NBA

Shocker in Gloomtown

Filed under: NBA

I must admit that I have slightly mixed feelings about the Timberwolves 117-107 victory over the Suns on Wednesday night. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for the Wolves; they’ve officially got their first winning streak of the year and in the last week they’ve gone 2-1 against three playoff teams (and really, they should’ve won that third one). Things are really looking up and Randy Foye isn’t even scrimmaging yet. But—and I realize that this is a rather embarrassing thing to say about sports for a grown man who, you know, reads books and stuff—I have a deep and emotional investment in the Phoenix Suns. Just to warn you, this next bit is something of a digression. If you don’t really care what I lose sleep over (totally understandable), you can just skip this next section and go straight to the part where I actually, like, talk about the game.

Who Loves the Suns

When they shocked the league in 2004-2005, first by signing Steve Nash and then by dominating the regular season with a 62-20 record, Phoenix seemed to be an anarchic assault on the NBA’s conventional wisdom. While, for at least a decade, teams had been built on the premise that patience and discipline were the cardinal virtues of offense, the Suns relentlessly ran the break with what seemed like chaotic abandon, not appearing to care much for defense, firing, with no conscience, the first open shot (preferably a three) to come their way. Their lineup was just as radical, employing three perimeter players and no traditional big man. The “center” position was reimagined nightly by the audaciously explosive Amare Stoudemire, a 6’10”, 22-year-old manchild/supernova who seemed to just brim with a ruthless desire to fucking dunk on everybody.

But Nash was, and is, the visionary center of the team. He carves up the floor in unprecedented ways, creating and then exploiting strange new passing angles with his seemingly meandering (but always purposeful) forays through the lane. He gently coaxes a defense into confusion—heads turned, eyes googly—and when the pass finally comes, it is usually just before or just after it is expected. The result is usually somehow both fantastical and blindingly obvious—an lob to the guy who just set the pick; a wide open three; a left handed, behind-the-back pass to a teammate standing, magically, all alone under the hoop. Of all the Suns, Nash is the one who most approaches a traditional NBA archetype: the point guard/floor general, the playmaker who, through his uncanny logic and vision, enables the entire process. That an offense could seamlessly combine such incredible, ruthless abandon with such breathtaking skill and finesse left me frankly awed and almost terrified. Left me feeling that, good lord, so very many things are possible.

With time, and the slight slowing of their pace it’s become apparent that the Suns were always a bit more conventional and systematic than most thought. In fact—as it is, in the end, with most revolutions I guess—the Suns were more nostalgic than revolutionary, throwbacks to the Lakers-Celtics era of relentless speed and fluid passing (with a few modern twists: the reliance on the three-point shot, the 6’10” super-athlete) before Michael Jordan’s singular genius changed the style paradigm for a generation (and, as a reaction to both movements, the majority of teams turned to brutal, suffocating defense and half-court monotony). At the core of the Suns' system is basic, fundamental basketball: the pick-and-roll; ball movement; the well-spaced floor; solid aggressive defense (you might laugh at that one, but check their defensive efficiency last year). It’s just that the Suns do it with astounding speed, skill and creativity, revealing that even the most predictable play can bloom in myriad astonishing ways. At their best, the Suns illustrate what is so outrageously awesome about the NBA, the synthesis of stolid “play the right way” purism and highlight reel individualism: that real team basketball at its best actually enables individual creativity and expression, gives it structure and context. That this delicate balance can foster ends both pragmatic/communal (i.e. wins) and also aesthetic or personal—little things like, y’know, joy and beauty.

So that’s why I’ve got my heart so deep into the Suns, because I can’t stand the thought that this team could be written off (as is beginning to seem possible) just because they haven’t yet won a title. That their approach to the game could ever be deemed inferior to that of the Spurs’ passionless and methodical conservatism. I know this is American pro sports and that the cult of quantifiable success is invincible, but I think it would be a tragedy if this group and their idea fell by the wayside, recognized only for being “entertaining,” that venerable backhanded compliment that implies style, sure, but no substance. As if outright victory were the only marker of substance; as if style itself were not substance.

Boredom is Counterrevolutionary

Thus, the slightly sour taste in my mouth as the Suns played with none of their customary verve in losing to the Wolves. Not to minimize the home team’s accomplishment—they played with energy and confidence the entire game—but Phoenix, playing for the fifth time in seven nights, looked fatigued, showing only flashes of their customary pace and fluidity. After the game Nash lamented that his team played with “not enough pride, not enough consistency,” that they were practicing complacency (he claimed, convincingly, not to care about the standings, which currently say that his team is the best in the Western Conference. Instead, he was concerned about “building good habits.” This almost cavalier attitude toward the traditional signposts of success, this favoring of process over result, is vintage Nash). He and Stoudemire, both played well—Nash had 16 assists and 21 points while Stoudemire hit an outrageous 14 of 16 shots for 33 points—but Shawn Marion was a total no-show, taking only three shots in 32 minutes and pulling in just three rebounds, a full seven below his average.

To be fair to Marion, his teammates did not fare much better on the glass. Minnesota out-rebounded Phoenix 48-26; in a stat that you will almost never see in a professional game, they gathered 22 offensive rebounds to only 23 defensive boards for the Suns. Realize that this means that Minnesota rebounded nearly half of their own missed shots. Allowing a team to rebound its own miss is functionally the same as a turnover; you are literally giving a team an extra possession. And, predictably, the Suns’ generosity (or boredom, or the Wolves’ tenacity, or a combination) translated directly into points for the Wolves, 26 to be exact.

Jefferson in Paris

Big Al Jefferson had a bananas game. He went 15-29 for a career-high 39 points along with 15 rebounds, eight of them on offense. The Suns’ game plan was to move Jefferson toward the center of the court, preventing him from using his quickness on the baseline but he repeatedly blew by Stoudemire with baseline spin moves and Phoenix’s double teams and weakside help were a step late all night. And yet, somehow, he finished the game -4 (that is, the Wolves were outscored by four when he was on the floor) while backups like Craig Smith Antoine Walker and Corey Brewer were all at least +11. The biggest reason for this weird disparity is that, when the Suns were on offense, Stoudemire utterly abused Jefferson. He may not be quite the freakish athlete that he once was (although he is certainly a more polished basketball player having improved his ballhandling and shooting) but when he plays off of Nash, Stoudemire is nearly unstoppable. He made big Al look slow and helpless.

With that matchup a wash, it was incumbent on the Wolves’ bench to take advantage when the Suns’ best players were off the floor. And take advantage they did; Minnesota’s game-breaking 28-7 first half run (from which Phoenix never recovered) came almost entirely in play between the two teams’ second units, when Jefferson, Nash and Stoudemire were out of the game and Leandro Barbosa was Phoenix's point guard. Barbosa is incredibly fast and a dynamic scorer, especially when he is on the floor with Nash, but he has not yet shown (and may never show) that he can consistently run Phoenix’s offense. (Barbosa was -18, the worst on either team, while Nash led Phoenix with +6). The Suns are normally able to overcome the stretch of averageness that sets in when Nash sits. But against Minnesota the hole was too deep and they just weren’t able, or willing, to expend the necessary defensive effort. Nonetheless, this was a huge accomplishment for the Wolves and especially for Jefferson. In the fourth quarter, when Phoenix's offense finally began to flow and they looked ready to make a final push, it was the T-Wolves' newfound courage and Jefferson’s commanding play that held them off.

Posted by Benjamin Polk at January 25, 2008 2:41 AM | Comments (2)

 

A Team Worse Than Death

Filed under: NBA

I was just a little disappointed to see that, due to the fact that his body is disintegrating, Shaquille O’Neal wouldn’t be in the active roster for the Heat on Tuesday. This feeling came as a surprise to me since I’ve deeply hated the guy ever since he put on that next 60 pounds of muscle, joined the Lakers and stopped running or dribbling. I realize that he was (and is) a freakish athletic phenomenon—and also that he weirdly seems to have a good sense of humor—but his brutalist playing style was as awesome and terrifying and inevitable as an East Berlin housing project. The kind of thing that was designed solely to crush spirits. He was effective (horribly, horribly effective), but his play was joyless and oppressive (also boring) and, as far as I’m concerned, it just wasn’t basketball (and if you disagree with me, you are a Laker fan). Nonetheless, I guess I was looking forward to seeing the aging Diesel—probably a combination of perverse fascination and a very guilty pleasure in his accelerating decline.

Timberwolf Bar Mitzvah

In any case, the Heat have more to worry about than the aesthetic/political shortcomings of Shaq’s game, as their 101-91 loss to the Timberwolves revealed. Like, for instance, the fact that his and Alonzo Mourning’s absence meant that Mark Blount, Minnesota’s favorite dead-eyed, non-rebounding former seven footer, found himself in the starting lineup. (If you didn’t think Blount was dishearteningly unaggressive while he was a Timberwolf, consider the fact that he allowed himself, at certain points in the game, to be guarded by the 6'7" Ryan Gomes without once attempting to score inside.) These and other injuries forced both coaches into unusually small starting fives—the Wolves started Ryan Gomes, Bassie Telfair, Rashad McCants, Al Jefferson and Marko Jaric, all but one of whom is under 6’8”—and play early on was a feast of cutting, switching, screening and generally awesome running around. It was like college basketball except all the players were better. (I’m not really sure why, but when LCD Soundsystem’s “Daft Punk is Playing at My House” came over the PA during one timeout, my brain automatically linked the song and my glee at the small lineups. Maybe they engender the same sort of heady optimism, that feeling of something potentially transcendent on the horizon. Or maybe it means that I am a huge dork.) This style suited the Wolves, especially early on, as they frustrated the Heat with their smooth, energetic offense and swarming D. They caused turnovers (11 by the Heat in the first half vs. just four for the Wolves) and got easy baskets.

