I just noticed that famous basketball pundit Bill Simmons has echoed JSB basketball correspondent Hoops McCann's theory that Kevin Garnett's turned-up-to-11 effort in the regular season doesn't necessarily translate to post-season success.
Here are Hoop's conference final picks.
Last night apparently Lebron James's mom got angry and tried to leap from the stands and fight the Celtics much vaunted big three. And the big three looked really worried and scared because they are that way. Or something like that. I wasn't watching the game, but JSB special basketball correspondent Hoops McCann obviously was, and he files this dispatch on the NBA playoffs going forward.
Check to see if Hoops can overcome his Phoenix skepticism and his Philly love in his first round playoff picks.
They took a poll and basketball lost. According to Harris Interactive only 4 percent of US adults who follow at least one sport list pro basketball as their favorite. And what exactly did the NBA lose to? Well the NHL, which doesn't really have a national TV contract yet was able garner five percent of the vote. Usually this is when I'd make a joke about Canada, but I already did that earlier today in another post.
Although, if you assume 100 million Americans follow at least one sport, that still means there are 5 million pro basketball fanatics. None more so than JSB basketball correspondent Hoops McCann. Hoops makes the case that more people should be following The Association because season is starting to get really exciting -- especially out West -- in his latest dispatch.
Tonight's match up between the Boston Celtics and Detroit Pistons boasts the third highest combined winning percentage of the NBA's shot clock era. Tomorrow night "The Wire," a television show some critics consider the greatest of any era, returns for a fifth season.
JSB basketball correspondent Hoops McCann also returns -- from wherever he was -- to compare the gritty crime drama to the Boston Celtics' best player. Check it out here.
In his latest dispatch, JSB basketball correspondent Hoops McCann discusses Philadelphia 76er backup guard Louis Williams. Williams is not famous and you've never heard of him. Which is basically what they used to say about text messaging. I watched Williams play for the first time tonight and, wouldn't you know, he scored a quick, albeit garbage time, 25 points. And this isn't the first time this year Williams has had that type of offensive explosion. So Hoops could on to something. Or not. Click here to be the first (and maybe last) in your social circle to have read anything about Louis Williams.
Count me as one who thought the NBA had a relatively successful off-season -- not only wasn't anybody shot, but I can't recall hearing about any gun play at all. As is his wont, JSB basketball correspondent Hoops McCann uses a far more complex matrix when assessing off-season success. Hoops breaks down the NBA's summer of discontent and makes a few predictions in his first 2007-2008 dispatch. Check it out here.
Speaking of predictions, this here very blogger predicted the Red Sox's would not only win the World Series, but would cement their reputation as the new "evil empire" -- as they have done. I also nailed the entire American League playoffs. In about a week, if Jimmy Rollins is awarded the NL MVP -- and I think he will be -- I may have to pat myself on the back again for being perhaps the only person who records things publicly to foresee that one coming.
The verdict is in, and Isiah Thomas's improper touching -- as well as the b-bombs the New York Knicks' head coach and president of basketball operation was under the mistaken impression were racially protected -- will cost his Knickerbockers at least 11.6 million dollars. (Although, unlike Isiah's other mistakes, I'm told this figure will not count against the team's salary cap)
James Dolan, the Knicks' owner and idiot son of Cablevision, will be personally liable for about 3 million dollars of the damages. Even though the jury deadlocked on whether Isiah, the harasser himself, should also be forced to reach into his own pocket and pay the aggrieved female team executive.
Some might think this financial hit will finally push Dolan to end Isiah's absurd reign of embarrassing terror over at Madison Square Garden. I disagree. To put everything into perspective, 11.6 million is still considerably less than the 20 million dollars the Knicks paid Allan Houston* to talk on ESPN last year, but, admittedly, more than the 8 million dollars the team will be paying Malik Rose to sit on the bench in a nice suit this year.
Of course if Isiah was a better executive he would have figured out a way to integrate his sexual harassment and his doling out of enormous sums of money to employees who don't do any actual work: I'm thinking something along the lines of Jared Jeffries in lipstick and a wig.
