On Friday night—ahh, at last—the Knicks came to town! I could practically see MJ standing by the Knicks’ team bus as it pulled up, shaking their hands with each player as he stepped off. "Welcome, Zeke, always great to have you; and who’s this little man brought with you—Z-Bo? Great, great trade, by the way." We have to be nice to these guys, because let’s face it: now that Atlanta’s gotten all respectable and whatnot, and Sacramento’s buffoonish Maloof brothers have either died or are holed up in a hotel casino, snorting coke and lighting firecrackers, I feel like the Knicks are the only ones preventing us from becoming the #1 league-wide joke.
On the other hand, what a safety net! The Knicks continue to be a sad burlesque of a franchise, the type of disaster that when Quentin Richardson and Isiah Thomas get into a heated and very public exchange (as they did tonight), it’s considered to be progress. Although New York didn’t have Starbury suiting up, he still managed to come through with his own wonderful magic. Just before tip-off, the latest issue of Dime magazine found its way to my mailbox, and it contains a gem of an interview with Steph. Here’s the best part:
Dime: People were emailing links to the videos of your interviews, especially the Bruce Beck appearance.
Marbury: And saying that I’m on coke? That I’m on crack, right?
Dime: You guys have known each other for a while, right?
Marbury: Yeah…now here I am having fun, bugging out, tripping out…and so now I’m crazy? So now I’m on crack?
Dime: The word “crazy” has been attached to you a lot lately when people are talking about you.
Marbury: Yeah, that and I’m on crack.
Oh, Steph, promise me you’ll never change; you’re a candle in the wind. Anyway, after a frighteningly competitive first few minutes, we went on a 23-7 run to take control of the game, en route to 67 first-half points. We could have actually gone scoreless for the first eight minutes of the second quarter and still just been tied—so ineffective was New York. With guys like Eddy Curry and Zach Randolph, it’s always to tough to figure out whether they’re just not trying hard, or they’re simply too overweight to move very fast; I guess it’s two sides of the same coin.
And for all the talk you always hear about how Zeke needs to play David Lee more, yowsers, he was really bad. He shot just 5-13 from the field—and these weren’t exactly half-court attempts, if you catch my drift—plus he made just 1-of-6 free throws and had four turnovers, each of which was spectacularly awful. Meanwhile, our own big guys came to play. Our savior (Nazr) Mohammed had 20 points, 14 boards, and 4 blocks, while Okafor had 17 and 8. In fact, every starter scored into double-digits, led by Gerald Wallace with 27.
In the 3rd quarter, when we pushed the lead out to 29, Thomas began benching his players. But after the jawing session with Richardson, I was halfway expecting him to do something completely radical, like reassign positions at random—maybe put in Nate Robinson at center with Curry running the point. Instead, the Knicks buckled down a bit and made things a little more interesting at the end. But with Lee clanking foul shots and a slew of missed put-backs by the Knicks, plus our 50% shooting, things were never really in doubt. I just hope Jordan left them some nice mints in their lockers; they’re welcome them back anytime.
Sadly, the good times didn’t continue the next night in Milwaukee. Things started with a calamitous road trip, featuring inclement weather, delayed flights, bus trips, and pretty much everything but John Candy trying to sell Sam Vincent some shower curtain rings. The team arrived only a few minutes before tip off, and the Bucks had target-lock on the hoop. And though we fought hard to come back out of double-digit wilderness by shooting over 50% for the second straight night, it’s like saying Sal Maglie pitched a great game against Don Larsen in the 1956 World Series, because the Bucks were just about perfect. By my count, Milwaukee scored on 12 of their first 14 possessions to start the 3rd quarter, stretching an 11-point halftime lead out to 22.
The chief perfectionist was Yi Jianlian, who hit his first 12 from the field and finished 14-17. These weren’t point-blank makes either; most of them were long-range baseline 2’s. In my opinion, this will go down as one of the more unheralded-but-extraordinary performances of the season. Mo Williams was the runner-up MVP, hitting 9-of-20 for 22 points, penetrating often, and assisting more than public housing. Oddly, Michael Redd was the weak link for the Bucks tonight, missing a ton of open shots (10-of-27).
All in all though, things still seem to be looking up slightly as we cruise into the holiday break. I’ve been downplaying the now-famous Jordan-run practice a few days ago, because I didn’t think it would amount to anything. Because the Observer’s Scott Fowler basically described it as a repeated succession of Jordan shooting and scoring on our guys, my thought at the time was, did he teach us anything other than getting schooled? I mean, don’t we already have that part down? But who knows, maybe he’s injected some guts and leadership into our guys. Oh yeah, there’s also that little Primoz-for-Nazr deal, which has been an upgrade worthy of a show called “Pimp My Center.”
Monday, December 24, 2007
Friday, December 21, 2007
Bobcats Thoughts, 12/21
Very strange win against Utah on Wednesday night. The Jazz were (was?) up by 12 points late in the fourth and completely derailed. Usually when I’m watching a team unravel like that, a) it happens in the 3rd quarter, and b) it’s our team. And actually, I missed a lot of our run for this one. In fact, after Andrei Kirilenko sank two free throws to make the score 86-74, my personal contribution to the amazing comeback that followed was sighing dejectedly and going off to brush my teeth. Meanwhile, the Jazz went on to miss two layups, throw a horrible pass out-of-bounds (courtesy of Derron Williams), and commit 4 fouls and a shot clock violation over the next few minutes. By the time I came back for a cursory check of what I thought would be a deficit somewhere in the high teens, we were actually UP a point.
And it only got worse from there for Utah, who seemed to be on some sort of suicide mission without any upside. They were like Bruce Willis at the end of the movie Armageddon, only if his explosion didn’t blow up the asteroid and save the world but simply paid for some acting lessons for Liv Tyler. Actually, even that would have been a small upside. So I don’t know what happened with the Jazz, but what I do know is this: any of you Carlos Boozer-for-MVP campaigners out there might want to hide the tape of this game, just like Rudi Giuliani backers might want to shred any Econo Lodge and Motel 6 receipts from 2000-01 that they come across. The Booze scored a grand total of 2 points over the last 6 minutes, committed three fouls, a turnover, and had just one board.
The Bobcats, on the other hand, hit the boards like a bong, getting key rebounds from not just Gerald Wallace and Emeka Okafor, but also J-Rich, Felton, and even Matt Carroll. Crash had an absolutely Kareem-tastic block-and-steal on a seemingly wide open Ronnie Brewer layup with 90-seconds left that preserved a 3-point lead, and Felton’s subsequent free throws iced it. And speaking of which, what’s with the sudden foul shooting proficiency? I counted 20-of-22 foul shots made in the fourth. The only explanation I have is that the Knicks beat Cleveland by 18—there was just something in the NBA air tonight, and not even Phil Collins could feel it coming.
And look at Nazr Mohammed! He catches, he rebounds, he blocks, he…he…does things. With those two stuffs he had down the stretch, Nazr not only helped save the game, I think he also passed Primoz Brezec on the Bobcats’ all-time shot-block list. Sure, Nazr only had 17 points, which isn’t amazing or anything, but you know what this is like? This is like getting an appliance for the first time that most people already have. Like if you just now bought a microwave, or even better: a dishwasher. Let's say that until now you’ve just been making due by scrubbing all of your dishes with soap, and then one day you finally get a dishwasher, and it’s like magic! And then you try to tell everyone at work how amazing it is to have a dishwasher, and they’re looking at you like you’re insane, because they’ve never NOT had a dishwasher. That’s what Nazr Mohammed’s like. We’ve essentially been making due without a center this entire time, which most NBA teams have, and even though we just got the basic version, it’s completely going to transform our lives for the better. I think this is what people are overlooking when they criticize the Brezec-Herrmann/Mohammed deal.
And it only got worse from there for Utah, who seemed to be on some sort of suicide mission without any upside. They were like Bruce Willis at the end of the movie Armageddon, only if his explosion didn’t blow up the asteroid and save the world but simply paid for some acting lessons for Liv Tyler. Actually, even that would have been a small upside. So I don’t know what happened with the Jazz, but what I do know is this: any of you Carlos Boozer-for-MVP campaigners out there might want to hide the tape of this game, just like Rudi Giuliani backers might want to shred any Econo Lodge and Motel 6 receipts from 2000-01 that they come across. The Booze scored a grand total of 2 points over the last 6 minutes, committed three fouls, a turnover, and had just one board.
The Bobcats, on the other hand, hit the boards like a bong, getting key rebounds from not just Gerald Wallace and Emeka Okafor, but also J-Rich, Felton, and even Matt Carroll. Crash had an absolutely Kareem-tastic block-and-steal on a seemingly wide open Ronnie Brewer layup with 90-seconds left that preserved a 3-point lead, and Felton’s subsequent free throws iced it. And speaking of which, what’s with the sudden foul shooting proficiency? I counted 20-of-22 foul shots made in the fourth. The only explanation I have is that the Knicks beat Cleveland by 18—there was just something in the NBA air tonight, and not even Phil Collins could feel it coming.
And look at Nazr Mohammed! He catches, he rebounds, he blocks, he…he…does things. With those two stuffs he had down the stretch, Nazr not only helped save the game, I think he also passed Primoz Brezec on the Bobcats’ all-time shot-block list. Sure, Nazr only had 17 points, which isn’t amazing or anything, but you know what this is like? This is like getting an appliance for the first time that most people already have. Like if you just now bought a microwave, or even better: a dishwasher. Let's say that until now you’ve just been making due by scrubbing all of your dishes with soap, and then one day you finally get a dishwasher, and it’s like magic! And then you try to tell everyone at work how amazing it is to have a dishwasher, and they’re looking at you like you’re insane, because they’ve never NOT had a dishwasher. That’s what Nazr Mohammed’s like. We’ve essentially been making due without a center this entire time, which most NBA teams have, and even though we just got the basic version, it’s completely going to transform our lives for the better. I think this is what people are overlooking when they criticize the Brezec-Herrmann/Mohammed deal.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
NFL Thoughts, Week 15
If the analysis I did last week were drugs, it’d be marijuana: a gateway, experimental narcotic that leads to much more addictive ones. It was supposed to just be for recreation, all in good fun—“hey, everyone else on the internet’s doing it, how bad could it be?”—and now look at me, I’m completely strung out on stats.