Especially heartening was the play of McCants who finished with 27 points on 12 of 24 shooting. McCants has been terrific over the past three games, averaging 27.3 points while shooting an impressive 57%. Although we’re usually told that patience is the cardinal virtue in offensive basketball, McCants’s has improved recently by becoming more aggressive in certain situations. It’s quite true that players (especially guards) need to be judicious about when to force the action and when to allow action to come to them, but when opportunities arise they must act quickly and efficiently. As his many impressive highlights can attest, McCants is tremendously talented but he often seems to have difficulty recognizing these opportunities. Very often he will hold the ball, staring at his opponent, running valuable time off of the shot clock, and allowing weakside defenders to position themselves. This formula causes the offense to bog down as players stop moving, waiting for McCants to do something; the result is usually a forced shot in traffic or a desperate pass to a flat-footed teammate with time running down. Against the Heat, McCants was, for the most part, much more decisive. He played within the flow of the offense and attacked the defense with a mix of mid-range jumpers and well-chosen threes.

Miami Loss Machine

But all of the Wolves impressive accomplishments last night should not obscure the fact that the Heat are a very, very bad team. They have a slightly better record than the Wolves and one of the most beautiful players in the world in Dwyane Wade, but they are probably the most depressing team in the league. Aside from Wade and the hard working Udonis Haslem, they are a queasy mixture of the young and mediocre (Earl Barron, Luke Jackson, Chris Quinn) and the aging and/or washed up (Shaq, Jason Williams; Ricky Davis, whom I dearly love despite everything, is way too young to be either aging or washed up, but, sweet lord, did he ever look lost and uninterested last night). As the game wound down and the Heat came within striking distance after trailing by 10-15 for most of the game, they seemed to just not have the heart to come back in earnest. Wade usually carries a look of bemused calm but today it was more of a grimace; he was unable to force his battered body to the basket and will his team to victory as he did against the Wolves two weeks ago.

For their part, the Wolves showed the same lack of poise in the last five minutes or so that has seen them blow so many leads this season. Coach Randy Wittman criticized his team for passing on open shots late in the game and that was certainly a problem, but to me it pointed to a larger issue. Sebastian Telfair and McCants can both be terrific within the flow of offense and in transition, but both players show their weaknesses in true half-court settings, which all teams, regardless of style, encounter at the end of close games—situations in which guards must be able to penetrate and create opportunities even when their opponent expects them to do just that. Here, Telfair, despite his devastating quickness, revealed himself to be just a so-so one-on-one player thanks to his small size and inconsistent outside shooting; and McCants chose this very moment to revert to his paradoxical bad habit of tentative ball-hogging. Rather than close the game with authority, the Wolves simply allowed the Heat’s badness to manifest itself. This is why I have hope that Randy Foye’s return, whenever it actually happens, can translate directly into wins for the Wolves. Foye is (or has shown the potential to be) just the kind of player who is skilled, shrewd and confident enough to make plays with the game on the line. As the saying goes.

Posted by Benjamin Polk at January 9, 2008 11:49 PM | Comments (0)

 

Let's Do This Again Sometime

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Mikey Hates It

I have a distinct memory of, in a pickup game at my rural college, getting viciously schooled by a skinny, quiet 12-year-old local kid who probably (and quite rightly) knew he would find easy pickings among us hungover, pizza-fed undergrads. With his gangly frame and summer camp good looks, the Pacers’ Mikey Dunleavy has always reminded me of that kid, with a touch of the pampered east coast Brahmin thrown in for good measure (and taller, and better at basketball). So I felt personally vindicated when Sebastian Telfair shook Dunleavy with one of the filthiest crossovers I’ve ever seen. Bassie set him up with two between-the-leg dribbles followed by a little hesitation/shake with his head and right shoulder. When Telfair then explosively crossed ball over to his left, Dunleavy performed an amazing little partially reclined, one-legged wobble and could only catch a glimpse over his shoulder as Telfair finished at the rim with a pretty left-handed scoop.

Punch Me in The Mouth, Please

Telfair played all night as if redemption (possibly of my wheezy, slow-footed 21-year-old self, or possibly of his struggling team—who can really say?) was on his mind. On the face of things, the Wolves seemed to have little shot of stealing a victory from the hot Pacers. They were coming off of a string of dispiriting losses, they were down to only ten players due to injury and illness, and they had been called possibly the worst team ever by a local paper (not this paper, I assure you). And to top it off, Indiana opened the game with a scorching 20-4 run, mixing easy transition layups with threes by Dunleavy and Troy Murphy. But Telfair turned in probably his best game as a pro in leading the Wolves to a frankly unbelievable come-from-behind 131-118 victory. The Pacers’ strategy was to challenge Telfair outside with traps and shows but he continually beat this pressure with a dazzling array of moves. One media source called his ballhandling “playground”, but that description does an injustice to the poise and efficiency with which he probed the defense. All evening, Telfair challenged the Pacers with his aggressive penetration; when Indiana chose to stay at home on Minnesota’s shooters, he finished confidently at the rim and when they adjusted and began to challenge his drives, Bassie calmly dished the ball to now-wide open teammates like the hot-shooting Antoine Walker. When it was over, Telfair had 27 points (on 11-18), 11 assists and only one turnover. (His only shortcoming is his disturbing habit of tucking his jersey into his compression shorts, even as his uniform shorts hang at mid-crack.) Oh, and he played all 48 minutes. That, friends, is a nasty game.

Afterwards, Wolves coach Randy Wittman emerged from the locker room sporting a warm, fatherly glow. “I couldn’t be more proud of these kids,” proud, he said with moist eyes, of their enormous “heart and determination.” In his next breath, Wittman addressed the media’s recent musings: “These kids, they have feelings too.” I have to say, the way he praised and defended his players was pretty moving. And Wittman was right to be proud. After that disastrous first quarter, the Wolves showed that spectacular, seemingly contradictory convergence of guts and effortless grace that can bloom without warning in the NBA, even in the most seemingly mundane game. On one telling defensive possession, the Pacers’ star Jermaine O’Neal caught a lob pass in the low post and spun to the baseline past the fronting Antoine Walker. The Wolves Al Jefferson was late to help but leapt to contest O’Neal’s shot anyway. O’Neal, sensing that Jefferson had committed himself, pump faked and attempted a scoop shot at the front of the rim. Jefferson then somehow, in midair, managed to extend his very long arm behind him and block O’Neal’s shot. (Jefferson had a tremendous game, by the way. After receiving stitches on a bloody lip, he returned to dominate the third quarter and finish with 29 points and 13 rebounds in 33 minutes. The Pacers had done a good job preventing him from getting good position in the low post and he responded by facing up and attacking the basket with abandon. His combination of spins, hooks and long-armed dunks was pretty inspiring).

On another play, O’Neal (who the Wolves held to eight points, largely because of swarming defensive plays like these) tried to dunk a putback at the front of the rim when the Wolves’ Craig Smith rose behind him and—I have no idea how he managed to get this high in the air—angrily swatted the ball straight down with his forearm. Immediately upon landing, Smith broke into a full sprint and finished with a layup at the other end. The crowd, which nearly came to boos in the first quarter, couldn’t believe how much fun they were having. I beg you not to listen to the snarks who take one look at the Wolves record and write them off as a joke. This is much easier to appreciate in person, but in the incredibly competitive NBA winning and losing depends on almost imperceptibly nuanced differences in execution and decision-making. It’s true that the painfully young, injury riddled Wolves have yet to pick up most of those nuances, but they are capable of playing dynamic, highly, highly skilled basketball for very long stretches of the game.

The Boy With The Thorn In His Side

Sober self-awareness is not thought to be one of the hallmarks of youth and the Wolves’ 21-year-old Gerald Green regularly makes the reasons why rather obvious. As you probably know, Green was last year’s slam-dunk champion—thanks to moves his younger brother devised while playing as Green at NBA Live—and last night showed the outrageous explosiveness that made that victory possible. To borrow a phrase from Truehoop’s Henry Abbott that he used in describing a different player, if there’s a problem that can be solved by jumping, Gerald Green can solve it. Green’s problem is that he seems completely incapable of not physically expressing every emotion that passes through his mind/body. When he is hitting shots (and by that I mean, when he hits a shot), he takes on an aspect of almost caricatured swagger, as if the phrase nothing will every go wrong again, anywhere, ever is continuously running through his mind. But should he make even the smallest mistake, Green’s body slumps and his face screws into a mask of frustration. Cheering him up seems to be a major responsibility of his teammates and coaches. In other words, it is very much an open question whether he has the mental makeup to be a professional athlete for whom failure is an everyday occurrence. Indeed, last night—despite hitting some big threes and skying for several rebounds—when Green committed a single foul he looked despondent. When I asked him about how he felt, he dismissively assured me that his less than three years of limited playing time and zero playoff games had duly seasoned him. “I seen everything,” said the (again) 21-year-old veteran. Everything. There’s something really endearing about that, right?

Posted by Benjamin Polk at December 22, 2007 2:41 PM | Comments (4)

 

NBA Finals Preview: Dallas Uber Alles

Filed under: NBA

Shaquille O'Neal is one of my favorite players of all time. The guy is incredibly media-savvy--his interviews have made me laugh out loud more than any other athlete. On the court, he is Wilt Chamberlain plus championship hardware, the most unstoppable force in the game for a decade. Plus, I've got a soft spot for him because he made me look smart for loudly defending him back in the day when everyone wanted to rip him for never winning the big one and concentrating more on movies and rap than he did on hoops (absurd of course, but so it goes).

But as much as the heart goes to Shaq, my head says this is the year the Dallas Mavericks grab the trophy, in anywhere from five to seven games--we'll split the difference at six, but it really could go up or down from there, depending on a bevy of factors. Here's my take on the climax to the most consistently exciting NBA playoffs since they expanded the format.

Dallas has been playing better competition. The West is better than the East once again, and the Mavs' sweep of Memphis, whisker-thin pulse-pounding classic versus the Spurs, and slow wearing out of the Suns has been more impressive than Miami's stop-and-go besting of the Bulls, steamrolling of the Nets, and mercy killing of moribund Pistons.