* I know, Allan Houston wasn't Isiah's fault. But 16 million dollar man Steve Francis was. And, last year, Francis made it even worse by occasionally playing.
** Here's a famous photo of Isiah playing kissy-poo during happier, less litigious times.
Kobe Bryant seems to garner a lot of hate these days. It always baffles me when someone hates someone else they don't know personally. My bafflement doubles when this hatred is directed towards a man who throws a ball through a hoop for a living.
Getting past my zen-like tolerance, there are many reasons Kobe Bryant is hated -- involving things like petulance, a self-serving nature and rape. But I think Kobe's biggest problem might be his name: Kobe.
I say this in praise of Kobe -- it's a really cool name. Of either Hebrew or Japanese origin it is, outside the realm of high quality steak, quite unique, yet sounds familiar enough not to be jarring.
Two simple but strong syllables -- and it looks even better on paper. Kobe, in any typesetting, has the flow of a logo. Think how much more visually appealing Kobe is than the more traditional Coby.
So that's probably when the hate started: When Kobe was presented to us as the 17-year old wunderkind with the perfectly constructed name. From the beginning, it was almost like Kobe was more corporation than human. And few pull for the corporation.
Ironically Kobe's father, who probably named him, went by Jellybean during his own NBA career. Now that's a name which would humanize even the most soulless cyborg.
Of course Jellybean wasn't Joseph Bryant's given name. Just like Hoops isn't Mordecai McCann's given name.
Hoops talks hobbits and bigger beings named Kobe in his latest dispatch.
As the NBA cracks down on the contact teams have with high school and college prospects -- recently Boston Celtics' General Manager Danny Ainge was fined 30,000 dollars for sitting next to University of Texas star Kevin Durant's mother during one of her son's games -- some NBA executives are complaining that Charlotte Bobcat minority owner and primary basketball operations decision maker Michael Jordan has unfair, unregulated access to future NBA players through his high school all-star games and Flight School camps.
The camps, where adults pay to be instructed by top players and coaches, are especially sticky because they are staffed with high school and college stars -- who are essentially getting paid by Jordan himself.
Rival teams claim this unique arrangement could give Charlotte a heads up on when certain players will enter the draft, and also helps the Bobcatts establish relationships which could be exploited down the road when free agency comes into play.
Of course these executives -- a list I have to assume doesn't include any members of the Washington Wizards' organization -- have overlooked the great equalizer in this equation: Michael Jordan is running the Charlotte Bobcats' basketball operations.
With selection Sunday in the books, and the field of 65 in the brackets, focus now shifts to overall number one seed Florida's attempt to be the first school since the Duke Blue Devils of 1991-1992 to win back-to-back NCAA basketball championships.
While one could say the Gators caught a few breaks in terms of their tournament opponents last year, Duke's two-year run was peppered with epic wins over the premier programs of the day, and punctuated by 1991's surprise Final Four victory over the undefeated defending champion UNLV Running Rebels -- a team well into the argument for the greatest of all-time -- and 1992's title game dismantling of Michigan's nascent Fab Five.
The tiger that never roared during that golden age of NCAA hoops were the Bayou Bengals of LSU. The Dale Brown coached squad should have had three years of thirty point-a-game Pete Maravich remix Chris Jackson leading twin nimble seven-foot, 300 plus pounders Shaquille O'Neal and Stanley Roberts in what had the potential to be the most unique and potent lineup in college basketball history. Those who were there remember Roberts was the better of the big men when he and Shaq played together as freshmen.
Unfortunately for that plan Jackson went pro with two years of eligibility left, and, after only one year in Baton Rogue, Roberts suspiciously slipped to Europe and the professional dollar. With the rest of the would-be finest collegiate triumvirate ever departed, Shaq racked up the individual accolades, but LSU always fell well short at tournament time.
Chris Jackson became Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf and Stanley Roberts became overweight and drug addicted. Despite flashes of brilliance, neither made much of an impact in the Association. Shaq, of course, became the most dominant pro player of his generation.