If you recall at the end of my Week 14 thoughts, I realized that I hadn’t fully answered my own question about how important special teams units are to a team’s overall success, and that there were many other ways of looking at it. Thus I began fiending for more analysis, and now I’m fresh off a marathon binge of numbers-crunching that will probably cost me my job and my family, all in an effort to seek that euphoric knowledge high. And though I’ve got a more complete perspective on that special teams question, I’m STILL not satisfied—there’s more I can do! It’s like I’ve gone from the pot of results comparisons last week to the crack-cocaine of percentages THIS week, and I’m basically one week away from the full-fledged crystal meth of positive and negative correlations. No more! I must stop before you catch me in a gutter somewhere, turning tricks in exchange for hits off of someone’s Excel spreadsheet.
But all that said, what a rush! I feel like Motley Crue’s Vince Neil or Poison’s CC DeVille anytime they’re interviewed on one of those lame “Behind the Music” documentaries. Sure, they’re a mess now, and they’d take back all of the coke, strippers, etc. if they could, but there’s an unmistakable gleam of nostalgia in their eyes when they talk about it.
So here’s what I did: in my continuing quest to figure out the importance of special teams, I’ve chopped up six years’ worth of overall team stats and injected them into my MS Office Excel, then snorted them into my brain (and vomited out results, I guess, to complete the entirely unnecessarily graphic analogy). I chose three offensive categories: total yards, total points, and total giveaways (lost fumbles + interceptions). Then I selected three defensive categories: total yards allowed, total points allowed, and total takeaways (recovered fumbles + interceptions). Then I used the same six special team categories I used last year: kickoff return yards, kickoff return touchdowns, punt return yards, punt return touchdowns, % of punts that pinned the opposition inside the 20, and average net yards per punt.
Having selected my stats, I went through every single category for each season’s playoff teams and checked whether or not it was within the Top-12 for that year. The two exceptions to the “Top 12 Test” were the kickoff returns and punt returns for touchdowns, in which case I observed whether or not the team had more of two of them (the vast majority of teams only return 1 or fewer kickoffs and punts for touchdowns each year). If this sounds easy to do, it’s not. In fact, I’m not even sure it sounds easy—just trying to describe what I did is giving me a contact high.
So having done all that, it was time for a little subjectivity (subjectivity is the statistician’s chaser). I decided that a team’s overall offense was “stellar” if it ranked in the top-12 in all three categories, “good” if it was top-12 in 2-out-of-3, “bad” if it was top-12 in just 1-out-of-3, and “awful” if it wasn’t in the top-12 in any category (considering that I was only dealing with playoff teams, there were a surprising number of “bads” and “awfuls”—more on that later). Then I did the exact same thing with the defensive categories. Special teams were a little trickier, because I had six categories, rather than just three. So I decided that 5 or 6 top-12 categories rated a “stellar,” 3 or 4 rated a “good,” 2 rated a “bad,” and 1 or 0 warranted an “awful.”
Then it was time for the ultimate trip: the results. Of the 72 playoff teams of the past 6 years, 25 had “bad” or “awful” offenses, 25 “bad” or “awful” defenses, and a whopping 47 “bad” or “awful” special teams. So by that measure, special teams are far less important than the other two units. Incidentally, there were more “stellar” offenses than defenses (26 to 19), and fewer “awful” offenses than defenses (9 to 11) among the playoff teams, so I suppose that great offenses are better than great defenses—contrary to all we hear about defenses winning to championships. And yet, there are probably other ways to answer this…STOP! I better stop right there before the cops are surrounding my apartment, and someone with a megaphone is telling me to “step away from the laptop.”
Back to special teams! Of those 72 playoff teams, four of them actually had “good” or “stellar” special teams and “bad” or “awful” offenses and defenses. So by that count, it would seem that special teams CAN actually carry a team to the playoffs…until you try the same measurement with offenses and defenses and find that 13 “good” or “stellar” offenses have overcome “bad” or “awful” defenses and special teams through the years. Similarly 15 “good” or “stellar” defenses have overcome offenses and special teams that were both either “bad” or “awful.” So once again, the stats show that the significance of crack special teams units should be marginalized (AND that defense might be more important than offense, but again, I’ll stop right there).
Let’s see, was there anything else? Is that all I have to show for this? I guess there was one other thing: just for kicks, I was wondering how many were playoff teams were “good” or “stellar” in ALL THREE categories (offense, defense, and special teams), and it turns out that there have been 13. And of course, then I had no choice but to find out if/how many teams have been “bad” or “awful” in all three areas, and there have actually been 3, believe it or not: last year’s Giants (which most New Yorkers probably have NO PROBLEM believing), the 2004-05 Rams, and last year’s Seahawks, who happened to be the only playoff team of the last 6 years with the dubious honor of being “awful” in all three categories. So if you’re a fan of those any of those franchises and have been feeling vaguely guilty for criticizing them even though they made the playoffs, Merry Christmas from me.
So anyway, the conclusion is…ummm, I forgot the question was at this point. Oh yeah, with very few exceptions, special teams are pretty much not that important…which is actually what all of us know intuitively in the first place. I’ve basically accomplished nothing. I suppose I’m at least a good cautionary tale. Stay away from spreadsheets, kids, because they’ll ruin your life. Try smoking pot instead…
Defensive Player of the Week: Scott Fujita, Saints. 10 tackles, 2 sacks, and a FF kept the playoff dream alive for the Saints against Arizona. Too bad he can’t run the ball for Reggie Bush and Deuce McAllister.
Offensive Player of the Week: Fred Taylor, Jaguars. Taylor’s 147 yards and a TD on 25 carries against a solid Steelers defense keyed a huge road victory for the Jags. From now on, Fred Taylor should be an adjective that describes a consistently excellent player who nonetheless flies under the radar for most of his career, as in “Curtis Martin had a very Fred Taylor-ish career.” Incidentally, this week’s runner up, Jamal Lewis could also describe a player who’s great even after he does an extended stint in prison. For instance, in 2010, we could all be saying, “Mike Vick just pulled a great Jamal Lewis.”
If you recall at the end of my Week 14 thoughts, I realized that I hadn’t fully answered my own question about how important special teams units are to a team’s overall success, and that there were many other ways of looking at it. Thus I began fiending for more analysis, and now I’m fresh off a marathon binge of numbers-crunching that will probably cost me my job and my family, all in an effort to seek that euphoric knowledge high. And though I’ve got a more complete perspective on that special teams question, I’m STILL not satisfied—there’s more I can do! It’s like I’ve gone from the pot of results comparisons last week to the crack-cocaine of percentages THIS week, and I’m basically one week away from the full-fledged crystal meth of positive and negative correlations. No more! I must stop before you catch me in a gutter somewhere, turning tricks in exchange for hits off of someone’s Excel spreadsheet.
But all that said, what a rush! I feel like Motley Crue’s Vince Neil or Poison’s CC DeVille anytime they’re interviewed on one of those lame “Behind the Music” documentaries. Sure, they’re a mess now, and they’d take back all of the coke, strippers, etc. if they could, but there’s an unmistakable gleam of nostalgia in their eyes when they talk about it.
So here’s what I did: in my continuing quest to figure out the importance of special teams, I’ve chopped up six years’ worth of overall team stats and injected them into my MS Office Excel, then snorted them into my brain (and vomited out results, I guess, to complete the entirely unnecessarily graphic analogy). I chose three offensive categories: total yards, total points, and total giveaways (lost fumbles + interceptions). Then I selected three defensive categories: total yards allowed, total points allowed, and total takeaways (recovered fumbles + interceptions). Then I used the same six special team categories I used last year: kickoff return yards, kickoff return touchdowns, punt return yards, punt return touchdowns, % of punts that pinned the opposition inside the 20, and average net yards per punt.
Having selected my stats, I went through every single category for each season’s playoff teams and checked whether or not it was within the Top-12 for that year. The two exceptions to the “Top 12 Test” were the kickoff returns and punt returns for touchdowns, in which case I observed whether or not the team had more of two of them (the vast majority of teams only return 1 or fewer kickoffs and punts for touchdowns each year). If this sounds easy to do, it’s not. In fact, I’m not even sure it sounds easy—just trying to describe what I did is giving me a contact high.
So having done all that, it was time for a little subjectivity (subjectivity is the statistician’s chaser). I decided that a team’s overall offense was “stellar” if it ranked in the top-12 in all three categories, “good” if it was top-12 in 2-out-of-3, “bad” if it was top-12 in just 1-out-of-3, and “awful” if it wasn’t in the top-12 in any category (considering that I was only dealing with playoff teams, there were a surprising number of “bads” and “awfuls”—more on that later). Then I did the exact same thing with the defensive categories. Special teams were a little trickier, because I had six categories, rather than just three. So I decided that 5 or 6 top-12 categories rated a “stellar,” 3 or 4 rated a “good,” 2 rated a “bad,” and 1 or 0 warranted an “awful.”
Then it was time for the ultimate trip: the results. Of the 72 playoff teams of the past 6 years, 25 had “bad” or “awful” offenses, 25 “bad” or “awful” defenses, and a whopping 47 “bad” or “awful” special teams. So by that measure, special teams are far less important than the other two units. Incidentally, there were more “stellar” offenses than defenses (26 to 19), and fewer “awful” offenses than defenses (9 to 11) among the playoff teams, so I suppose that great offenses are better than great defenses—contrary to all we hear about defenses winning to championships. And yet, there are probably other ways to answer this…STOP! I better stop right there before the cops are surrounding my apartment, and someone with a megaphone is telling me to “step away from the laptop.”