The Wheeze factor favors the Mavs. Yes, the Heat significantly upgraded their perimeter D versus Flip's wilting Bad Boys, but the shots were still there to be drained if the vintage Billups and 'Sheed had bothered to show up. And Dallas has got a rich gumbo of pick-and-roll components. The 7-foot Dirk, who used to just be one of the two or three best pure shooters in the league, now drives with grit, dishes with aplomb, and draws fouls with up-fake j's and hell-bent for leather penetration. The JET, Jason Terry, cashes out the open jumpers he gets going to his right while rubbing his foe off the screen. There are the pumpkin-headed, sweet-shooting Stackhouse and the slashin' assassin, Josh Howard. There's Devon Harris, emerging from his Badger hole this postseason. Even defensive specialist Adrian Griffin, and his pull-up, funky, left-handed mid-range, conjuring memories of the Knicks' Dick Barnett from waay back in the day.

The Heat are in the Finals because Riles got them to care about defense. Shaq is showing harder on the p&r than I've ever seen him work. The most astonishing thing about D-Wade versus the Pistons wasn't the acrobatic layups but the perpetual motion static-cling he put on Rip Hamilton in the pivotal Heat victories. And who was that version of Antoine Walker, who actually played stare-at-his-jersey-and-move-your-feet defense with transformative diligence versus both the Nets and Pistons?

Despite all of these things AND the occasional vision of Gary Payton slipping back on The Glove, I still don't see how Miami can defend Dallas effectively in the half court, let alone transition. Because when Shaq shows, these smart Mavs are heading for the rim, and then, inevitably, the foul line. Because the static that Wade gums into the offensive rhythm of his opponents will either wane with Dallas's depth--if Stack's jumpers aren't falling, Terry's will be--or sap him of some of his own point production (and that's assuming he recovers from this tenacious flu). Because in his past-prime-time mode, Payton's A-Game on D soon suffocates his own wind as much as the one being Gloved. And 'Toine will discover that neither Nowitzki nor Howard are as fortuitious a matchup for him as a gimpy 'Sheed or an overextended Tayshaun Prince.

The theory of relativity favors Dallas slightly. There are a trio of stone-cold studs in this series, and all of them will be fairly unstoppable. Yes, the Mavs have some big boys in Dampier and Diop to toss at Shaq, but does anyone think that's sufficient? Yes, Howard one of the league's most pliably efficient defenders--Steve Nash is still having nightmares over the second half of Game Six--but Wade has dismantled the best-laid plans of every postseason opponent with his gumby-bodied treks from the arc to the hoop--even Howard will be lunched with a frequency that will surprise him. And yes, James Posey deserves his strong defensive rep and Udonis Haslem is sweat-equity personified, but Nowitzki is physically bigger than both of them, and opening trap doors into new facets of his overall game that will take more than inordinate will power to deter.

Put simply, Shaq, Wade, and Dirk will all compile plenty of highlight-reel moments. But how well will each one perform relative to the previous series in this postseason? I think Shaq will find himself in foul trouble at least two or three times this series. I expect him to punish Dampier and Diop whenever possible, but if he's saddled with fouls and he's not hitting his free throws when they inevitably send him to the line, that dominance won't be as often as the Heat needs to counter Dallas's depth. As for Wade, not only will he discover that Howard is stronger than Prince, but that the deep-roster Mavs will rotate on D with more consistent energy than the depleted Pistons could muster. Against San Antonio, Dallas pretty much allowed Duncan to go off by eschewing the automatic double-team; they may likewise pick their poison that way with the Heat, and variously let Shaq rumble and Wade scamper while sealing off other options.

At the other end, Riley's best option on Nowitzki is probably Haslem, but wily Avery Johnson is liable to run enough high pick-and-rolls to pull Haslem away from the basket and let Dallas have a field day with putbacks on the glass and drawing penetration fouls. New rules or no new rules, grabbing rebounds still matters a huge amount in the playoffs, and the Mavs have outrebounded their foe in every game of their three series thus far (unless Phoenix broke the string in Game Five). If I were Riley, I might see if Walker still has a little defensive magic in him, and go smaller, with Posey on Howard. In any case, Miami can't win without Shaq and/or Wade having a big night, but the Mavs can triumph without Nowitzki going off. Dallas just has a better supporting cast, and that eventually is going to make the differnce.

X factors, from Z to A.
When I think of the ways in which Miami wins this series, Alonzo Mourning is most prominent in the scenario. Zo is better than Dampier and Diop at both ends of the court, and if he's in his shot-blocking, intimidating groove, and his shot is falling to boot, Shaq's foul troubles and wretched free throw shooting will be mitigated, and the Diesel will be fresher too. I don't like to romanticize Zo's quest for a ring--he laid down when toiling for any noncontender these past few years. But now that he's this close, and with all he's overcome thus far, I have a feeling he might come up huge. Other potential X factors for Miami--meaning pleasant surprises--are Walker's defense, Jason Williams' court savvy and shot selection and accuracy from behind the three-point line, and, as always with Shaq, the referees interpreting contact in his favor.

For Dallas, there are many more possibilities, but Adrian Griffin is my sleeper pick for heroic duty. Already worn from Howard's dogging, Wade will pay a physical price for beating Griffin off the dribble, and at the other end, the Heat maybe should think twice about daring Griffin to beat them with his jumper as they double Dirk and the other shooters. If Griffin's confidence in his shot carries over from the Phoenix series, the Heat are in trouble. Finally, Dallas has gotten this far without Jason Terry finding his shooting zone for any extended period of time. Dude is due, and being guarded by Jason Williams helps pay the postage.

Posted by Britt Robson at June 7, 2006 11:44 PM | Comments (7)

 

Western Conference Finals Preview: The Suns Set in the West

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First of all, this is a matchup of the two best coaches in the postseason thus far. I happened to see Mike D'Antoni interviewed the day after the controversial last-second loss to the Lakers (Nash fouled then stripped as he tried to call a timeout) sent Phoenix down 3-1 and the guy just exuded calm confidence. Right then I knew that Phoenix had a decent chance to get to the second round. The other thing you have to admire about D'Antoni is that he plays unlike anybody in the league and goes out and gets parts to fit his system. Boris Diaw was obviously the main coup this year, but the acquisitions of Raja Bell and Tim Thomas weren't too shabby either. Granted that's the GM (now toiling in Toronto) but D'Antoni was obviously consulted and made it work. And flipping Barbosa over to the two-guard was a bold and savvy stroke that is all D'Antoni. This is a team that has won the divisional title and reached the Conference Finals two years in a row playing without a center, in constant transition. They're just a hell of a lot of fun. And the brains behind it all on the sidelines fades into the woodwork as much as he can.

As for Avery Johnson, well, I am now munching on my vote for Flip Saunders as coach of the year after AJ's insertion of Devon Harris at the point totally flummoxed the Spurs and literally changed the equation of how the entire second round series would be played.

Just like that; one bold masterstroke and San Antonio was exposed for its lack of foot speed, and forced to keep a money player like Robert Horry chained to the bench. Johnson's decision to not automatically double team Tim Duncan in the low block was another gutsy, if not as wildly successful, decision. And it is well known that Johnson's emphasis on defense has provided the Mavs with a personality transplant. (BTW, doesn't this throw a little more dirt on Don Nelson's reputation? D'Antoni did a "double Nelly" better than the original with his peddle-to-the-metal small-ball and crazy matchups, and Avery demonstrated that Nelson already had championship caliber talent if he just knew how to use it--and that's minus Michael Finley and Steve Nash.)

So, do the favored Mavs follow form and knock off Phoenix, or are the Suns just too charmed to go away just yet?

Dallas in 7.

If this was simply about talent and cohesion, I'd say Dallas in 5 or 6. Now that the Spurs are gone--and right up until Nowitzski's unbelievable three point play at the close of reg in Game 7 I would have bet good money on San Antonio repeating--the Mavs have depth, versatility, a superb young coach, an inspirational team leader, and a lovably iconoclastic owner (at least I've always appreciated the way Cuban has been the only nouveau moneybags who honestly acts out every hoop schlub's fantasy of owning a team and treating it the way any die-hard fan would).

But playing Phoenix takes both discipline and some accomodation, especially after series against a Fratello-coached Grizzlies and a Popovich-coached Spurs. You don't think Nowitzki, Terry, Howard, Harris, Daniels and the boys aren't going to succumb to the temptation to run with the Suns? Yes, if anyone from the NBA's final eight could have beaten Phoenix at its own game, it's Dallas. But the odds of the Mavs winning still plummet the fewer times the ball is dribbled. Phoenix will win at least one, and maybe two, abject shootouts, where the loser tops 105 points. And I think Phoenix will spurt enough and draw upon their eerie karma enough to steal a game that is relatively low-scoring for them. But Phoenix beating the Mavs more often than not? Uh-unh. Here are three reasons why:

1)Less rest for Steve Nash. At the beginning of this year, I predicted Phoenix wouldn't even make the playoffs because Nash would get injured (another brilliant prognostication, eh?). It didn't happen, but the rationale for it was based on the fact that Nash simply lacks the stamina and durability to perform at peak level for as long as the Dirks and Kobes and KGs and, apparently, even the foot-impaired Duncans of the world. It's already been bandied about a fair amount, and I hate to follow the pack, but the fact that there is less rest between games in the finals, and that the Mavs are quicker than the Clips, is going to take its toll on Nash.

2) The quickening superstardom of Nowitzki. The big Kraut is in a zone, and if the Spurs couldn't rattle him out of it, what with Bruce Bowen and Duncan and their black and blue style, how are the Suns going to disrupt this guy? He'll get 40 one night, dish for 8 assists another, grab 23 rebounds a third. And it will all be in the flow of the game. If the Suns elect to guard him with Shawn Marion they are going to get killed on the boards--never mind Diop and Dampier, Josh Howard will go nuts. Boris Diaw probably isn't quick enough. Tim Thomas doesn't have the bulk. I mean, Nowitzki's a legit seven feet. Oh, and if Phoenix doubles him, Nowitzki demonstrated against the Spurs that he'll dish to Terry, Harris and the rest of the crew.