Hoops McCann thinks college basketball is an amateur game which entertains those with amateur minds. As the peons embrace the madness of March, Hoops has been busy pondering the rejuvenation of grown-up Shaquille O'Neal. He talks Big Aristotle and Sir Anthony Hopkins in his latest dispatch.
During the 80's and early 90's the slam dunk contest captivated basketball fans. Unfortunately the intense adulation for graceful feats of sky walking led a generation of young basketball players to believe being "like Mike" wasn't emulating the endless hours MJ spent working on his shooting and basic fundamentals, but instead focusing a good part of their basketball development on moves rarely used in an actual game.
Consequently the quality of American basketball has slipped. Now the best player on the best team in the NBA -- and the likely league MVP -- is a German, the league's two-time defending MVP is a middle aged, South African-born Canadian, the number one pick in last year's draft was an Italian, and when the United States plays other top basketball playing countries in international competition we have just as good of a chance of losing as we do winning.
Our only hope is the rest of the world will get as hung up on the superfluous slam dunk -- and the easy gratification of the oohs and the aahs that it brings -- as we did.
There have been promising developments on that front in Europe, where slam dunk contests have been popping up all over the place. Only if all European contestants are as earth bound as the fellow in the video above, I can't see the slam dunk catching on to the point of poisoning the continent's youth.
Of course the whole thing may have been a clever ploy to get to know a cheerleader better.
Off the court issues have dominated The Association today:
First we got word that John Amaechi, a former journeymen center of some repute, has proudly come out as a gay American. Actually, that is not true. The Manchester-born Amaechi was the first NBAer to complain to the refs in a proper English accent.
Now he is the first to come out as a homosexual. Coincidence? I report, you decide.
In more brutally violent news, it seems purging themselves of Ron Artest and Stephen Jackson hasn't solved the Indiana Pacers' beating-people-up problem. Last night Jamaal Tinsley and Marquis Daniel allegedly fist pounded an Indianapolis bar manager to the point of ear severance. The players deny the charges against them.
Bar brawls and "I'm coming out" autobiographies might grab the headlines but, as usual, Hoops McCann is doing the dirty work of between the baselines basketball analysis.
Here is his latest dispatch.
It's been more than two years since Latrell Sprewell brushed off an "insulting" three-year 21 million dollar contract extension from the Minnesota Timberwolves because he had a "family to feed." Then he inexplicably dropped off the face of the basketball earth.
But his quote lingered and Sprewell become the poster child for the selfish, spoiled athlete.
Being the optimist I am, I saw personal growth while the others saw ingratitude -- and why would you criticize a guy for thinking of his family when, five years earlier, that same guy would have literally choked the life out of the poor minion sent to him with a contract offer of any thing less than ten million per year?
I'm still trying to figure out where I stand on the latest news item involving Sprewell and comically inflated financial terms: The one where the mother of four of his children is suing him for 200 million dollars because he backed out of an implied "long term cohabitation deal."
My first feeling was relief. Now we know at least four of Sprewell's brood have beat the odds and received enough sustenance to survive their father's premature unemployment. Then, when I read Sprewell's current habitation is a yacht on a Wisconsin lake, I had to laugh because who doesn't think it's funny that Latrell Sprewell spends his winters on a yacht on a Wisconsin lake rather than on the basketball court with his contemporaries.
I also noticed the name of Spree's yacht is "Milwaukee's Best."
If I was lucky enough to get to live on a yacht on a lake in Wisconsin, I too would christen the boat "Milwaukee's Best." I couldn't even imagine calling it anything else.
I'm having trouble remembering another time Latrell Sprewell and I had something in common.
The panel of judges is known to appreciate a good sport's fight. Basketball brawls always move to the top of the list because basketball players -- who don't hide behind helmets or caps or race cars -- are our most recognizable athletes. When the b-ballers go at it, it's like you're back in high school witnessing a three o'clock showdown.