Back to special teams! Of those 72 playoff teams, four of them actually had “good” or “stellar” special teams and “bad” or “awful” offenses and defenses. So by that count, it would seem that special teams CAN actually carry a team to the playoffs…until you try the same measurement with offenses and defenses and find that 13 “good” or “stellar” offenses have overcome “bad” or “awful” defenses and special teams through the years. Similarly 15 “good” or “stellar” defenses have overcome offenses and special teams that were both either “bad” or “awful.” So once again, the stats show that the significance of crack special teams units should be marginalized (AND that defense might be more important than offense, but again, I’ll stop right there).
Let’s see, was there anything else? Is that all I have to show for this? I guess there was one other thing: just for kicks, I was wondering how many were playoff teams were “good” or “stellar” in ALL THREE categories (offense, defense, and special teams), and it turns out that there have been 13. And of course, then I had no choice but to find out if/how many teams have been “bad” or “awful” in all three areas, and there have actually been 3, believe it or not: last year’s Giants (which most New Yorkers probably have NO PROBLEM believing), the 2004-05 Rams, and last year’s Seahawks, who happened to be the only playoff team of the last 6 years with the dubious honor of being “awful” in all three categories. So if you’re a fan of those any of those franchises and have been feeling vaguely guilty for criticizing them even though they made the playoffs, Merry Christmas from me.
So anyway, the conclusion is…ummm, I forgot the question was at this point. Oh yeah, with very few exceptions, special teams are pretty much not that important…which is actually what all of us know intuitively in the first place. I’ve basically accomplished nothing. I suppose I’m at least a good cautionary tale. Stay away from spreadsheets, kids, because they’ll ruin your life. Try smoking pot instead…
Defensive Player of the Week: Scott Fujita, Saints. 10 tackles, 2 sacks, and a FF kept the playoff dream alive for the Saints against Arizona. Too bad he can’t run the ball for Reggie Bush and Deuce McAllister.
Offensive Player of the Week: Fred Taylor, Jaguars. Taylor’s 147 yards and a TD on 25 carries against a solid Steelers defense keyed a huge road victory for the Jags. From now on, Fred Taylor should be an adjective that describes a consistently excellent player who nonetheless flies under the radar for most of his career, as in “Curtis Martin had a very Fred Taylor-ish career.” Incidentally, this week’s runner up, Jamal Lewis could also describe a player who’s great even after he does an extended stint in prison. For instance, in 2010, we could all be saying, “Mike Vick just pulled a great Jamal Lewis.”
Monday, December 17, 2007
We moved Primoz? Great Trade! Who’d We Get?
Friday had to be one of the strangest days in Bobcats history—second only to the day ownership decided to give Charlotte’s new team the name “Bobcats.” Just a couple of nights after there was no television coverage of our game against the Clips whatsoever, ESPN ran a virtual all-day, um, “extravaganza” of “Insider Access” to Charlotte’s pre-game shootaround, conversations with Sam Vincent, Michael Jordan, Bob Johnson, a little fun with Jared Dudley, a gritty rehab session with Adam Morrison (remember him?), and a comically staged “meeting” of the coaching staff. All of this build-up culminated dramatically with a…total blowout by the vastly superior Orlando Magic.
If you’ve ever read an issue of Blender magazine, you know that every month they like to do a review of some longtime artist’s entire repertoire of albums (e.g., all of Bob Dylan’s work). The best part about the review is the way they divide up the albums into descending levels of quality. Instead of using plain old 1-4 stars, the category headers are “Essential,” “Great,” “Check It Out,” “Be Careful,” and “For Fans Only.” ESPN’s Insider Access was definitely for Bobcats fans only.
The screwiest part of the whole thing was the Bobcats had a real-live, major, behind-the-scenes deal actually happen: the trading of Primoz Brezec and Walter Herrmann to the Pistons for Nazr Muhammed. How amazing (and yes, I admit it, delightful) would it have been if ESPN had had a camera crew follow Vincent, Higgins, Jordan, or whoever it was who ultimately broke the news to Primo, as he walked up to the big guy, tapped him on the shoulder, and gave him the axe? What was Primoz’s reaction? Did he burst into tears? Did he leap for joy? Did he get suddenly terrified at the thought of playing with Rasheed Wallace? I’d believe any of those scenarios. Instead we just got a bunch of canned interviews—ESPN blew a golden opportunity on that one. It’s also weird when you go back and look at the clips later--which you can do on the ESPN.com web site--as there’s Primoz doing his thing in the morning shootaround, there’s Dudley showing off his merchandise at the team store, etc. It’s all pretty ghostly.
The one thing that’s worth looking at is Vincent’s meeting with the staff, which is unintentionally hilarious. Vincent clearly already had the real meeting prior to the taped one, so here he’s more or less “reenacting one”—the way all the staff members are vigorously nodding to his generic instructions is the dead giveaway. The meeting also leaves a couple of questions unanswered. First, there’s the decision in the “meeting” to send Jermareo Davidson down to the NBDL, yet he suited up for us that night and even played the next night in Atlanta—so what happened, did the Primoz trade nix that? Second, what’s with the mysterious Starbucks drink? It appears in various clips yet doesn’t always have a clear owner—so is it the same one, or is the whole staff hooked, or is one of them just serially addicted? I need to know these things.
As for the trade, Muhammed is slightly shorter than Brezec, costs about $3 million more (although he costs less than Anderson Varejao), and has more years on his contract, while Brezec’s was expiring this year (although it’s not like we’re on the hook with Theo Ratliff-levels of pain). Other than that, as far as I can see, it’s upgrades across the board, particularly in the areas of rebounds and simple ball handling. For the last two seasons, I swear, our guys almost couldn’t pass to Brezec without something bad happening. I’m convinced that his listed turnover rate this year, .81, was not even CLOSE to capturing the number of blunders he committed. I think it’s kind of like incomplete passes for quarterbacks in football, which almost always side with the receiver rather than the passer in terms of assigning the blame. Trust me, the number of times a pass in his direction resulted in a lost possession would have made for a deadly drinking game.
Herrmann gets a big fat “inconclusive” for his brief time here. Besides his hair, his biggest crime was playing in the one position in which we have depth to deal, particularly when you factor in Sean May and Morrison, who are untradeable right now with their injuries. If Walter had exhibited more down-and-dirty defensive prowess, he would have been more necessary. Instead (say the following line in a low, Carl Weathers growl:) he’s an asset, an expendable asset, and GM Rod Higgins used him to get the job done, got it?
The Bobcats’ subsequent two post-trade games were both dreadful affairs in which we were competitive in the first half, and then ignominiously clank-happy in the second. The first one was on ESPN, the second one took place in a desolate, quarantined-looking Phillips Arena in front of about 25 former WCW fans wearing Sting and Lex Lugar t-shirts. Dwight Howard was unstoppable in the first game, Joe Johnson was unstoppable in the second game, and Jason Richardson was highly stoppable in both games. In fact, I’m not even sure if these games rated high enough to be "for fans only"; they might have only been fun for future serial killers who have nothing better to do with themselves on Friday and Saturday night only (e.g., me).
If you’ve ever read an issue of Blender magazine, you know that every month they like to do a review of some longtime artist’s entire repertoire of albums (e.g., all of Bob Dylan’s work). The best part about the review is the way they divide up the albums into descending levels of quality. Instead of using plain old 1-4 stars, the category headers are “Essential,” “Great,” “Check It Out,” “Be Careful,” and “For Fans Only.” ESPN’s Insider Access was definitely for Bobcats fans only.
The screwiest part of the whole thing was the Bobcats had a real-live, major, behind-the-scenes deal actually happen: the trading of Primoz Brezec and Walter Herrmann to the Pistons for Nazr Muhammed. How amazing (and yes, I admit it, delightful) would it have been if ESPN had had a camera crew follow Vincent, Higgins, Jordan, or whoever it was who ultimately broke the news to Primo, as he walked up to the big guy, tapped him on the shoulder, and gave him the axe? What was Primoz’s reaction? Did he burst into tears? Did he leap for joy? Did he get suddenly terrified at the thought of playing with Rasheed Wallace? I’d believe any of those scenarios. Instead we just got a bunch of canned interviews—ESPN blew a golden opportunity on that one. It’s also weird when you go back and look at the clips later--which you can do on the ESPN.com web site--as there’s Primoz doing his thing in the morning shootaround, there’s Dudley showing off his merchandise at the team store, etc. It’s all pretty ghostly.
The one thing that’s worth looking at is Vincent’s meeting with the staff, which is unintentionally hilarious. Vincent clearly already had the real meeting prior to the taped one, so here he’s more or less “reenacting one”—the way all the staff members are vigorously nodding to his generic instructions is the dead giveaway. The meeting also leaves a couple of questions unanswered. First, there’s the decision in the “meeting” to send Jermareo Davidson down to the NBDL, yet he suited up for us that night and even played the next night in Atlanta—so what happened, did the Primoz trade nix that? Second, what’s with the mysterious Starbucks drink? It appears in various clips yet doesn’t always have a clear owner—so is it the same one, or is the whole staff hooked, or is one of them just serially addicted? I need to know these things.
As for the trade, Muhammed is slightly shorter than Brezec, costs about $3 million more (although he costs less than Anderson Varejao), and has more years on his contract, while Brezec’s was expiring this year (although it’s not like we’re on the hook with Theo Ratliff-levels of pain). Other than that, as far as I can see, it’s upgrades across the board, particularly in the areas of rebounds and simple ball handling. For the last two seasons, I swear, our guys almost couldn’t pass to Brezec without something bad happening. I’m convinced that his listed turnover rate this year, .81, was not even CLOSE to capturing the number of blunders he committed. I think it’s kind of like incomplete passes for quarterbacks in football, which almost always side with the receiver rather than the passer in terms of assigning the blame. Trust me, the number of times a pass in his direction resulted in a lost possession would have made for a deadly drinking game.