3. Avery Johnson will grab the reins often enough. The Suns' only hope is what the Suns only hope always is--run like banshees for 48 minutes in hopes of transition hoops, and if the opponent gets back in time, spread the floor, then drive and kick out for treys, or dish to the perimeter and then hit the cutters down the middle. It is up to Johnson to prevent a track meet as often as possible, and to let his bigs handle the penetration on their own so the Mavs can contain the perimeter. Personally, I think Diop is better able to handle this than Dampier, who will accumulate many fouls per minute in this series, so Dallas has to hope his broken nose is not a problem. But Avery Johnson has built this team to succeed in the playoffs, and as good as Mike D'Antoni is, he and his squad simply don't have the horses to overwhelm Dallas. We all get to have a hell of a lot of fun watching them try, though.

Posted by Britt Robson at May 24, 2006 4:39 PM | Comments (8)

 

Three-Pointer: Heat-Pistons Opener

Filed under: NBA

1. No substitute for watching
Right after I posted my series pick of Pistons in 6, three respondents quickly chimed in to rebut me. The difference? They'd obviously been watching a lot more of the Pistons-Cavs series than I did. (For the record, I didn't see any of the games end-to-end, and missed two of the three Cavs wins entirely.) I did watch most of Game 7, particularly in the second half when that famed Pistons D came back into vogue, and figured they'd merely been coasting in their losses. And I'd seen enough of the Heat in the first two rounds to discern what I thought would be their weaknesses versus Detroit (and may still be).

But there is no substitute for getting a feel for a team game in and game out, and I'm afraid my sporadic playoffs watching--as good as the postseason has been, alas--is going to work against me in the Western Conference as well. (Ironically, I've seen just about every playoff game Phoenix has played, so have the best take on them. But mid-evening commitments prevented me from seeing a lot of the first halves of that classic Mavs-Spurs series.) So be forewarned: I'll be parading my ignorance once more in the Mavs-Suns preview I'll post later today. Meanwhile, please continue to enlighten me out there folks, and, my crazy schedule permitting, I'll try and keep up.

2. Veteran bench steps up.
Much was made about how Miami actually outscored Detroit after Wade went out with foul trouble in the third quarter. But the key for me was late in the second period, when both Wade and Shaq had to sit with foul trouble, on the tail end of a Pistons' run no less. If there was ever a time for Detroit to grab the game by the throat it was then. But Gary Payton turned back the clock, going off for three quick buckets and playing engaged D, almost like the old days. And Antoine Walker, always a great second banana so long as it is not beside a superstar like Shaq or Wade, played off Payton perfectly and got some buckets and strong rotations of his own. Throw in 'Zo, who you knew would give you quality, and Miami actually quelled the Pistons momentum and bumped the lead to six heading into halftime. Not to slight Jason Williams' third quarter heroics and the way Miami battled back after the Pistons had seized the lead, but that second quarter was the real confidence-builder for a couple of vets whose contribution is going to be vital in this series.

3. Billups and Billups and Hamilton, oh my
We can talk all we want about Miami's depth coming through (in fact I just did, didn't I?) but if Detroit hits a few of those eminently makeable shots from outside with any kind of consistency, the Pistons exploit the Heat's foul troubles to win this one going away. Chauncey Billups in particular had what for him was a horrendous shooting performance, and Rip Hamilton, who is out on the floor for one reason and that's to fill it up, was likewise tepid. It wasn't Miami's defense either--those are looks Detroit has been getting and converting all season (but maybe not in those Cavs' games I missed?). Lindsay Hunter and Antonio McDyess did their job off the bench. 'Sheed could have done more than 7 points, but he's a little banged up and is jousting with the leviathans down low. You never expect much from Ben Wallace on offense. And Tayshaun Prince should be using as much energy as possible for defending Wade. That leaves the backcourt, and if they don't regain their shooting touch in Game Two, this could be a pretty short series.

Posted by Britt Robson at May 24, 2006 10:15 AM | Comments (3)

 

Eastern Conference Finals Preview

Filed under: NBA

The team with all the depth has had all the rest, while the squad who only goes seven deep was pushed to seven games in the previous round. With Shaq, Mourning, Haslem and even veteran banger Michael Doleac, the Miami Heat have the beef to bully the Detroit Pistons underneath. And with a surfeit of graybeard vets who probably just have this last legitimate shot at a ring--Shaq, Mourning, Payton, 'Toine Walker, and coach Pat Riley--there is motivation aplenty for Miami to will themselves to the NBA Finals.

Detroit in 6.

The top three reasons I like the Pistons.
1) Miami doesn't have a good answer for Chauncey Billups.

Cleveland's Eric Snow is being given a ton of credit for forcing Billups into a subpar series in the second round, but I think Billups just hit a bad patch. Yes, Snow had something to do with it, but let's face it, the Pistons, and particularly Billups, were due for a little ennui at some point on this long trek back to the third straight championship finals. And once they had schooled the Cavs twice early, it happened in the middle three games of the series. Now, Billups will be focused, and have the underwhelming Jason Williams defending him when the waaaay-past-his-prime Gary Payton isn't. That means Billups will get his own shot, from outside the arc or off the dribble, pretty much whenever he wants it, with the tug of a rotten Cavs series spurring him on. I think he averages 20 points per game (if, as expected, the scores are in the 90s; he'll get more if Detroit goes into triple digits) this time.

2)The Pistons have at least partial answers for Dwyane Wade. I happen to think Wade is the second-best player off the dribble in the league this year--better than Kobe and AI, which is really saying something. But the Pistons just finished playing the one guy who is Wade's superior, in LeBron. Wade is slightly quicker but also appreciably smaller, meaning the Pistons can throw Rip Hamilton on him occasionally and use Tayshaun Prince, their invaluable stopper, only at the most crucial times, as when Shaq is on the bench and the Heat are relying on Wade to carry the entire load. I think Wade will have a marvelous series--perhaps only Iverson is more fun to watch this year, including LeBron, whose enormous heart is more closely camoflagued by his incredible physique--but eventually Prince will take enough out of him to prevent Wade from willing his team to four wins. Plus, don't underestimate the fact that Wade will have to chase Hamilton, the perpetual motion machine, through dozens of Flip's famous picks; or guard Billups, who is the most physical quality point guard any defender faces.

3) Experience. This is usually an overrated quality. But when you've won 11 of your past 12 elimination games, pretty much with the same guys, over the past four years or so, it really matters. Like the Spurs, you will have to drive a stake into the heart of the Pistons, they won't fold. And there is no opponent the caliber of Dallas to do that in this series.

For Devil's Advocacy sake, I think the Heat wins if the whistles blow in their direction. Between Wade's penetration and O'Neal's post-up game, they have two of the league's most productive generator of fouls on opponents. Ben Wallace can't afford to foul Wade on layups very often, if ever--he's got to save every foul for Shaq. And if Ben Wallace does get in foul trouble early, the Pistons are in deep shit, what with the beef Miami can bring. Antonio McDyess has already proven in the playoffs why he, and not Mike Miller, was the 6th Man of the Year, but with just him and 'Sheed against the likes of Shaq, Mourning, and Haslem, it becomes a rough, rough go. Don't underestimate Mourning's contribution--in fact I think whoever plays best between McDyess and Mourning will be a crucial swing factor in this series--because Zo was great versus Miami and have a thrilling desire to win. There is also the chance that Walker and Posey and Williams will get hot from behind the arc, freeing up the double-teams on Shaq, allowing the big aristotle to go off and regain the rhythm that Miami needs to pull the upset. This all could happen, but I think Billups, McDyess and company (including Lindsay Hunter who is the logical guy to implement Flip's standard practice of putting full-court pressure on J-Will, and has had great success against Wchoc's team as a result) have had their scare and will beat back a team that unfortunately needs to rely on Wade a tad too much to triumph. Unless the Pistons get in foul trouble of course.

What does everybody else think? I feel badly that we've let this blog lag during an unbelievable two rounds of NBA beauty. Let's see if we can all put our oars in a little more for the final two rounds.

Posted by Britt Robson at May 23, 2006 3:42 PM | Comments (8)

 

Open thread: NBA Second Round

Filed under: NBA

Okay folks, sorry I don't have time for analysis right now, but I do want to open this thread for anyone who wants to talk about the second-round of the series. Hopefully I'll elaborate later, but here are my picks:

Miami over New Jersey in 6.
Detroit over Cleveland in 5.
Clippers over Phoenix in 6.
San Antonio over Dallas in 6. (No way to prove it, but this was my pick even before the Spurs triumphed this afternoon. For that matter, barring injuries or as of now unforeseen circumstances, I think San Antonio will again beat the Pistons and repeat as champs. But let's not get too far ahead of ourselves.)

Other permissible comment topics: The Phoenix comeback (otherwise known as the Kwame-Smush el foldo); the little white guy winning his second straight undeserved MVP; rethinking coach of the year and MVP by including playoffs in the context; and the extracurricular activities on the court (from Reggie Evans's nut grab to Raja Bell's clothesline to Udonis Haslem's mouthpiece toss).

Posted by Britt Robson at May 7, 2006 6:07 PM | Comments (15)

 

NBA Playoff Thread: Lakers Win Fabulous Overtime Tilt

Filed under: NBA

The best game of the playoffs thus far occurred in what has been the most consistently competitive first-round series, with the Lakers pulling out a thrilling overtime win over Phoenix to go up 3-1. Down by 8 in the 4th quarter, the Lakers pulled it out on a Smush Parker steal from Steve Nash after the inbounds, followed by a gorgeous teardrop layup from Kobe Bryant going baseline (no bank). In overtime, the Suns were up 3 with very little time remaining. Kobe banked in a layup and then, after the Suns brought it up, Nash was trapped and probably fouled while appearing to try and call a timeout. But Bennett Salvatore (the Dukakis lookalike) whistled a jump ball! On the inevitable Lakers tap (it was Nash and Luke Walton on the jump), Kobe had the rock on a do-or-die jumper and you know what happens when that happens--Swish! Lakers win.