When we got together yesterday we discussed our favorite basketball fights: Dr. J pounding on Larry Bird as a young Charles Barkley held Bird back, an older Charles Barkley rolling around on the court with comic book villain Bill Laimbeer and, of course, everybody's personal favorite of Larry Johnson and Alonzo Mourning matching frenzied combinations as the middle-aged and balding coach Jeff Van Gundy held on for dear life.
All those fights were battles between big game players in big games. They were quick explosions of raw, unpracticed emotion. The punchs thrown were just as likely to break the puncher's hand or separate his shoulder as they were to do damage to the intended target.
And then there was what went on Saturday night at Madison Square Garden between the New York Knicks and Denver Nuggets.
In a pathetic display of premeditation and posturing the centerpiece of this pointless, rambling brawl was the technically sound sucker punch Denver Nugget and NBA scoring leader Carmelo Anthony landed on Mardy Collins, who had instigated the brawl with a hard, illegal foul on Anthony's teammate JR Smith.
Not only was Collins fully restrained when Anthony landed the punch -- a good twenty seconds after the initial foul -- but Anthony began backing away immediately after the punch landed. To make matters worse, the Knick player who pursued Anthony after he started to back peddle was Jared Jeffries, arguably the skinniest player in the league.
So you have Anthony, who has always presented himself as a "from the streets" tough guy, punching a defenseless man and then fleeing from a stick figure -- not his proudest moment.
In another unfortunate twist the main escalator of the brawl was Nate Robinson. Most suspect the 5'6 guard jumped in not for love his teammates, but for the Napoleonic issues he tends to work out publicly -- previously with foolish attempts at dunks.
The NBA's two decade long slide from substance to style has been well-documented. It now appears the once hallowed basketbrawl has also fallen victim to this transformation.
Anytime grown men put up their dukes without a chance of serious injury you are witnessing the definition of an idle threat.
For that we can award the Denver Nuggets and New York Knicks the Idle Threat of the Week for December 11-17. It is certainly the highest accolade the Knicks will garner this season.
Bonus Video: The NBA's top ten fights. (This was before the '04 brawl in Auburn Hills)
Update: 15 games for Anthony seems harsh. Ten for JR Smith seems unfair -- especially with Nate Robinson getting the same ten. Not content just to ruin the Knicks season it looks like Isiah Thomas' sore-loser thugishness has ruined the Nuggets' season too. The man is incorrigible.
Update 2: Bill Simmons thinks Isiah wasn't suspended because that makes it harder for Dolan to fire him (you probably can't fire or trade -- for that who's getting Iverson matter -- a suspended player or coach.) That's the best explanation for why-in-the-world-wasn't-Isiah suspended that I've heard.
Contrary to popular belief, Hoops McCann is still a proud resident of New York City. The longtime fixture is often seen cruising Avenue D in his tricked-out Eldorado. Cross him, and expect a thorough pistol-whipping. And yes, Hoops still celebrates Sunday on a Saturday night -- or any other night he pleases.
When Hoops isn't drinking his dinner from a paper sack, he's thinking about the Association and in particular his hometown New York Knicks. He documents the sad saga of Isiah Thomas and your 2006-2007 Knickerbockers in his latest dispatch.
Hoops McCann spends his afternoons lounging with Klaus and The Rooster and his nights running with Kid Charlemagne. Now that's a fast bunch, anytime of the day. I've been lucky enough to hang with Hoops and his boys before, and I've noticed they tend to speak to each other in staccato bursts of coded hipness. Quite frankly, I never understand what they are talking about. I'm just happy to be there.
When I brought Hoops on as jsb's special basketball correspondent I was concerned his speaking style might seep into his written prose. It has been noted that his first two dispatches, while probably brilliant, have thoroughly confused the bulk of jsb's readership.
It was with great trepidation I informed Hoops of this outcome. He was surprisingly gracious and agreed to address the problem. His latest effort -- on the struggles of Steve Nash and the Phoenix Suns -- displays a startling turn towards lucidity. Check it out here.