Herrmann gets a big fat “inconclusive” for his brief time here. Besides his hair, his biggest crime was playing in the one position in which we have depth to deal, particularly when you factor in Sean May and Morrison, who are untradeable right now with their injuries. If Walter had exhibited more down-and-dirty defensive prowess, he would have been more necessary. Instead (say the following line in a low, Carl Weathers growl:) he’s an asset, an expendable asset, and GM Rod Higgins used him to get the job done, got it?
The Bobcats’ subsequent two post-trade games were both dreadful affairs in which we were competitive in the first half, and then ignominiously clank-happy in the second. The first one was on ESPN, the second one took place in a desolate, quarantined-looking Phillips Arena in front of about 25 former WCW fans wearing Sting and Lex Lugar t-shirts. Dwight Howard was unstoppable in the first game, Joe Johnson was unstoppable in the second game, and Jason Richardson was highly stoppable in both games. In fact, I’m not even sure if these games rated high enough to be "for fans only"; they might have only been fun for future serial killers who have nothing better to do with themselves on Friday and Saturday night only (e.g., me).
Friday, December 14, 2007
Bobcats Thoughts, 12/14
The Bobcats are now 3-0 in games that aren’t televised. By myself, I probably represent 50% of Charlotte’s out-of-market fan base, so I think I speak for most of us when I tell you, League Pass, that we do NOT appreciate shelling out all that cash to see our beloved franchise, with its rich history, etc., only to tune in and find the game’s NOT on—especially when they’re playing a big-time powerhouse like the Clippers. It’s bad enough that I’m marooned up here in NYC, where every time I take my dog for a walk I’ve got to be careful that he doesn’t start chewing on a discarded syringe or licking a homeless guy’s urine bottle, but now I’ve got to fill up this column with lame, unfunny jokes instead of analysis because I CAN’T WATCH MY TEAM. And then, to top it off, it looks like they went out and played reasonably well! And considering they’ve only won 8 games total, I’ve missed practically half of them.
Anyway, after I flipped through the 401-412 channels, began drifting into the porn-on-demand region, and eventually accepted that the game wouldn’t be on, I realized that my only alternatives were the Knicks-Sonics game and E3: The Extra Testicle. Considering both were crude productions put on by people with limited abilities, it was kind of a tough choice. But I went with Knicks game, just to get a look at Kevin Durant. K-Smoove was definitely solid with 30 points, and yet…it was accomplished so incrementally—4 in the first quarter, 7 in the second, 10 in the third, 9 in the fourth, and he almost never scored more than twice in a row—that you never felt him taking over the game. Of course, his athleticism is there, and he’s willing to drive to the hoop despite having less bulk than a Kenyan marathoner, and all of this at 19—yikes, he could become the biggest one-man-wrecking crew since Gandhi 2.
On the opposite end of realized potential, I also fixated on Chris Wilcox. I can’t help but feel disappointed by him. It’s not that bigger things were expected from him coming out of Maryland 5 years ago, but…I guess that’s it, actually: bigger things weren’t expected of him. Forget about his PPG; if you look at him, he’s so naturally big and strong, that how could he only be averaging 5.5 rebounds for his career? And just .41 blocks a game?? I mean, the guy’s 6’-10”. I remember after Greg Oden announced he’d be missing the season, Bill Simmons had an excellent article about how some big guys “fill out” their size and weight better than others. Well, Wilcox is excellently proportioned, and yet you can tell he does nothing to improve upon it. And look at Hollinger’s scouting report on ESPN.com: “he has no post game at all and I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him attempt a real jump shot.” Well, to be blunt, that tells me he’s really not practicing. So what's he doing with himself? I guess just coasting on $6.5 million per. For the general, non-NBA-adoring public, there’s always going to be a disproportionate amount of coverage devoted to “thuggish” behavior, but for those of us who care about it, it’s guys like Wilcox who will frustrate us much more.
So, how’s this for a 180-degree turn: we go from no television coverage at all to prime-time national coverage on ESPN tonight. It’s okay, though, it’s Orlando, and as everyone knows from last year, we own these guys on prime-time TV.
PS—
Romance Tip of the Week: Any of you fellas with better halves out there want some guaranteed action? Take 'em to see Juno ASAP. It’s not all that funny, the dialogue is completely unrealistic (EVERYONE, including and especially little kids, zing each other nonstop with late-night talk show-caliber one-liners), and an annoying amateur acoustic song breaks out approximately every 2.5 seconds, but trust me: the women will love it. Not only is there heartwarming romance (the audience in my particular theatre seemed ready to fawn from the giddy-up; there were tons of "Aww"s) in the mood, but there are tons of gal-pal scenes and “you-go-girl” moments—highlighted by Juno’s step-mom going ballistic on an ultrasound technician for whom I felt kind of sorry—that will unleash the tiger in them. For just a 90-minute investment, you can’t miss…
Anyway, after I flipped through the 401-412 channels, began drifting into the porn-on-demand region, and eventually accepted that the game wouldn’t be on, I realized that my only alternatives were the Knicks-Sonics game and E3: The Extra Testicle. Considering both were crude productions put on by people with limited abilities, it was kind of a tough choice. But I went with Knicks game, just to get a look at Kevin Durant. K-Smoove was definitely solid with 30 points, and yet…it was accomplished so incrementally—4 in the first quarter, 7 in the second, 10 in the third, 9 in the fourth, and he almost never scored more than twice in a row—that you never felt him taking over the game. Of course, his athleticism is there, and he’s willing to drive to the hoop despite having less bulk than a Kenyan marathoner, and all of this at 19—yikes, he could become the biggest one-man-wrecking crew since Gandhi 2.
On the opposite end of realized potential, I also fixated on Chris Wilcox. I can’t help but feel disappointed by him. It’s not that bigger things were expected from him coming out of Maryland 5 years ago, but…I guess that’s it, actually: bigger things weren’t expected of him. Forget about his PPG; if you look at him, he’s so naturally big and strong, that how could he only be averaging 5.5 rebounds for his career? And just .41 blocks a game?? I mean, the guy’s 6’-10”. I remember after Greg Oden announced he’d be missing the season, Bill Simmons had an excellent article about how some big guys “fill out” their size and weight better than others. Well, Wilcox is excellently proportioned, and yet you can tell he does nothing to improve upon it. And look at Hollinger’s scouting report on ESPN.com: “he has no post game at all and I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him attempt a real jump shot.” Well, to be blunt, that tells me he’s really not practicing. So what's he doing with himself? I guess just coasting on $6.5 million per. For the general, non-NBA-adoring public, there’s always going to be a disproportionate amount of coverage devoted to “thuggish” behavior, but for those of us who care about it, it’s guys like Wilcox who will frustrate us much more.
So, how’s this for a 180-degree turn: we go from no television coverage at all to prime-time national coverage on ESPN tonight. It’s okay, though, it’s Orlando, and as everyone knows from last year, we own these guys on prime-time TV.
PS—
Romance Tip of the Week: Any of you fellas with better halves out there want some guaranteed action? Take 'em to see Juno ASAP. It’s not all that funny, the dialogue is completely unrealistic (EVERYONE, including and especially little kids, zing each other nonstop with late-night talk show-caliber one-liners), and an annoying amateur acoustic song breaks out approximately every 2.5 seconds, but trust me: the women will love it. Not only is there heartwarming romance (the audience in my particular theatre seemed ready to fawn from the giddy-up; there were tons of "Aww"s) in the mood, but there are tons of gal-pal scenes and “you-go-girl” moments—highlighted by Juno’s step-mom going ballistic on an ultrasound technician for whom I felt kind of sorry—that will unleash the tiger in them. For just a 90-minute investment, you can’t miss…
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
NFL Thoughts, Week 14
This year, Nate Burleson, Leon Washington, and Josh Cribbs have emerged as celebrity threats to run kickoffs and punts back for touchdowns at any moment. Meanwhile, Devin Hester has solidified himself as a bona fide rock star in Chicago for his highly specialized explosiveness. As a whole, there have already been 35 punts or kickoffs returned for touchdowns this year, compared to 24 for all of last season. Overall, this might be the sexiest year ever for kickoff and punt returns.
Do all these new flashy, special team stuntmen spell total anarchy for the NFL? Not really. Of the ten teams who’ve scored more than one touchdown on kickoff and/or punt returns, only 5 would be in the playoffs if the season ended today. Further, the non-playoff Bears lead the league with 5 TD returns, and the non-playoff Ravens are tied for second with 3. So even the best, most dangerous return teams haven’t given their organizations much of a competitive advantage. Similarly, of the 12 current playoff-bound teams, only 7 are among the league leaders in combined kickoff/punt return averages (Buffalo’s #1). So do special teams have any special significance? Or are they all style and no substance?
I went back to the 2002-2003 season and examined the past 5 years’ worth of special teams data. Focusing on what I thought to the most significant stats for kickoff and punt returns, I selected six of them. Four were offensive: average kickoff return yards, total kickoff returns for touchdowns, average punt return yards, and total punt returns for touchdowns. Subsequently, two of them were defensive: the average net yardage allowed on punt returns (meaning the average of the punt itself minus the amount returned by the opposing team), and the percentage of punts that pin the opposing team inside their own 20-yard line.