Despite all the points I just mentioned Kobe scoring, the story once again was his ability to involve his teammates--he led the Lakers in assists for the fourth straight game. Lamar Odom has clearly been awakened, turning in yet another strong game. But, as crucial as it is to the Lakers success, inspiring Odom isn't all Kobe has done. When Devean George, a playoff nonentity this year until this afternoon's game, hit a couple of treys from the corner, Kobe turned down his own shots and began feeding George. He likewise fed Walton, Odom, Parker and pretty much anyone left open as Raja Bell and the Suns clamped down. As someone who has disliked Kobe's game almost from the jump, I'm pleasantly surprised that I am actually rooting for him and his team during this series, because they are obviously playing a total team game and creating enormous synergy relative to their talent level.

This is more proof that Phil Jackson is indeed a masterful tactician, but it couldn't have happened without Kobe almost completely changing his me-first mindset and, in the face of occasionally huge pressure and temptation, sticking with the gameplan. Kudos to Kobe and to Jackson.

I'd love to hear what others think about the game. Nash did get fouled at the end, as did James Jones going for the hoop in Phoenix's final play of regulation. Has any reigning MVP been so disrespected by the refs? I'm not necessarily arguing with it--I believe in "letting them play," especially when the game is in the balance--but I am surprised. And barring a huge comeback (possible for Phoenix, not for Denver), there will be a Clips-Lakers series, alongside a likely Spurs-Mavs series, which seems to me like a pair of intriguing and fantastic matchups.

Posted by Britt Robson at April 30, 2006 5:42 PM | Comments (9)

 

NBA Playoff Three-Pointer and Open Thread

Filed under: NBA

Note: For those of you who clamored for a playoff blog, here you go. Don't know how often I can chime in, but I'll keep opening an occasional new thread if there is sufficient interest.

1. Devil in the details
The great thing about predictions is that they can be spun by whatever level lens you want to focus on. For example, on a macro level, I picked the Spurs over the Kings and the Nets over the Pacers, leading some to think I'm right on the former and wrong on the latter. But anybody who bothered to parse the details would see that I totally blew it when I claimed that San Antonio would take Sac lightly and wouldn't be geared up in full playoff mode; and that my guessing was more accurate when I called the Nets vastly overrated.

My error was in underestimating Indiana, particularly Jermaine O'Neal, who rose up for a strong 4th quarter. Also, despite being a jerk, Stephen Jackson had a strong game at both ends of the floor. I still think the Nets have enough to get by the Pacers, and I obviously no longer think the Spurs are going to need 6 or 7 to move past Sac, especially with Artest sitting tonight.

2. Nugs in trouble
The first Denver-Clippers game didn't disappoint, but Game Two was pretty much a game of keep away for the entire contest, with LA going up 32-13 after one and then cruising home while the Nugs frantically chased the lead to just above double-digits. As someone who has seen all of both games (the only series I've followed that way thus far), I think the key has been Brand and Kamen outplaying Camby and (in lieu of naming a power forward) the pea-sized brain of George Karl.

Here's another macro-micro lens perspective on predictions. I called the series for the Nugs, which doesn't look terribly bright at the moment. But I also said the teams were evenly matched, cited all the ways the Clips could win and said that the Nugs needed K-Mart and Najera to deter Brand enough so that Camby could handle Kamen. So, what does Karl do? Starts Francisco Elson on Brand both games, with disastrous results. Brand has scored 20 points in the two first quarters, pushing the Clips to early leads both times. LA's wins about 70 pecent of the time when leading after one, so this pattern has been crucial.

According to the plus/minus totes on popcornmachine.net, Elson is a combined minus-18 in 24 minutes of action. K-mart, who posted a plus-7 in 27 minutes in Game One, was minus-11 in just seven minutes last night. But here's the real error--Karl didn't even get Najera off the bench in Game One, and only inserted him in Game Two after the contest was well out of hand. But anyone who has watched the feisty Mexican play, especially in the post-season for Dallas back in the day, knows that he is the one player who combines bulk and heart enough to give Brand problems in the low block. And he posted a huge plus-15 in 16 minutes of action last night. Another guy who plays with a lot of heart, Reggie Evans, is a combined plus-5 in 32 minutes of play.

So, coach Karl, just because Elson is a seven-footer doesn't mean he has the smarts, the below-the-waist strength, or the gumption to go mano-a-mano with a beast like Brand. I know you want to bump up the tempo and that Najera is a plodder (even before he fractured his leg not that long ago. But if you don't contain Brand, Camby is going to split his time between Brand and Kamen and you are going to get your ass handed to you once again. Play a rotation of Najera, Evans and K-Mart and keep Elson as a brief spare for Camby--match him up with Kamen, who is not quite as strong.

Other hit-and-run observations about this series:

The much anticipated matchup between Corey Maggette and Carmelo Anthony (well, at least I was excited about it) has been a bust, with Anthony again finishing a distant third to Lebron and Wade in their inevitable comparisons from that draft class and Maggette not being able to defend anybody. 'Melo is a great shooter but went goose-eggs from the field during crunch time in Game One, then committed a series of quick fouls that doomed the Nugs in Game Two. Maggette has the worst plus/minus of anybody in the series despite playing for the team that has won twice--defensive specialist Quentin Ross and mad-gunner turned unlikely team guy Cuttino Mobley have been far better options.

Also Sam Cassell provided excellent veteran leadership in Game One, but is beginning to take that role a little too seriously, regularly calling out teammates for any errors he perceives. Sammy is a marvelous asset in this series, but the more he yaks to his mates the worse he is going to look when Earl Boykins finds his shot and teams with Andre Miller (who had a great Game One) to dismantle Cassell's matador D as the series shifts to Denver.

By the end of this series, Kamen is going to be one of those guys who has been called underrated so often that he will actually not be underrated any more. And yes, he has been a stud--his outplaying Camby in Game One has been the single most important factor in this series thus far.

3.Apologies to Kobe
Anyone who knows me and even casually reads my stuff, knows I am no fan of Kobe Bryant. So, to keep with the macro-micro prediction theme, while I was correct in the macro for thinking the Suns will eclipse the Lakers, I said LA would only make it competitive if Odom got off and Kobe enabled it, allowing the Lakers to play as a team... and that that wasn't going to happen.

Well, it did happen. Game One of the Lakers-Suns has been the most entertaining playoffs hoops thus far, in large part because wily Phil Jackson totally went against type and had the Lakers sharing the ball (all their starters were double figures). Odom crashed the boards and was vitally involved and LA very nearly pulled off the upset. Kobe? All the newspaper stories wanted to dwell on his "poor" shooting performance. And while it was true that he didn't have a great night putting the ball in the hole (save for a gorgeous, deadly trey from about five feet behind the arc in the last two minutes), he played a marvelous team game and get everyone gelling. If he can continue to play that way *and* find his shot, the Lakers have a much better chance than I anticipated. What I don't know is how big of an "if" that is. In other words, is Kobe most accurate only when he is most selfish? Some guys are just that way, and if it is true of Kobe, than the Lakers may be forced to revert to their star going off for 45-60 points and having their team go down in flames and everyone proclaims the greatness of Kobe.

I'm proclaiming the unselfishness of Kobe in Game One, and offering my apology. It was a pleasure to watch.

Posted by Britt Robson at April 25, 2006 1:17 PM | Comments (14)

 

Regular Season Awards and Playoff Picks

Filed under: NBA

Let's get the easiest calls out of the way first. The Pistons will require no more than five games to dispatch the Bucks and Chris Paul is the NBA Rookie of the Year.

The second-easiest pair? Dallas over Memphis in no more than six games (and I'd wager five) and Flip Saunders as Coach of the Year, an obvious choice despite the reputation-enhancing jobs turned in by Avery Johnson in Dallas, Mike D'Antoni in Phoenix, and Scott Skiles in Chicago.

Medium-hard picks?

Well, everyone claims the combo of Phil Jackson and Kobe Bryant is going to give the Phoenix Suns fits, but I think the only way that happens is if Lamar Odom gets really engaged--the way he used to in Miami--playing the nonstop uptempo style that will define this series, and pairs with Kobe to simply overwhelm the Suns. And I don't think either Kobe or Odom care enough about the other to let that occur. Phoenix in 5, with Kobe averaging nearly 40 points and six assists per game.

Aside from the Lakers, the New Jersey Nets are the most overrated team in the playoffs, and if they'd had the misfortune to play the Bulls, who match up with them across the board, they'd be gone in the first round. Fortunately for Jay-Z and the boyz, their opponent is Indiana, a dysfunctional crew now featuring one of the great chokers of the postseason in Peja and a number-two guy masquerading as a number-one guy in Jermaine O'Neal. The series will go five, maybe six, but this win is as far as NJ is going to go.

For Sixth Man of the Year, I had grudgingly decided to give up to Mike Miller of Memphis, who is unselfish and underrated--a great shooter who doesn't gun, tries to defend well and comes off the bench happily--when I read the Strib's Steve Aschburner name Antonio McDyess for the honor. And he's right. Detroit has a very thin bench, but without McDyess to spell the Wallaces, they wouldn't be nearly as primed to close in a potential second crown in three years. In fact I'd wager they wouldn't have home court advantage in the Finals. Like Miller, McDyess is a humble pro who sublimates himself for his team and enables the Pistons to rest key people without a bump in either their style or their quality of play (in short spurts anyway).

