Toronto, or he could accept a less glamorous role in a potential dynasty.

It's another story that seems to confirm my suspicion that this was a direction the NBA has been heading since the 90s, away from individualism and towards innovative networks of teamwork, away from Jordan and Kobe and Shaq and towards a more different, stranger, but in many ways much more satisfying form of basketball.  On the other hand, there is the charming detail that despite his extending of his range beyond the three point line, the line itself gives him problems.  "Bosh," Goldsberry says,

says the hardest part about his ongoing range-extension project, has been mental: “The line kind of messes with your head a little bit. I can have my heels on the line and not worry about where I’m at — I just shoot it. But all of a sudden you’re aware of the line and it becomes a psychological thing. But if you can erase that from your brain, things work out pretty well.”

In a way, it's this huge distance between the little things of this nature--I think many people get messed up by precisely this line-awareness problem--and the large scales on which teamwork now is involved, that makes it hard to grasp both of them at once, and understanding how one of the amazing skills of a player like Bosh is to be able to manage them all.

So that's the review for this morning (or early afternoon).  More Portland-specific basketball news and reviews are coming up--I've been a little too hyped on the NBA in general, on these next rounds and covering them too much, rather than all the interesting things that are going on around the franchise this summer. But I've been digging through footage, looking at the news, and have a lot of Blazer-specific content planned.  So stay tuned.

Monday, May 26, 2014

Morning Review, May 26, 2014 - The active forgetting in sports, and the unforgettable weirdness of ownership

Sports writing wages a constant war against comments like this by Tim Duncan, in the postgame interview last night:

Each series is different. … All we can control is Game 4. We need to play better. Talk about whatever you want. They beat us. We’re going to play another game, and we’ll be ready for that one. However you want to twist it or turn it or give credit to whoever, they beat us. We’re moving on.

Duncan was responding to comments about whether the team was thinking about the OKC-Spurs series of 2012, in which OKC came back to win a series that at first seemed a Spurs blowout.

Dan McCarney had this to say in his thorough recap of the game at SpursNation:

You can guarantee there will be plenty cranked out — including on this web site — in the coming days about the potential for a repeat of the Spurs’ collapse against Oklahoma City in the 2012 Western Conference Finals, in which they blew a 2-0 lead with four straight losses. … But while they’ve acknowledged that it’s in the back of their minds in the days leading up to Game 3, Tim Duncan didn’t want to hear it...

“We can’t think like that,” he quoted Duncan as saying.

Athletes want to stay in the present, or at most acknowledge the future; narrative is often about making sense of what is happening as it turns towards the past, what the significance of a moment is in context.  Sportswriting perhaps more than any form of writing has to deal with this problem as soon as it begins to deal with the humans who are involved in sport: its subject is not only the moment itself but the state of mind that wants never in a way to leave it, never quite to make sense of it, but to continue on in performance.  Its subject is strangely the history of the athlete’s active forgetting.

The best sportswriters find some way to deal with this problem: gestures towards statistics and analysis help—like Michael Pina’s excellent look at what happened when Miami went small in Game 3 versus the Pacers--as well as the mere gesture of historical parallels which are invoked not to produce context but to create excitement, as McCarney does.  The result is something that doesn’t quite choose one side or the other, history or the present.  That itself remains open to the present and to this way of dealing with significant.  And this is one of the things that might lend it its particular charm.

It’s a fatiguing process, but an exciting one, and in many ways is athletic in itself.  Luckily though, there are owners for when you get tired.  Because they seem just to hand you stories.

This is what is happening over in Memphis. Chris Mannix this morning posted a absolutely must-read article on the various shenanigans of the owner, Robert Pera, which helps to explain wholly the confusing situation involving Dave Joerger, their coach.  Apparently Pera wanted to challenge Tony Allen and others to a game of one on one basketball.

After Joerger didn’t enjoy this, he wanted to fire him.  But then he kept meddling, meeting with players, making strange suggestions.  He proposed to Mike Miller that he replace Joerger as a player-coach.  I would have paid money to see how the kind, gracious Miller tried to politely refuse.

Matt Moore has a wonderful summary of it, and what Pera’s response to the article this morning has been.  Things continue to unfold right now—apparently Pera has just unfollowed Mannix on Twitter, which is kind of funny—but it seems like Pera is in danger of continuing to look unprofessional as it continues.