What I found is that of the twelve playoff teams each year, only 5 of them on average were among the top-12 in kickoff return yards. Only 4.4 of them on average were among the top-12 in punt return yardage. The net-return yardage allowed stats were even LESS indicative of a team’s success, as only 4.2 playoff teams on average were among the top-12. And the touchdown return numbers seemed the least significant of all: there were usually about 20 teams each year who didn’t return a single punt or kickoff back for a touchdown the entire season, and anywhere from 6-to-9 of those teams were playoff participants. So while brilliant kickoff and punting performances might provide dramatic plot twists to individual games, their ability to enhance a team’s playoff chances over the entire season are marginal at best.
The one stat that did seem to matter—albeit slightly—was that %-inside-the-20 one, in which 5.2 of the playoff teams on average were in the annual top-12. More telling was the fact that in two of the five years, 2 of the top 3 teams in that category were playoff teams. And one season, 2004-2005, the top-3 teams in %-inside-the-20 were ALL playoff teams.
These results are somewhat intuitive. Good teams are going to have fewer kickoff return opportunities in general, because the opposing teams won’t be scoring field goals and touchdowns against them as much. And I would have to assume that most kicks end in simple touchbacks, although I could find the actual percentage anywhere. Moreover, good teams will probably be receiving more onsides-kicks from desperate teams who they are leading late in games, which again would damper their return yard averages. And when they DO receive regular kickoffs and punts, good teams will normally be ahead on the scoreboard, and therefore less likely to try and “make something happen,” opting instead to just take a touchback or a fair catch.
As for net punt yardage allowed, bad teams will more often than not be punting from deep inside their own territory, and therefore their punters can blast the ball as hard and far away as possible, which will increase the likelihood of a high net yardage. Good teams, on the other hand, will usually be punting from advantageous field position, resulting in lower net yardage and a higher percentage of punts that end up inside the opposition’s 20-yard line. Thus, these stats are all circumstantially explicable, and do not seem to indicate that a new generation of return superheroes can carry their teams to glory.
So the conclusion is that crack kickoff and punt units have no real correlation with their team’s overall success. And yet…to be thorough, I should probably check out overall offensive and defensive statistics and examine their correlations. What if they’re equally insignificant? What if, say, only about half the playoff teams each year are among the best in yards/game or yards allowed/game? Hmm. Or what about teams that have really good special team stats, but are otherwise mediocre-to-poor offensively and defensively? Then you could make the case that special teams are extremely significant, because there’d be no other explanation. That would probably be a better way to approach this question. Or maybe I should just not do anything and enjoy the games. After all, as my statistics professor liked to say, the numbers will tell you anything if you torture them long enough.
Offensive Player of the Week: Tom Brady, Patriots. 32-46 for 399 yards, 4 TDs, and 0 picks, all against the #1 rated defense in the league. Plus he dished out some Stone Cold Steve Austin-style trash-talking to Anthony Smith like he just gave him a stunner. The ratings for this week’s game against the Jets should be huge, and not without an element of bloodlust, because it’s going to go down like a public hanging.
Defensive Player of the Week: Gary Brackett, Colts. 9 tackles and 2 interceptions, one for 49-yards. Like most Jersey guys, Brackett’s a 5-11, 230 lb.-schlubby dude who went to Rutgers. Unlike most Jersey guys, he’s got 102 tackles on the season and is a key ingredient of the reigning world champions’ ferocious defense.
Do all these new flashy, special team stuntmen spell total anarchy for the NFL? Not really. Of the ten teams who’ve scored more than one touchdown on kickoff and/or punt returns, only 5 would be in the playoffs if the season ended today. Further, the non-playoff Bears lead the league with 5 TD returns, and the non-playoff Ravens are tied for second with 3. So even the best, most dangerous return teams haven’t given their organizations much of a competitive advantage. Similarly, of the 12 current playoff-bound teams, only 7 are among the league leaders in combined kickoff/punt return averages (Buffalo’s #1). So do special teams have any special significance? Or are they all style and no substance?
I went back to the 2002-2003 season and examined the past 5 years’ worth of special teams data. Focusing on what I thought to the most significant stats for kickoff and punt returns, I selected six of them. Four were offensive: average kickoff return yards, total kickoff returns for touchdowns, average punt return yards, and total punt returns for touchdowns. Subsequently, two of them were defensive: the average net yardage allowed on punt returns (meaning the average of the punt itself minus the amount returned by the opposing team), and the percentage of punts that pin the opposing team inside their own 20-yard line.
What I found is that of the twelve playoff teams each year, only 5 of them on average were among the top-12 in kickoff return yards. Only 4.4 of them on average were among the top-12 in punt return yardage. The net-return yardage allowed stats were even LESS indicative of a team’s success, as only 4.2 playoff teams on average were among the top-12. And the touchdown return numbers seemed the least significant of all: there were usually about 20 teams each year who didn’t return a single punt or kickoff back for a touchdown the entire season, and anywhere from 6-to-9 of those teams were playoff participants. So while brilliant kickoff and punting performances might provide dramatic plot twists to individual games, their ability to enhance a team’s playoff chances over the entire season are marginal at best.
The one stat that did seem to matter—albeit slightly—was that %-inside-the-20 one, in which 5.2 of the playoff teams on average were in the annual top-12. More telling was the fact that in two of the five years, 2 of the top 3 teams in that category were playoff teams. And one season, 2004-2005, the top-3 teams in %-inside-the-20 were ALL playoff teams.
These results are somewhat intuitive. Good teams are going to have fewer kickoff return opportunities in general, because the opposing teams won’t be scoring field goals and touchdowns against them as much. And I would have to assume that most kicks end in simple touchbacks, although I could find the actual percentage anywhere. Moreover, good teams will probably be receiving more onsides-kicks from desperate teams who they are leading late in games, which again would damper their return yard averages. And when they DO receive regular kickoffs and punts, good teams will normally be ahead on the scoreboard, and therefore less likely to try and “make something happen,” opting instead to just take a touchback or a fair catch.
As for net punt yardage allowed, bad teams will more often than not be punting from deep inside their own territory, and therefore their punters can blast the ball as hard and far away as possible, which will increase the likelihood of a high net yardage. Good teams, on the other hand, will usually be punting from advantageous field position, resulting in lower net yardage and a higher percentage of punts that end up inside the opposition’s 20-yard line. Thus, these stats are all circumstantially explicable, and do not seem to indicate that a new generation of return superheroes can carry their teams to glory.
So the conclusion is that crack kickoff and punt units have no real correlation with their team’s overall success. And yet…to be thorough, I should probably check out overall offensive and defensive statistics and examine their correlations. What if they’re equally insignificant? What if, say, only about half the playoff teams each year are among the best in yards/game or yards allowed/game? Hmm. Or what about teams that have really good special team stats, but are otherwise mediocre-to-poor offensively and defensively? Then you could make the case that special teams are extremely significant, because there’d be no other explanation. That would probably be a better way to approach this question. Or maybe I should just not do anything and enjoy the games. After all, as my statistics professor liked to say, the numbers will tell you anything if you torture them long enough.
Offensive Player of the Week: Tom Brady, Patriots. 32-46 for 399 yards, 4 TDs, and 0 picks, all against the #1 rated defense in the league. Plus he dished out some Stone Cold Steve Austin-style trash-talking to Anthony Smith like he just gave him a stunner. The ratings for this week’s game against the Jets should be huge, and not without an element of bloodlust, because it’s going to go down like a public hanging.
Defensive Player of the Week: Gary Brackett, Colts. 9 tackles and 2 interceptions, one for 49-yards. Like most Jersey guys, Brackett’s a 5-11, 230 lb.-schlubby dude who went to Rutgers. Unlike most Jersey guys, he’s got 102 tackles on the season and is a key ingredient of the reigning world champions’ ferocious defense.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Bobcats Thoughts, 12/10
It’s been 7 hours and 15 days…since you took your buzzer-beater, Ray Allen—nothing compares 2 U. Ever since Walter Ray ripped our collective heart out and showed it to us before we died, we’ve been performing worse than a mortgage-backed security; we ought to change our names to the "Charlotte Structured Investment Vehicles." Thus I was as excited about Saturday’s game with Cleveland as I normally am about cleaning my cat’s litter box. There just wasn’t anything to look forward to in this one, not even watching LeBron plow through us, because he wasn’t suiting up. The other thing about LeBron is he offers a built-in excuse for losing—without him in there, it’d be a modified version of the Toronto game, and the only thing to do would be to just accept that we really, really suck.
For a while, it looked like Larry Hughes would be more than happy to remove that embarrassment, as he returned to the lineup, looked buffer than Brad Pitt in Troy, and played like a dynamo. Hughes had been out for so long that no one even remembers what it was that he injured in the first place, including Hughes. Yet Larry Hughes ran through us like Larry Davis, getting 22 points in 26 minutes. The Cavs also proved that they do have a couple other guys who can play, including guards Daniel Gibson (15 points), who made a name for himself against Detroit in last year’s playoffs (unfortunately, that name ended up being “Boobie”), and Shannon Brown (15 points). LeBron was there in spirit as well, although—sadly—not in turtleneck. Fortunately, he did rock a fabulous, multicolored vest straight off the 1990 In Living Color set as he cheered his teammates from the sidelines.
Still, this was yet another terrible game between two bad teams. There were 47 turnovers, 79 free throws, and a horrifying finish that nearly defies description. The good news is that Raymond Felton scored 8 points in the final 16 seconds to break our 7-game losing streak. The bad news is that the 8 points were all foul shots, meaning those 16 seconds of game time took approximately 2-and-a-half hours of REAL time to elapse and caused anyone who actually sat through it all to contemplate grabbing a knife and stabbing themselves repeatedly, Exorcist-style. Raymond showed some true grit for this performance, but he would never have had to do it if not for two monumentally, fantastically, spectacularly stupid fouls by Jason Richardson and Gerald Wallace, both of which stopped the clock and allowed the Cavs to get close enough to continue fouling. A sort of combination miniature golf/free-throw game ensued, in which both teams walked back and forth across the court, took foul shots, and called lots of timeouts. I’m still floored by the sheer atrociousness of the experience. It was like watching a fight to the death between Sasha Vuyacic and Dan Dickau, with the winner advancing to face Luke Ridnour.