The last medium-hard pick is Miami over Chicago, again in five or six, maybe seven. I love the way the Bulls have pulled together this season, and they have the players to frustrate the Heat's top two. Specifically, put Luol Dong on Dwyane Wade and Tyson Chandler as the main man in the bevy of bigs versus Shaq and Miami will be struggling to move on. And if Antoine Walker takes it upon himself to be the main man by default, the Bulls might even spring the upset. Eventually, I think Wade and Shaq can overcome, but all those off-season moves and the return of Pat Riley still don't make the Heat nearly as formidable as they appeared to be last season.

Okay, here are the tough calls, from easiest to hardest.

San Antonio over Sacramento in 6 or 7.
This will be a far cry from your usual #1-versus-#8 cakewalk. Having gone to the finals twice in a row, and having paced themselves through much of the regular season, the Spurs, despite themselves, are going to take the Kings lightly. San Antonio will win because Tony Parker is simply too fast for Mike Bibby and because Tim Duncan and Nazr Muhammad can ultimately reign in the low block. But since acquiring Ron Artest in a heist (so long as he stays sane) for Peja, the Kings have a fine, playoff-simpatico squad, as both Artest and Brad Miller love to bang and the Kings have folks like Bonzie Wells and Shareff Abdur-Raheim to keep Bruce Bowen from guarding Bibby.

Bowen is a monster on D, but I believe Marcus Camby is NBA Defender of the Year in a close call over Ben Wallace, Bowen, and Ron Artest, in that order.

I understand that Cleveland and Washington are currently playing even as I write this, and I purposefully haven't checked the score before calling it for the Cavs in a wild 6 or 7 game series. This is the true suck-it-up time for LeBron, but also for Gilbert Arenas--whichever star shines brightest among these two, that's whose team will triumph. Secondly, Washington simply doesn't play enough defense to win in the playoffs, even against a deeply flawed team like Cleveland.

That leaves us with the the Clippers versus the Nuggets and the MVP Award. These are the toughest calls for me because of the frequency with which I've changed my mind. I've literally thought up good scenarios for both the Clips and the Nugs winning, and justified no fewer than three MVP picks. Let's get the individual award out of the way first.

It won't be Kobe Bryant, who doesn't even make my top five. Think the Lakers would have made the playoffs without Phil Jackson? If not--and I don't--how can you justify picking Kobe?

4th Place--Chauncey Billups. Yeah, the Pistons are the "ultimate team" and all that stuff, but where would they be with Carlos Arroyo running with the other starting four? I know that Carmelo Anthony (my 5th place pick) has been a god with the game on the line, but absolutely nobody is more important to their team in the last four minutes of a game than Billups is to the Pistons. He controls the dribble, he isn't afraid to take the shot, he's deadly enough at the line that opponents commit suicide if they foul him, and he can defend out on the perimeter (that last attitribute is Larry Brown's greatest contribution to the Piston franchise).

3rd Place--Dirk Nowitzki. No more jokes about how he can't defend anybody. I don't buy the argument that Dirk doesn't play with quality teammates--Josh Howard is among the top 20 players in the game right now, and is getting better--but he is unquestionably the leader of this team, and his commitment to improvement on D made Johnson's job much easier and elevated the Mavs to a bona fide championship contender. Oh, and in case you forgot, Nowitzki ranks right up there with Ray Allen as the deadliest outside shooter in the game today.

2nd Place--Steve Nash. Last year I argued vociferously against Nash winning the MVP over Shaq, and I still think it was a stupid call. Sure, Nash was marvelous, but he didn't defend well and he had Amare and Marion and Q Rich and Joe Johnson. I am very comfortable with saying Shaq got robbed last season. But this year, Nash was better, much better, shouldering the burden of playing 3/4 of last year's starting teammates and transforming the likes of Raja Bell and Boris Diaw into very solid NBA players, when Diaw was regarded as a would-be journeyman and Bell was an already-there journeyman. So why isn't Nash the MVP? Because, even if Phoenix didn't disguise it some with its up-and-down style, Steve Nash can't defend.

MVP--LeBron James. What he did when the calendar flipped to spring and the Cavs needed a playoff push was take it to an extra gear, and the league hasn't seen the likes of it since Jordan was in his prime. I suspect that this will be the first of about 7 or 8 MVPs for James before he's through. Will he rank with Jordan as the greatest ever? It depends on how many rings he bags. Without them, if he has the kind of career I imagine for him, he'll have to be content to sit alongside Oscar Robertson a whisker behind Jordan among the premier swingmen in the history of the game. Shit, I should be watching him try and destroy the Wizards right now, so let's finish up.

Nuggets over Clippers in 6 or 7.
On paper, and in my fervid imagination, this is the best first-round playoff matchup since the league expanded the post-season format to 16 teams. Both the Nugs and Clips are deep, resourceful, well-balanced teams led by veteran coaches who have had their ups and downs in the postseason but who know how and when to motivate their personnel. The trade bringing the Nuggets Ruben Patterson and Reggie Evans was a masterstroke that enables Denver to bang and scoot, but I still think Kenyon Martin needs to step up and Eduardo Najera needs to be getting good minutes in the rotation if Denver is going to neutralize Elton Brand, which is a key to their prospects. If Brand gets his 24 and 12 in the normal flow of things, Denver is in trouble, because that means Camby is going to have to help out and that means Chris Kamen will have a chance to get off and get his confidence up. If Camby is allowed to devote a lot of his energy to Kamen, it is going to be a long series for the "Cave Man," whose glorious footwork and admirable work ethic simple can't compensate for Camby's superb defensive prowess (Eddie Griffin can only dream of becoming Camby on D).
Another fascinating matchup could be Sam Cassell and Earl Boykins. Cassell is one of the best in the league at posting up, and Boykins has made a career out of using his extraordinary strength and darting quickness on poke-check steals to discourage opponents backing him down. Cassell is incredibly crafty and loves to take the big shot, but at the other end of the court he has no hope of staying with Boykins. And Andre Miller and Shaun Livington aren't too shabby as the two points I haven't even mentioned, eh?
The return of Corey Maggette--who posted 18 and 11 in the season finale--comes just in time for the Clips, who need someone at the three to make Melo work. No swingman in the game is more adept at getting to the line than Maggette--when healthy, anyway--and a Maggette-Cuttino Mobley tag team on 'Melo is another delicious prospect in a series loaded with enticing matchups. The Clips could easily win this thing for a number of reasons--Brand has been a beast in the low block all season, Cassell craves crunchtime, the Clips have a bunch of threats behind the arc--Mobley, Cassell, Maggette and especially Vlad Radmanovic--and Kamen is sneaky good and indomitible if not checked. I just think the Nugs' superior depth and 'Melo's desire to be considered in the LeBron-Wade conversation will be just enough, despite the lack of home court advantage, for Denver to pull it out.

Posted by Britt Robson at April 22, 2006 2:31 PM | Comments (2)

 

March Madness: High School Edition

Filed under: Prep , Prep , Prep , Prep , Prep , Prep , Prep

Last week, Kevin Garnett "scolded" (Star Tribune) some of his teammates for laughing after another loss.

It was difficult to not think about Garnett and the moribund style of basketball the NBA plays while watching two terrific high school basketball games Wednesday night. The gym in Maple Grove was packed with parents and students, all of whom had a stake in the outcome: win or go home. Gophers coach Dan Monson sat on the bleachers in the corner, eating popcorn and salivating over the raw and tough city kids before him (salivating, that is, if he's got an iota of coaching acumen left in him).

Greg Boone was there, too. Boone played for Minneapolis Central in the glory days of Minneapolis basketball, and is now an avid youth-sports organizer. He once told me that people often tell him that the '75-'76 Central team featuring Boone, William Henry, Greg Maddox, Duane Nelson, and Andre Griffin was the greatest high school basketball team they've ever seen. They once beat Edison, 100-25.

Central was undefeated in 1976. I was there the night when sharp-shooting roly-poly point guard Johnny Hunter and the North Polars beat them in the regionals in front of 7,000 at the old Met Center. The next day's banner headline in the sports page of the Minneapolis Tribune screamed: North Shocks Central.

That's how it was. Two classes: A and AA, winners and losers, and not everybody got a trophy or a certificate. And it now occurs to me that Griffin introduced me to Minnesota's version of racism. His senior year, Griffin and Marshall-U's Rodney Hargest engaged in a ferocious scoring duel, and Minneapolis basketball lovers followed it with all the zeal that college hoopsheads have followed this season's duel between Duke's J.J. Reddick and Gonzaga's Adam Morrison.

Hargest dropped 52 one night; the next day in a matinee at Washburn, I watched Griffin drop 53 on dead-eye shooter Tim Wahl and a very good Southwest squad.

Griffin was the best high school basketball player in the state, along with two other black players, Hargest and De La Salle's Mark James, and Wahl. But when it came to the Mr. Basketball awards at the end of the year, the powers that be gave it to some white out-state sled named Peterson. After the banquet, I watched Griffin walk through the parking lot with his runner-up trophy, unfastening his tie and looking beyond dejected.

Last night, my old baseball coach Pat Widell called me up to go to the game. I've written about my love for high school ball before, and I'm always amazed at how refreshing it is. I saw old friends and met their kids. "Is it as intense as you remember it?," said the wife of the brother of my first girlfriend, laughing at me and Pat as we rode a ref for not calling a foul after one of our lads got mugged by three players late in the game. We weren't even the loudest fans in the gym, and amazingly, nobody got thrown out for heckling or rooting.

Game report: The Minneapolis De La Salle Islanders celebrated what would have been the 45th birthday of Kirby Puckett and the birth of my niece, Sara Ann "Puck" Woll, with a thrilling double-overtime victory over their arch rivals, the Benilde-St. Margaret's Red Knights. Kids hit the floor for balls, made dramatic shots, and played hellacious defense. When a river rat named Joe Scott hit an eight-foot jumper to win it at the buzzer, one of the Benilde kids crumpled to the floor and started crying. The De kids went wild, and in the post-game hand-shaking line, consoled the devastated Red Knights.