And so we get reminded that sometimes narratives are unavoidable, just as every once and a while a team gets reminded that it is just a whimsical episode in the life of a wealthy owner.

Sunday, May 25, 2014

Weekend Review - Expecting the best and seeing the right kind, or: witnessing Jordan and discovering Timmy, Tony, and Manu

After a day off yesterday, I think I decided Sunday should be something like a week in review—some of the best pieces I found myself reading during the week, rather than another day of news and selections.  How’s that sound?  Good? Okay then:

SBNation simply had a huge amount of great content this week, with two really great articles to which I want to draw attention.

The first was Doug Eberhardt’s must read guide to NBA screens.  It’s helpful as a guide—along with his mid-April article on the various ways NBA teams defend the pick and roll.  But it’s also helpful for the tone in which it is discussing the intricacies of basketball.  It’s a progressive tone.  It’s a tone that is on the lookout for novelty.  It looks at what’s happening, and goes, hey maybe we’re all wrong in looking at this and comparing it to what we already know: something new is here, let’s make sense of it.  And it reminds us that it is possible to see these things from a more conservative angle too, and why that doesn’t tell us anything:

“I always hear that NBA players just don't know how to set a solid screen anymore. A lack of old-school fundamentals, they say. Damn that AAU basketball!” Eberthardt says.  “In reality, the nature of setting screens has changed along with the style of NBA offenses.”

As he explains: "you don't always want to stop the on-ball defender. Sometimes, you want to force the defender to actually get over the screen and trigger the rest of the defense to react to your action. Rather than a lower-value medium-range jumper, you want to end up with a strong roll to the rim, a free throw, a pop for a jumper or a drive-and-kick pass for an uncontested three. Points per possession, kids."

That last remark is an invocation of “analytics,” but the division between a progressive and conservative look at basketball goes deeper than that and moves along different lines.  I have the suspicion that in many ways what is being talked about when analytics is invoked is one which trusts in the skill of the NBA player and is comfortable with ignorance in the face of it.  Instead of explaining things in terms of expectations based on experience, it analogizes to past experience in order to ask whether we might generate new expectations—whether we can expect anything new from what is happening.

Of course you need both approaches.  But it’s helpful to analyze from a position that understands that the NBA is a black-box: we don’t know what’s inside it unless we talk about it from the inside.  We can try and open it—by talking to former-players-become-analysts, being on the beat and getting inside scoops, or by analysis of stats—but the important thing to remember is sometimes we don’t need to open it to speculate on what is being done.  We don’t need to know the intentions behind a strategy to understand what the strategy does.  That’s the perspective with which this article views its subject (though the intricacies and details themselves came to be known through from Eberhardt's experience and his more intimate, inside view of NBA coaching), and it’s the perspective from which it teaches readers about strategy.

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I bring all this up because the other article that was rewarding to read this week revolved around it also.  David Roth also at SBNation wrote an amazing piece trying to appreciate the Spurs, and to explain why he never did appreciate them.  He explains his relationship to the Spurs as a form of growing up, of, in a way, learning how to watch the game observantly.

It is a piece trying to put the nail in the coffin of “the Spurs are boring” argument, by saying this is an immature way to judge them.  He says that, as a kid, he used to cheer for the Nets and their very individualistic team, rooting for them to do more and more amazing individual feats.  Accordingly, he hated the Spurs precisely for their consistency.

He didn’t envy Spurs fans: he had a blast rooting for a team that wasn’t really as team-centered.  But… "But while it served its purpose," he goes on to say, "I missed a great many things by making this team so thoroughly my own and myself so thoroughly its. I told myself lies about Derrick Coleman's potential, and I made Kenny Anderson into something he couldn't possibly have been. I saw Michael Jordan play at his very best and did nothing but curse the slack, goofy, inevitably-overmatched Chris Morris for not being able to stop him. I screamed myself blind. I was a fan, forgive me. I was not nearly grown."

Essentially what he’s explaining is what I’m trying to say about evaluating without expectations.  I myself wouldn’t call that view childish, or exempt professions (non-fans) from it.  But it is a great statement about how that view is blinkered.  And it is apt because it also points to the possible origin of that more demanding, more close-minded analytic approach.