Besides Felton’s clutch play, Gerald Wallace had a brilliant night—other than that foul on Gibson…on a 3-pointer…(stab-stab-stab). Crash notched 22 points, 7 rebounds, 5 blocks (including a game-saver on a wide-open, waltzing-in-for-an-easy-layup Zydrunas Ilgauskus), and 4 steals. Wallace was so good, at times he seemed like the only one moving out there, like he was Hiro Nakamura and he had frozen time and space to swipe passes.
The thing that confused me was Coach Mike Brown’s decision to limit Drew Gooden to just 22 minutes. He does know how weak we are in the front court, right? Why not beef up with his two big power forwards? Especially since at this point, our options down low are pretty much limited to a) Emeka Okafor, and b) trying to angle passes off Primoz Brezec’s hands in such a way that after he inevitably drops them, they either ricochet to a teammate and/or into the basket—it’s become like a carnival game.
Anyway, I think the time we had to savor the victory was less than those last 16 seconds, because it was immediately onto Detroit for a Sunday mid-afternoon showdown with the Pistons. This one had nothing unexpected about it, as Detroit jumped out to a 22-10 lead, repeatedly doubled us up in scoring, and pounded us against the wall like Sunny Corleone on a bridesmaid—no alarms and no surprises…
As expected, the Back-to-Back Games Excuse Meter was cranked up to 10 for this 104-85 beatdown, although once again I’d point out that we’ve only played 5 games in 9 days. There’s also the fact that the vast majority of the previous night was spent standing around and watching Raymond Felton win a glorified game of HORSE. Nonetheless, Rip Hamilton, Chauncey Billups, Tayshaun Prince and the rest of the Bad Boys dribbled circles around us, frequently spinning Jeff McInnis around like a dredlocked sprinkler.
Despite the success we had with feeding Okafor down low the night before, that new approach apparently went out the window last night, as Mek had fewer field goal attempts (11) than Derek Anderson. Meanwhile, Jared Dudley’s almost completely vanished: he went from double-double to not scoring at all to not playing at all, although he did get 11 minutes last night. Baffling as that one was, the other no-show was even more mysterious: just 3 points for Wallace!? As a whole, we kept the turnovers down (12), but that’s mostly because we barely had the ball in the first place.
I must confess that with about 6 minutes to go and the deficit in the 20’s, I flipped over to the Colts-Ravens game. Watching a garbage-time squad of Jeff McInnis, Othella Harrington, and Derek Anderson on the court wouldn’t have been all that enticing in '98, let alone '08.
For a while, it looked like Larry Hughes would be more than happy to remove that embarrassment, as he returned to the lineup, looked buffer than Brad Pitt in Troy, and played like a dynamo. Hughes had been out for so long that no one even remembers what it was that he injured in the first place, including Hughes. Yet Larry Hughes ran through us like Larry Davis, getting 22 points in 26 minutes. The Cavs also proved that they do have a couple other guys who can play, including guards Daniel Gibson (15 points), who made a name for himself against Detroit in last year’s playoffs (unfortunately, that name ended up being “Boobie”), and Shannon Brown (15 points). LeBron was there in spirit as well, although—sadly—not in turtleneck. Fortunately, he did rock a fabulous, multicolored vest straight off the 1990 In Living Color set as he cheered his teammates from the sidelines.
Still, this was yet another terrible game between two bad teams. There were 47 turnovers, 79 free throws, and a horrifying finish that nearly defies description. The good news is that Raymond Felton scored 8 points in the final 16 seconds to break our 7-game losing streak. The bad news is that the 8 points were all foul shots, meaning those 16 seconds of game time took approximately 2-and-a-half hours of REAL time to elapse and caused anyone who actually sat through it all to contemplate grabbing a knife and stabbing themselves repeatedly, Exorcist-style. Raymond showed some true grit for this performance, but he would never have had to do it if not for two monumentally, fantastically, spectacularly stupid fouls by Jason Richardson and Gerald Wallace, both of which stopped the clock and allowed the Cavs to get close enough to continue fouling. A sort of combination miniature golf/free-throw game ensued, in which both teams walked back and forth across the court, took foul shots, and called lots of timeouts. I’m still floored by the sheer atrociousness of the experience. It was like watching a fight to the death between Sasha Vuyacic and Dan Dickau, with the winner advancing to face Luke Ridnour.
Besides Felton’s clutch play, Gerald Wallace had a brilliant night—other than that foul on Gibson…on a 3-pointer…(stab-stab-stab). Crash notched 22 points, 7 rebounds, 5 blocks (including a game-saver on a wide-open, waltzing-in-for-an-easy-layup Zydrunas Ilgauskus), and 4 steals. Wallace was so good, at times he seemed like the only one moving out there, like he was Hiro Nakamura and he had frozen time and space to swipe passes.
The thing that confused me was Coach Mike Brown’s decision to limit Drew Gooden to just 22 minutes. He does know how weak we are in the front court, right? Why not beef up with his two big power forwards? Especially since at this point, our options down low are pretty much limited to a) Emeka Okafor, and b) trying to angle passes off Primoz Brezec’s hands in such a way that after he inevitably drops them, they either ricochet to a teammate and/or into the basket—it’s become like a carnival game.
Anyway, I think the time we had to savor the victory was less than those last 16 seconds, because it was immediately onto Detroit for a Sunday mid-afternoon showdown with the Pistons. This one had nothing unexpected about it, as Detroit jumped out to a 22-10 lead, repeatedly doubled us up in scoring, and pounded us against the wall like Sunny Corleone on a bridesmaid—no alarms and no surprises…
As expected, the Back-to-Back Games Excuse Meter was cranked up to 10 for this 104-85 beatdown, although once again I’d point out that we’ve only played 5 games in 9 days. There’s also the fact that the vast majority of the previous night was spent standing around and watching Raymond Felton win a glorified game of HORSE. Nonetheless, Rip Hamilton, Chauncey Billups, Tayshaun Prince and the rest of the Bad Boys dribbled circles around us, frequently spinning Jeff McInnis around like a dredlocked sprinkler.
Despite the success we had with feeding Okafor down low the night before, that new approach apparently went out the window last night, as Mek had fewer field goal attempts (11) than Derek Anderson. Meanwhile, Jared Dudley’s almost completely vanished: he went from double-double to not scoring at all to not playing at all, although he did get 11 minutes last night. Baffling as that one was, the other no-show was even more mysterious: just 3 points for Wallace!? As a whole, we kept the turnovers down (12), but that’s mostly because we barely had the ball in the first place.
I must confess that with about 6 minutes to go and the deficit in the 20’s, I flipped over to the Colts-Ravens game. Watching a garbage-time squad of Jeff McInnis, Othella Harrington, and Derek Anderson on the court wouldn’t have been all that enticing in '98, let alone '08.
Friday, December 07, 2007
Bobcats Thoughts, 12/7
This latest week has been like the HBO series Tell Me You Love Me: mostly terrible, but also occasionally interesting. On Monday the Bobcats took on a Toronto team that lacked Chris Bosh, TJ Ford, Andrea Bargnani, and Jorge Garbajosa. Their injuries forced Coach Sam Mitchell to throw out a starting five of Jamario Moon, Joey Graham, Rasho Nesterovic, Anthony Parker, and Jose Calderon, and against such a devastating arsenal, the Bobcats didn’t stand a chance. It was a debacle right from the tip, as we found ourselves down 16-4 in less time than it takes for Primoz Brezec to mishandle a pass. Speaking of which, in an inspired move, Coach Vincent sat the Big P and played Jared Dudley instead. And Dudley responded; in fact, early on, he was the only one producing at all, causing commentator Henry Williams to wonder aloud—somewhat hilariously—“Where would the Bobcats be right now without Dudley?” Good question, Henry! 18-4, 20-4? You’re right, it could’ve been bad.
However, Coach Vincent, after watching us blow up on takeoff, apparently decided that the one thing this fire lacked was some more grease, and decided to sub in Jeff McInnis and Primoz. And then things really got ugly, with the Toronto B-listers putting up numbers like sudoku. Carlos Delfino was deadly, hitting 4-of-6 3’s for 17 points. Kris Humphries can’t even spell his first name correctly, yet he scored 17 and grabbed 6 boards, plus hit 7-of-8 free throws. The most terrifying of all was Calderon, who was slinging assists like crack and driving to the hoop with such ferocity that the Raptors actually quit even bothering to set picks after awhile. On one play Calderon blasted past McInnis so fast it straightened his dreadlocks; I actually thought Jeff was going to go spin out in a jet-wash.
Meanwhile, the Bobcats shot with about as much accuracy as a villain on TJ Hooker. Raymond Felton went 0-of-8 from the field. Mr. Third Quarter, Jason Richardson, went 3-of-17. Meanwhile, I’m still trying to figure out what’s more disturbing: the fact that Gerald Wallace went just 4-of-13 or that he only took 13 shots in 40 minutes. God help us, McInnis led the team with 5 assists. Dudley was arguably the best player, shooting 8-of-14 for 16 points and grabbing 10 boards and 3 steals--it was the one shining diamond in this pile of feces. Maybe Dudley needs to play much, much more, and it took an event this horrible and calamitous to bring forth his talent and ability, just as it took the Spanish Civil War to produce Guernica.
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In the interlude between Monday’s Catastrophe in Toronto and Wednesday’s Homecoming from Hell against Chicago, we managed to sign but not get the services of disgruntled Clevelander Anderson Varejao. We sure could have used the big lug. Jared Dudley’s a great kid, but replacing Brezec with him is like replacing gasoline with corn-based ethanol: it’s a highly imperfect substitution. Varejao has got 3 inches on Dudley (in height, that is) and about 3x the annoyance capabilities. Playing against him automatically puts teams in a putting-together-a-piece-of-IKEA-furniture mood, and the irritation factor alone is probably worth a few victories. But forget it, he’s gone, and I hope the marketing department didn’t put too much money down on the “Varejao Wig Night” promotions.