Somewhere across town, a bunch of millionaire professional basketball players were laughing after yet another loss, and a broken-down millionaire quarterback demanded, and got, traded. Somewhere else, the Minneapolis De La Salle Islanders girls' team was getting ready to play in their first state tournament.

Admission: $6

Hot dog: $2

Pop, candy, popcorn: $1

We stuck around and watched the first half of Minneapolis Patrick Henry against Orono. Henry is the class of the state, and the Orono kids were the most frightened white people I've seen in ages, but they were big and well-coached and they gave it their all. Henry won by 25, and plays De Friday night in the regional final.

I'm coaching my ten-year-old son Henry in basketball at Pearl Park again this year. A few weeks ago, I had to talk to him about shooting too much. He plays just like me: never met a shot he doesn't like. I had to come with the do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do thing and tell him that guys don't like to play with ball hogs ("bucks" in my day), that basketball is best when you pass; when you move the ball and move without the ball, when the five acts as one. He was so pissed off at me. He was embarrassed. We had words.

Our next game was against one of his best friends', Jonathan's, team, whose coach I play pick-up ball with on Sunday mornings. It was a great game. Everybody in the packed gym was into it, the game went into overtime, and my son hit a three-pointer to win it. At the end of the game, our guys went nuts, and Henry came over to the bench and gave me a quick hug.

I'm bringing him and as many of his teammates as can make it to see the Henry-De game Friday night. I want them to get psyched for our all-day tournament at Pearl on Saturday. I want them to see basketball played by people who love the game and play it the right way, but don't get paid for it. I want them to see cool older guys caring passionately about the game, so much so that some of them get their hearts broken. I want them to know that getting your heart broken is part of life, but that if you're lucky, you might live long enough to hang around the perimeter and put up a few threes.

Posted by Jim Walsh at March 15, 2006 10:53 AM | Comments (13)

 

Oklahoma City mayor offers to host New Orleans Hornets

Filed under: NBA

Oklahoma City Mayor Mick Cornett has offered the New Orleans Hornets a temporary home at the Ford Center for their upcoming NBA season. Hornets general manager Allan Bristow said no decision had been made on where the team would play. As with the NFL's Saints, LSU could be an option, with the Pete Maravich Assembly Center seating 14,000. Read the entire Associated Press story here.

Posted by Corey Anderson at September 2, 2005 2:42 PM | Comments (0)

 

One of my favorite jerks

Filed under: NBA

Unlike most people, who consider Dallas Mavericks owner Mark Cuban to be an asshole, I've always liked the guy and regarded him as something of a kindred spirit (which doesn't necessarily mean he isn't an asshole). One of the few people who got out fabulously rich before the dot.com boom was revealed to be as much of a fever dream as Haight-Ashbury's Summer of Love, Cuban bought himself a basketball team, opened his wallet to upgrade his perennially woeful squad with quality players, and then treated them to the best perks his money could buy. Watching him sit behind the bench, baiting the refs, trying not to be a jock-sniffing doofus but occasionally losing control and doling out high-fives and back-slaps to his team, he was obviously first and foremost a stone hoops fan.

Anyway, when Cuban bought the Mavs back in the late 90s, one of the few players on the roster that was worth a damn was Michael Finley. The other day, Cuban made a smart business decision and cut Finley. For those who think Mark Cuban has no class, check out his account of how and why he dumped the fading star and longest-tenured Mav.

Posted by Britt Robson at August 17, 2005 10:44 PM | Comments (1)

 

Can Flip flip the script?

Filed under: NBA

Regular readers of my Hang Time column know I've generally been an admirer of former Wolves coach Flip Saunders, easily the best bench jockey in the history of that franchise (against woeful competition) and someone who was unfairly scapegoated last season. Even so, I don't think Saunders taking over as the new coach of the Detroit Pistons yesterday will be a beneficial fit for either side.

A story in yesterday's Detroit Free Press was pegged on Flip's fabled adaptability, something he always emphasized with pride. But the most compelling evidence of that trait is a decade old, a remnant from his old days in the minor league CBA, when he'd constantly be losing his best players to the NBA and have to adjust on the fly. By contrast, amid nine years of revolving personnel in Minnesota, Saunders had a consistent, signature style. And it's not one that will wear well in Motown.

With the Wolves, Flip's teams were built first and foremost on a voluminous playbook and crisp, constant passing that generated high-percentage, mid-range shots in the half-court offense. Scouts really admired Flip because figuring out all the permutations of his set plays was such a challenge (and obviously right up their alley).

But there are a lot of things Flip doesn't emphasize. He'll play one-on-one, star-oriented basketball only if he unearths and chooses to exploit a glaring mismatch. His teams in Minnesota were consistently abysmal at penetrating to the hoop, drawing fouls, or otherwise scoring in the paint. Teams with a physical, bruising style, such as Utah under Jerry Sloan and many of the clus in the Eastern Conference, often were able to impose their will on Saunders' teams.

Although Flip is like almost every coach (including Dwane Casey, the man who replaced him in Minnesota) in claiming that defense is his abiding priority, it simply wasn't borne out by the character of his teams. The best defensive ballclub during his tenure here crystallized by default, when injuries to Wally Szczerbiak and Michael Olowokandi created ample minutes for Trenton Hassell and Ervin Johnson. Coaches who truly emphasize defense are maniacs about it, willing to bench or trade people who don't play it effectively. Greg Popovich is such a coach. Larry Brown, Flip's predecessor in Detroit, is another. Flip isn't, and a suspicious jury is still out on whether or not Casey will be.

One school of thought is that the offensively gifted coach and the defensively tenacious players will shore each other up. But the depth of defensive tenacity deployed by squads like the Pistons and the Spurs only occurs if you have a pack mentality, like a dogs pulling a sled. That requires a musher, an unyielding taskmaster, at the controls, and I repeat, that's not Flip. The Pistons will probably be among the league's top half-dozen defenses under Saunders, but it is hard to see how either he goads them or they collectively discipline themselves to the elite level of the past two seasons.

It's revealing that when Casey was announced as coach here, he stated that the Wolves needed above all to tighten up their defense. About a week later, knowing that he'd spent many hours breaking down film on his new club, I asked Casey if there had been any pleasant surprises in what he'd seen. He replied that the potential for defensive improvement among the leftover personnel was greater than he first thought; that the team seemed to defend the paint and the perimeter much more aggressively later in the season. That, of course, is when Kevin McHale had taken over for Saunders.

As for the personnel in Detroit, the key relationship will be Flip and Chauncey Billups. As a former point guard, Flip is more judgmental about that position than any other. During Billups' tenure in Minnesota, one got the impression, rarely overtly, but often covertly, that Flip felt Billups didn't read the floor and move the ball as well as the system required (which was true); that he looked for his own shot a little too often (generally true); and that, ironically, he wasn't a staunch enough defender (hard to believe, but true back then). Saunders and the rest of the Wolves coaching staff weren't particularly aggrieved when Joe Dumars and the Pistons snapped up Billups in free agency, and matching what they believed to be an unrealistically high number was never seriously entertained in Minnesota's front office. Gambling on Terrell Brandon returning from injury, or signing a point guard on the cheap (which turned out to be Troy Hudson) were both seen as shrewder options than inking Billups to a sizable long-term deal. I heartily agreed with their cynical assessment.

Three years later, Billups not only has the last laugh, he has some leverage in the locker room that could help make or break Saunders. Under Brown, Billups was tutored into becoming a better-than-average defender. He also transformed himself into one of the game's more renowned clutch shooters, meaning he doesn't have to pass the fucking ball if he doesn't feel like it. He owns one more ring and two more trips to the finals than Flip possesses. Two years ago, Flip came to a very productive compromise with Sam Cassell on the operation of the offense, ceding as much as he seized with respect to running the show, in part because Cassell's court vision and deadly midrange jumper fit Flip's system so well. Billups's package of skills is less simpatico, but Flip needs to make at least as many concessions, and hope Chauncey remains the genuinely nice guy he was in Minnesota and not nurse a grudge.

Then there's Rasheed Wallace, who respected the impulsively combative Larry Brown enough to tone down his antics, but may get itchy and test the congenitally non-combative Saunders at some point during the season. And as for the conundrum of Darko, even with Kevin McHale on board, how many big men besides Kevin Garnett flourished in Minnesota?

This sounds more negative toward Saunders than I intend it to be, simply to put forth my argument. The guy is a fantastic coach in terms of organization, X's-and-O's, creating a comfortable but focused atmosphere, and, yes, in making adjustments without whining. He's also great with owners, general managers, and the media, which played no small part in him getting this job. As ESPN.com's Marc Stein rightly points out in this column, the easy route for Flip to take was through Milwaukee, which has a promising young nucleus and little pressure to win immediately. Saunders should be given credit for challenging himself. But Detroit Pistons basketball has seen two periods in the past 20 years when hardcore, blue-collar defense and a combative, take-no-prisoners style have produced taut, exciting, late-round playoff losses and some glorious championships. Both the fans and the players won't be patient with any signs of slippage from that standard, a level Flip achieved just once in his nine years in Minnesota.

I sincerely hope Flip proves me and the other naysayers wrong; that his adaptability includes the ability to get in players' faces and demand that they defend for him the way they did for Brown. At the very least, he has earned the opportunity now before him: To succeed, or fail, with a bona fide championship contender.

Posted by Britt Robson at July 22, 2005 5:01 PM | Comments (0)

 

The Only NBA Draft Preview To Read

Filed under: NBA

For those of you unfamiliar with The Sports Guy, espn.com's columnist is not only one of the most astute sports commentators in any medium, he's funny as hell. In honor of tonight's NBA draft, The Sports Guy (real name, Bill Simmons) has compiled his Top 60 moments from the past eight NBA drafts. Perhaps only Summers would be anal enough to keep a diary of the past eight drafts AND to lace it with so many hilarious insights. It helps if you know all the trivial figures he spools out, but even neophytes can find a laugh or two here. It is the perfect antidote to all the blather folks who tune in tonight will hear about players who, aside from a handful of sure things, represent one of the weirdest billion-dollar crapshoots in all of pro sports.