For the mention of Jordan isn’t coincidental.  I’m currently making my way through Roland Lazenby’s wonderful new life of Michael Jordan, and one thing I find myself wondering is whether watching basketball can ever be the same after seeing him challenge opponents like he did with Chris Morris here.
That is, I find myself wondering about his effect on the game—and whether it was good.  One thing that wasn’t, I’m speculating, may have been what it did to us watching them.  He taught us to expect more.  To raise our expectations higher of what a basketball player can do.  And to look at other players as insufficient performers, as people—quite simply—you should ask more from.

It’s not Jordan’s fault he accomplished this, if this is so.  And it couldn’t be intentional, though it surely also came out of the immense drive that motivated him.  We might say he introduced into the analysis and evaluation of basketball a quantitative idea of qualitative excellence: the idea that the best is the most perfect.  This would be opposed to the right kind of perfect: a purely qualitative idea, a holism.  And in a way our fascination with the former may have blinded us to the latter.

This might be a typically “soft” approach to basketball, one that enjoys the “new” NBA and analyzing with “analytics” rather than on guts and the eye-test and memories of the Bad Boys and Bird (for the record, I’m actually quite a believer in the eye-test as the only real test, but that’s for another day).  It’s the view that would see holes in what Jordan does, that would see something wrong with his game, and that ultimately wants to say other people are better than him—people like Lebron.

In truth, I’m probably more of the school of Bill Simmons (on this point, at least), who spends pages and pages precisely saying that we can’t go down these lines, and compare Lebron to Jordan: that Jordan is the best, the most perfect, that we’ll never again see anything like him.  But I also think that in a way all this does is say that the most perfect is the most perfect, when there are also other kinds of perfect—the kinds that are the right kind at the right moment.  Jordan, in short, won the entire game of basketball.  But perhaps—here’d be the furthest reach of this argument—he also was only the right kind of perfect for the right moment.

If that’s the case, then it’s possible also to appreciate the Spurs, right now, as the best.  Because we wouldn’t be expecting more than our previous notions of the best from them, so much as simply looking for what they do.  "Some of these players did more than others," Roth says, "but the defining characteristic of the various and oddly-similar championship teams on which they [the Spurs players] played was that none were asked to do things they could not do. This was true of the team's stars, too, who could of course do so much more."

We wouldn’t be evaluating with expectations: we wouldn't be asking them to do anything more than what they do either.  Instead, we might be participating in a kind of discovery of new things to do with a ball and a hoop.

And yet, this is also ultimately what I find a little problematic about what Roth goes on to say: because he doesn’t quite go on to say what is so right right now about this kind of basketball, what makes it a new and appropriate kind of excellence for this moment, and within the history of the game.

"The Spurs have not changed,” Roth says, "and that is the essence of what makes and keeps them great. They have found a way to do things that work well and maintained the humility to work that way for a shared end. For all the reasons we might watch a game, this more modest transcendence -- individuals into a whole, faith in a process made legible and even beautiful -- is not nearly the most vivid."

That’s true, but it would seem from what he says that it’s a tradeoff between the amount of excellence we can see in a player, and the type of excellence the Spurs display.  That it isn't a bad thing to leave the one behind and go on to understand and appreciate the other, just as growing up isn't a bad thing.  It’s the difference, as he'd more particularly characterize it, between rooting for best that an individual can accomplish, and merely appreciating the beauty of what a team does—team basketball.

But it feels less like holism and maturity than a sweet fondness, a different kind of fandom (one better than a thousand analyses): it's an evaluation that hasn't come to its end yet, that is waiting for an even better way to explain how good they are.  Because it’s not true that the Spurs haven’t changed.  What is most impressive about these Spurs, and what makes their basketball so interesting, is their adaptability, is their immense flexibility.  It is, in other words, the sort of ability to how players can "fit" which Roth points out, only with the flip side of this acknowledged: that it is also ability to expand into new dimensions as a unit, to do new and weird things.

This would be the area to expand upon if we were really to try and see what is right about this team; it seems not only to prove the excellence Jordan’s era gave us as something that blinded us to what the Spurs have been so good at doing, but also to show what they have been doing is something precise that they are supremely, historically excellent at.