As for the PF/C front, I’m sure something will get done. As GM Rod Higgins put it in one of his always highly-informative quotes, “We’ll continue to look for possibilities to hire another quality player. That’s our job.” Ooookay. Apparently his job doesn’t include realizing the blindingly obvious in any sort of timely fashion, which is that Primoz Brezec is quite possibly the worst center in the NBA and the NBDL and probably several South American leagues, and Higgins probably would have gotten a more quality player if he’d conducted one of those Kevin Bacon, “Air Up There”-style scouting trips to Chad or something during the offseason. Seriously, this hasn’t been a closely kept secret. “Primoz Lacks Talent” is not exactly “Iran Lacks Nuclear Capabilities” in terms of stunning headlines. So whatever. Now that the staff has hopefully recovered from the shock, go get 'em, Rob, you’re just in the nick of time. And if you ever get tired of this gig, I’m sure FEMA’s got some openings for you.
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As for the Wednesday nighter: Johnny “Red” Kerr for the second time in a week! Joy to the world! Christmas has come early this year! Fortunately of my sake, the Kerr Effect was somewhat muted by a 3rd commentator in the Bulls booth, the increasingly annoyed Stacy King. First of all, King sounded like he was coming in on a walkie-talkie, so one of the techs over at WGN needs to look into that. Second, King is such a hoot to listen to that I actually wouldn’t mind tuning into future Bulls broadcasts. This guy gets legitimately angry during the broadcasts, and with the Bulls trailing most of the way against us, I honestly was waiting to hear the sound of something breaking and the screen suddenly switching over to a test pattern. The height of his fury came toward the end of the 3rd quarter, when Walter Herrmann hit the second or third of his "Dr. J"-style finger rolls, after which King fumed—without any trace of irony—“If I see that move one more time, I’m GOING TO SCREAM.”
Sadly, we’ll never know if King would have kept his word, because shortly thereafter the Bobcats collapsed and blew an 11-point lead they held as late as the end of the third quarter. This was pretty upsetting, because—and this isn’t exactly news, except possibly to Rod Higgins—the Bulls are really, really bad this year. And in this one they played, really, really bad. They missed a stupefying number of easy shots, turned the ball over 20 times, looked thoroughly disinterested for most of the game, and were pretty much asking to be put away.
Unfortunately, this is a Bobcats team that couldn’t defecate in a toilet if you held the seat up for them. We were outscored 38-22 in the fourth quarter and mainly began taking our anger out on the poor, innocent 3-point line, hitting just 1-of-6 in the fourth (and 6-of-26 overall). Considering we’re the 4th-worst shooting team in the league, I have no idea what was behind all the long-distance shenanigans, although part of it was because Emeka Okafor was limited by foul trouble. The Dudley-as-starter experiment also apparently went through a sophomore slump, as he went 0-of-6 from the field. The team also missed ten of its fourteen free-throws, including some critical ones down the stretch when we still had a chance.
It was a pretty terrible night, capped off by the sting of watching the Bulls celebrate at the end like they just beat trial. Scott Skiles was reduced to the role of Michael Keaton in Herbie: Fully Loaded, cheering along like a pathetic dad. We’re definitely in a serious malaise right now, and we can only hope there are no reports of Sam Vincent getting attacked by a rabbit.
However, Coach Vincent, after watching us blow up on takeoff, apparently decided that the one thing this fire lacked was some more grease, and decided to sub in Jeff McInnis and Primoz. And then things really got ugly, with the Toronto B-listers putting up numbers like sudoku. Carlos Delfino was deadly, hitting 4-of-6 3’s for 17 points. Kris Humphries can’t even spell his first name correctly, yet he scored 17 and grabbed 6 boards, plus hit 7-of-8 free throws. The most terrifying of all was Calderon, who was slinging assists like crack and driving to the hoop with such ferocity that the Raptors actually quit even bothering to set picks after awhile. On one play Calderon blasted past McInnis so fast it straightened his dreadlocks; I actually thought Jeff was going to go spin out in a jet-wash.
Meanwhile, the Bobcats shot with about as much accuracy as a villain on TJ Hooker. Raymond Felton went 0-of-8 from the field. Mr. Third Quarter, Jason Richardson, went 3-of-17. Meanwhile, I’m still trying to figure out what’s more disturbing: the fact that Gerald Wallace went just 4-of-13 or that he only took 13 shots in 40 minutes. God help us, McInnis led the team with 5 assists. Dudley was arguably the best player, shooting 8-of-14 for 16 points and grabbing 10 boards and 3 steals--it was the one shining diamond in this pile of feces. Maybe Dudley needs to play much, much more, and it took an event this horrible and calamitous to bring forth his talent and ability, just as it took the Spanish Civil War to produce Guernica.
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In the interlude between Monday’s Catastrophe in Toronto and Wednesday’s Homecoming from Hell against Chicago, we managed to sign but not get the services of disgruntled Clevelander Anderson Varejao. We sure could have used the big lug. Jared Dudley’s a great kid, but replacing Brezec with him is like replacing gasoline with corn-based ethanol: it’s a highly imperfect substitution. Varejao has got 3 inches on Dudley (in height, that is) and about 3x the annoyance capabilities. Playing against him automatically puts teams in a putting-together-a-piece-of-IKEA-furniture mood, and the irritation factor alone is probably worth a few victories. But forget it, he’s gone, and I hope the marketing department didn’t put too much money down on the “Varejao Wig Night” promotions.
As for the PF/C front, I’m sure something will get done. As GM Rod Higgins put it in one of his always highly-informative quotes, “We’ll continue to look for possibilities to hire another quality player. That’s our job.” Ooookay. Apparently his job doesn’t include realizing the blindingly obvious in any sort of timely fashion, which is that Primoz Brezec is quite possibly the worst center in the NBA and the NBDL and probably several South American leagues, and Higgins probably would have gotten a more quality player if he’d conducted one of those Kevin Bacon, “Air Up There”-style scouting trips to Chad or something during the offseason. Seriously, this hasn’t been a closely kept secret. “Primoz Lacks Talent” is not exactly “Iran Lacks Nuclear Capabilities” in terms of stunning headlines. So whatever. Now that the staff has hopefully recovered from the shock, go get 'em, Rob, you’re just in the nick of time. And if you ever get tired of this gig, I’m sure FEMA’s got some openings for you.
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As for the Wednesday nighter: Johnny “Red” Kerr for the second time in a week! Joy to the world! Christmas has come early this year! Fortunately of my sake, the Kerr Effect was somewhat muted by a 3rd commentator in the Bulls booth, the increasingly annoyed Stacy King. First of all, King sounded like he was coming in on a walkie-talkie, so one of the techs over at WGN needs to look into that. Second, King is such a hoot to listen to that I actually wouldn’t mind tuning into future Bulls broadcasts. This guy gets legitimately angry during the broadcasts, and with the Bulls trailing most of the way against us, I honestly was waiting to hear the sound of something breaking and the screen suddenly switching over to a test pattern. The height of his fury came toward the end of the 3rd quarter, when Walter Herrmann hit the second or third of his "Dr. J"-style finger rolls, after which King fumed—without any trace of irony—“If I see that move one more time, I’m GOING TO SCREAM.”
Sadly, we’ll never know if King would have kept his word, because shortly thereafter the Bobcats collapsed and blew an 11-point lead they held as late as the end of the third quarter. This was pretty upsetting, because—and this isn’t exactly news, except possibly to Rod Higgins—the Bulls are really, really bad this year. And in this one they played, really, really bad. They missed a stupefying number of easy shots, turned the ball over 20 times, looked thoroughly disinterested for most of the game, and were pretty much asking to be put away.
Unfortunately, this is a Bobcats team that couldn’t defecate in a toilet if you held the seat up for them. We were outscored 38-22 in the fourth quarter and mainly began taking our anger out on the poor, innocent 3-point line, hitting just 1-of-6 in the fourth (and 6-of-26 overall). Considering we’re the 4th-worst shooting team in the league, I have no idea what was behind all the long-distance shenanigans, although part of it was because Emeka Okafor was limited by foul trouble. The Dudley-as-starter experiment also apparently went through a sophomore slump, as he went 0-of-6 from the field. The team also missed ten of its fourteen free-throws, including some critical ones down the stretch when we still had a chance.
It was a pretty terrible night, capped off by the sting of watching the Bulls celebrate at the end like they just beat trial. Scott Skiles was reduced to the role of Michael Keaton in Herbie: Fully Loaded, cheering along like a pathetic dad. We’re definitely in a serious malaise right now, and we can only hope there are no reports of Sam Vincent getting attacked by a rabbit.
Monday, December 03, 2007
Bobcats Thoughts, 12/03
If I get sent to hell, the best way to punish me would be to have Red Kerr provide the color commentary of my descent, wherein he’d probably complain the whole time that I haven’t been stuck with enough pitchforks. This would be a fitting fate for me, because no matter how painful losing to the Bulls is, Kerr makes it worse. In fact, Kerr makes everything worse; there’s nothing Kerr can’t worsen by simply opening his mouth—it’s almost impressive, really. Kerr could exacerbate a nuclear holocaust if he were within earshot. So basically, Saturday night’s loss to Chicago wasn’t pleasant on a number of levels, both visually and sonically. For the game itself, we lost in the kind of way that makes me feel like we’ll never win again. Meanwhile, Kerr provided the soundtrack, and--when he wasn't complaining about the refs--over-praised the crappy Bulls like they’re a bunch of 4-year-olds who just made their first finger-painting.