Posted by Britt Robson at June 28, 2005 4:34 PM | Comments (1)

 

NBA Finals Preview

Filed under: NBA

The most competitive championship matchup in over a decade will go the seven-game distance.

I was wrong about ?Sheed. I thought Miami's Udonis Haslem would frustrate his offense in the paint, box him out of precious rebounds, and compel him to launch the ill-advised outside jumpers he's prone to jacking up anyway. It was a crucial match-up, and the primary reason I called the Heat to win the Eastern Conference Finals. But Rasheed Wallace, the hot-tempered dude with the super-cool tats and the quarter-sized splotch of white hair near the top of his otherwise ebony noggin, proved me wrong about everything but the match-up being crucial.

When the Detroit Pistons acquired ?Sheed for four players and a number-one draft pick in February 2004, he was the missing link that transformed the team into NBA Champions. Infamous for his tantrums, he began channeling his intensity into teamwork, tailoring his versatile skills to fit coach Larry Brown's unselfish, defensive-oriented system. And while he is still prone to popping off, drawing technical fouls and occasionally guaranteeing wins in comments to the media, he's obviously part of the fierce inner circle of personalities at the core of the Pistons, much loved and thriving because of it. This year, Detroit is 8-0 in the playoffs when ?Sheed scores 20 points or better.

It happened in three of the four wins required to beat the Heat, all of them absolutely vital to the momentum and outcome of the series. In Game One, ?Sheed's 20 points led the Pistons in scoring and enabled them to temporarily steal homecourt advantage. In Game Four, he racked up another 20, in just 22 minutes, to help even the series instead of forcing Detroit to go back to Miami down three games to one. And, after Haslem made me look smart by dominating his matchup with ?Sheed in Games Five and Six, Wallace was arguably the MVP of the deciding Game Seven, providing a game-turning tip-in and two clutch free throws in crunch time en route to another 20-point outing.

So now Detroit and ?Sheed are back in the NBA Finals, encountering the San Antonio Spurs in what should be the most competitive championship series in more than a decade. Unlike the previous round, where I felt fairly confident about San Antonio and Miami, I wouldn't be surprised to see either team emerge victorious, and think the series will go the entire seven games. Here are some of the key elements I'll be watching.

Perhaps the biggest variable is how much and how effectively each club resorts to crossover defensive assignments. The offenses of both teams are ignited by their shooting guards, while the perimeter stoppers for both teams are their small forwards. How much the Pistons' Tayshaun Prince is assigned to guard Manu Ginobili, and how often the Spurs' Bruce Bowen is put on Rip Hamilton will dictate how both teams attack the basket.

Both Ginobili and Hamilton are energizer bunnies who never stop running, and it would be fascinating to watch them engage in an endurance test by strictly guarding each other. That won't happen for a variety of reasons. Ginobili is better than Hamilton at penetrating to the hoop off the dribble, plays bigger than Hamilton (although at 6-7, Hamilton is an inch taller), loves to draw contact, and is a momentum generator who, as much as possible, needs to be nipped in the bud. The Pistons' best response is guarding him with Prince, who is a supple 6-9 with a huge wingspan, and is a maestro at deterring penetration without drawing the foul.

At the other end, Hamilton utilizes screens along the baseline and the elbows of the foul line for spot-up, mid-range jumpers that are the most reliable staple of the Pistons offense. Bowen is a highly physical?many say dirty?defender who impedes motion as much as possible and fights through and weaves around picks with grit and guile. But given how many picks are set for Rip, and how quickly he can catch and shoot, I don't think Bowen is as much of a defensive upgrade over Ginobili as Prince is over Hamilton in this series. Furthermore, with Bowen (whose primary offensive weapon is an three-pointer from the weak side) in the game, Hamilton can essentially conserve his energy by guarding him when Detroit is on defense. It wouldn't surprise me to see the Spurs leave Ginobili on Hamilton more than vice versa, and utilize Robert Horry and Brent Barry to expose mismatches with Hamilton. For the same reason, I suspect Lindsay Hunter will be used against Ginobili in the same way that he was called upon to deter Miami's Dwyane Wade in the conference finals.

The bottom line: Bowen will be less of a factor than most people anticipate. Horry and Barry will burn Detroit enough to pry Prince off of Ginobelli more often than the Pistons prefer. Hamilton will score plenty no matter who is guarding him. But because San Antonio is so much quicker than Miami on interior defense and in response to the pick and roll, Hamilton won't come close to averaging seven assists per game, as he did in the last series.

Meanwhile, it is also likely that defensive-oriented starting centers Ben Wallace and Nazr Mohammed will often be called upon to guard their opponents' more offensively gifted power forwards, Tim Duncan and Rasheed Wallace. One might imagine that Ben Wallace, the NBA's Defensive Player of the Year this season, guarding the superstar Duncan would be a marquee match-up. But this is precisely where I think San Antonio has an marked advantage, provided Duncan dishes to his teammates as effectively as Shaq did in the previous series.

It's odd to me that Duncan has this squeaky-clean reputation, when he's one of the biggest whiners in the league with the officials, and can occasionally be a bit of a ball-hog, especially since he's surrounded by Ginobeili, point guard Tony Parker, and deadly long-range shooters like Horry and Barry. If Ben Wallace switches on Duncan, it will be interesting to see how often the "Big Fundamental" engineers the best possible shot, either for himself or his teammates. Most often, he should move the ball around, because after getting steamrolled by Shaq for seven games, Ben Wallace is going to regard Duncan's butt-pushing low-post manuvers as a vacation. (As always, the caveat to any analysis or predictions about low-post matchups is what the refs are calling for fouls. Ben and Rasheed Wallace have to remember that more contact is allowed on both sides when Shaq is playing, and bodying Duncan in the same manner is likely to draw a whistle.)

Meanwhile, if ?Sheed is hitting his outside shot, the Spurs could be in big trouble. San Antonio would love to save Duncan's energy by having him guard the offensively indifferent (if marginally improved) scorer Ben Wallace, leaving Mohammed to contend with Rasheed. But if ?Sheed is nailing that three-pointer, especially trailing the fast break as the Spurs scramble to defend down low, Mohammed can't hang with him. Consequently, Duncan either chases him or becomes the de facto center because Horry has been assigned the task. It is entirely possible that the Pistons will continue to be unbeaten in playoff games where ?Sheed gets 20 or better this year.

Which brings us to the point guard matchup, which, as every analyst has already pointed out, pits the physicality of Chauncey Billups against the quickness of Tony Parker. I'd argue that a bigger distinction between the two is crunch-time confidence. Billups earned the Finals MVP award last year and has embraced the "Mr. Big Shot" moniker that has subsequently been affixed to him. The four free throws he made to ice the Miami series in Game Seven didn't even graze the iron. Parker is much more skitterish, mentally as well as physically. Like most of his teammates, he's not reliable at the free throw line, and perhaps even less so with the game in the balance. On the other hand, if he's allowed to get into a rhythm and his confidence soars, he'll generate a passel of fouls throughout the Pistons lineup and torment Detroit with his ingenuity and ability to finish in the paint.

Bottom line: San Antonio's chances of winning will rise and fall with Duncan's assist total and Parker's point total, although Rasheed's point total will be an even larger factor on the outcome. Billups will abuse Parker's defense more with pull-up jumpers than post-ups in the low block.

Finally, I don't think San Antonio can win this series without pulling off a nip-and-tuck victory somewhere along the way. As mentally tough as the Spurs have been this year, Detroit has the swagger and galvanizing sense of personal security that accrues to a tempered champion. They will not fold, they will have to be vanquished. And at some point that means the Spurs will have to hit their free throws or make their stops or convert their sliver of a chance at the precise moment when failure to do so spells defeat.

That's how close I think this series will be. And, on the strength of Duncan's good judgment, Ginobeili's kamikaze acrobatics, a pinch of Robert Horry, and a naked hunch, I'll call the Spurs in 7.

Posted by Britt Robson at June 9, 2005 6:01 PM

 

Shaq offers to pay for Mikan's funeral

Filed under: NBA

Miami Heat star Shaquille O'Neal has offered to pay the expenses for George Mikan's funeral. "Without No. 99, there is no me," said O'Neal. Mikan led the Minneapolis Lakers to five titles in a six-year span, while O'Neal carried the Los Angeles Lakers to three consecutive championships from 2000-2002. Mikan's son Terry stated it was up to his mother whether to accept Shaq's offer and mentioned that the elder Mikan and O'Neal had been close friends.

Read the complete AP story here.

Posted by Corey Anderson at June 3, 2005 2:10 PM

 

Minneapolis Laker legend George Mikan dead at 80

Filed under: NBA

AP is reporting Minneapolis Laker George Mikan died Wednesday night, having suffered from diabetes and kidney failure. George Mikan's Lakers won five of the first six NBA titles after the league was formed in 1948. He averaged 23.1 points per game in seven seasons with Minneapolis before retiring because of injuries in 1956. Mikan was the league's MVP in its inaugural 1948-49 season, when he averaged 28.3 points in leading the Lakers to the NBA title.

Read the rest of the story here.

Posted by Corey Anderson at June 2, 2005 1:12 PM

 

Eastern Conference Finals Preview

Filed under: NBA

Eastern Conference Finals Preview

Trying to distill a playoff series preview down to two or three key elements is generally a foolhardy endeavor, especially for a matchup as compelling as the Pistons versus the Heat. Injuries, adjustments, and officiating (in that order) are three wild cards that can turn an initially prescient analysis logy and anachronistic. That said, I think that the longer Detroit is forced to utilize Antonio McDyess in close games, the less chance the Pistons have of besting Miami.

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