Offensively, Ben Gordon and Luol Deng dug our graves, while Ben Wallace cleaned up on the boards. Deng had 15 of his 29 points in the first quarter, and Gordon had 15 of his 34 points in the 3rd quarter. Even though we were down by just 1 at halftime, Gordon hit three consecutive 3-pointers in the third to officially announce he was In The Zone, and the rout was on. “That's a big part of my game,” Gordon said afterward. “My hands up, my hands up, they want me with my hands up,” he added, in a soft, quasi-reggae-style voice, “I’m your…shooter, shooter, shooter!” Wallace had 10 points and 19 boards, actually looking—for one of the last times in his career, I'm guessing—relevant. As a whole, Chicago shot 54% and made 17-of-19 free throws (although if it were up to Kerr, it would have been 83-of-85).
With Tyrus Thomas flying around like a halftime trampoline act, the Bulls temporarily looked like they weren’t seriously deficient in the interior. And the reason for this is we’re perhaps the only team that’s weaker than Chicago in the frontcourt. Emeka Okafor was solid as usual (21-9-3 blocks), but other than that, we’d have gotten more production from a 7-foot inflatable doll than the rest of the crew—especially with Ryan Hollins still reassembling his arm from that run-in with Dwight Howard. Chicago doubled us up in rebounds (48-24) and blocked 7 shots. I remember last year the local broadcasts had a regular “Points in the Paint” graphic sponsored by Lowes, and it became something of a running joke for me, because we were always getting killed in that category. In fact, I’m not sure you could pick a worse stat to sponsor, unless it was # of times GM Michael Jordan actually showed up to our games. Things haven’t changed this year either.
Jason Richardson threw us his twice-monthly bone, getting 22 points and showing some sporadically impressive athleticism. He’s almost like an absent father who neglects his kids, occasionally feels guilty about it, and randomly shows up with a cool present to try and make amends before disappearing again. Wow, thanks, J-Rich, a brand new 22 points on 50% 3-point shooting, cool! See you in a few weeks...This was also easily Raymond Felton’s worst showing: 5 points and 2 assists. Thank goodness we’ve got all that depth at point guard—almost as much as at center.
Offensively, Ben Gordon and Luol Deng dug our graves, while Ben Wallace cleaned up on the boards. Deng had 15 of his 29 points in the first quarter, and Gordon had 15 of his 34 points in the 3rd quarter. Even though we were down by just 1 at halftime, Gordon hit three consecutive 3-pointers in the third to officially announce he was In The Zone, and the rout was on. “That's a big part of my game,” Gordon said afterward. “My hands up, my hands up, they want me with my hands up,” he added, in a soft, quasi-reggae-style voice, “I’m your…shooter, shooter, shooter!” Wallace had 10 points and 19 boards, actually looking—for one of the last times in his career, I'm guessing—relevant. As a whole, Chicago shot 54% and made 17-of-19 free throws (although if it were up to Kerr, it would have been 83-of-85).
With Tyrus Thomas flying around like a halftime trampoline act, the Bulls temporarily looked like they weren’t seriously deficient in the interior. And the reason for this is we’re perhaps the only team that’s weaker than Chicago in the frontcourt. Emeka Okafor was solid as usual (21-9-3 blocks), but other than that, we’d have gotten more production from a 7-foot inflatable doll than the rest of the crew—especially with Ryan Hollins still reassembling his arm from that run-in with Dwight Howard. Chicago doubled us up in rebounds (48-24) and blocked 7 shots. I remember last year the local broadcasts had a regular “Points in the Paint” graphic sponsored by Lowes, and it became something of a running joke for me, because we were always getting killed in that category. In fact, I’m not sure you could pick a worse stat to sponsor, unless it was # of times GM Michael Jordan actually showed up to our games. Things haven’t changed this year either.
Jason Richardson threw us his twice-monthly bone, getting 22 points and showing some sporadically impressive athleticism. He’s almost like an absent father who neglects his kids, occasionally feels guilty about it, and randomly shows up with a cool present to try and make amends before disappearing again. Wow, thanks, J-Rich, a brand new 22 points on 50% 3-point shooting, cool! See you in a few weeks...This was also easily Raymond Felton’s worst showing: 5 points and 2 assists. Thank goodness we’ve got all that depth at point guard—almost as much as at center.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Bobcats Thoughts, 11/29
When we last saw Miami, they shot 38% and had Pat Riley contemplating suiting up for the first time in 31 years. That was two weeks and 20 percentage points ago. On Tuesday they had Dwyane Wade back in the lineup and their performance ratings rose faster than Mike Huckabee’s. Never mind that Wade only played 26 minutes for them, just as voters don’t seem to mind that Huckabee thinks the Earth is only 6,000 years old: D-Wade transforms his team from the Miami Clank Machine to the Hot Hot Heat. D-Wade is to the Heat what Accutane is to Jessica Simpson: he completely changes the complexion.
You know what I’m starting to think is the true definition of a superstar? The ability to bomb a long-distance 3-pointer with no time left on the shot clock. Think about it: all the great ones do it—LeBron, Kobe, Gilbert, Wade. You pin them down outside the arc, isolate them with a double-team, seal off all of their passing options, manage to bleed the 24-second clock down to 3-2-1, and what do they do? Chuck up a what-the-eff trey that...goes right in. Only a select few can do it, and the effects can be traumatizing. Wade did it in the first quarter last night, and right then and there, I knew the “Heat Suck” party was over. Someone could have dumped pig’s blood on Gerald Wallace while he was shooting a free throw and I wouldn’t have been more demoralized.
Much has been made of Riles’ decision to bench Ricky Davis and Jason Williams to start the game, but Wade is the straw that snorts this team’s coke. He wasn’t perfect, he only scored 13 points, and he launched enough bad passes into the first row to make Carlos Arroyo blush. But with him in the lineup, the Heat regained their swagger and drive. Miami shot 58%, converted 19 Charlotte turnovers into 28 points, and stuck the dagger in when they had the chance by going on a 15-0 run that spanned the 3rd and 4th quarters. For his part, Davis was sensational, getting 23 points on 9-14 shooting and 3 steals. Meanwhile, rookie Daequan Cook became Daequan the Chef, serving up a fine cuisine of 19 points and a perfect 9-9 from the foul line.
For the Bobcats, it was the same old recurring themes: inconsistent play from the stars (Crash had 4 turnovers and only 6 points after the 1st quarter, Emeka Okafor had just 7 points and 6 boards, and Richardson had just 10 points, or 1 point for every $1.11 million he’s owed this year), a non-presence at the center spot (although Jermareo Davis (8 points) is making a strong case for 2nd Best Rookie Named “Jermareo” (after Toronto’s Moon)), and an over-reliance on outside shooting (we’re the 6th-worst shooting team in the lead because we can’t penetrate). Also, Raymond Felton’s got to be leading the league in the Most-Drives-That-End-Up-With-The-Ball-Spinning-Agonizingly-Long-On-The-Rim-Before-Rolling-Off-And-No-Fouls-Called-Despite-Obvious-Contact category.
And not to beat a dead horse, but Jeff McInnis’s season-to-date numbers? 23 MPG, 4.2 PPG, 4.1 APG, and the 4th-worst PG efficiency in the league. Smush Parker is after him, and he was a DNP on Tuesday; McInnis played 21 minutes…I’m starting to envy other team’s point guard situations the way I imagine rappers envy each other’s G-4’s. I’m even jealous of Portland, for cripes’ sake. When we played them a few weeks ago, I was like, “Wow, Steve Blake, Jarret Jack, and Sergio Rodriguez—imagine if we had them.”
You know what I’m starting to think is the true definition of a superstar? The ability to bomb a long-distance 3-pointer with no time left on the shot clock. Think about it: all the great ones do it—LeBron, Kobe, Gilbert, Wade. You pin them down outside the arc, isolate them with a double-team, seal off all of their passing options, manage to bleed the 24-second clock down to 3-2-1, and what do they do? Chuck up a what-the-eff trey that...goes right in. Only a select few can do it, and the effects can be traumatizing. Wade did it in the first quarter last night, and right then and there, I knew the “Heat Suck” party was over. Someone could have dumped pig’s blood on Gerald Wallace while he was shooting a free throw and I wouldn’t have been more demoralized.
Much has been made of Riles’ decision to bench Ricky Davis and Jason Williams to start the game, but Wade is the straw that snorts this team’s coke. He wasn’t perfect, he only scored 13 points, and he launched enough bad passes into the first row to make Carlos Arroyo blush. But with him in the lineup, the Heat regained their swagger and drive. Miami shot 58%, converted 19 Charlotte turnovers into 28 points, and stuck the dagger in when they had the chance by going on a 15-0 run that spanned the 3rd and 4th quarters. For his part, Davis was sensational, getting 23 points on 9-14 shooting and 3 steals. Meanwhile, rookie Daequan Cook became Daequan the Chef, serving up a fine cuisine of 19 points and a perfect 9-9 from the foul line.
For the Bobcats, it was the same old recurring themes: inconsistent play from the stars (Crash had 4 turnovers and only 6 points after the 1st quarter, Emeka Okafor had just 7 points and 6 boards, and Richardson had just 10 points, or 1 point for every $1.11 million he’s owed this year), a non-presence at the center spot (although Jermareo Davis (8 points) is making a strong case for 2nd Best Rookie Named “Jermareo” (after Toronto’s Moon)), and an over-reliance on outside shooting (we’re the 6th-worst shooting team in the lead because we can’t penetrate). Also, Raymond Felton’s got to be leading the league in the Most-Drives-That-End-Up-With-The-Ball-Spinning-Agonizingly-Long-On-The-Rim-Before-Rolling-Off-And-No-Fouls-Called-Despite-Obvious-Contact category.
And not to beat a dead horse, but Jeff McInnis’s season-to-date numbers? 23 MPG, 4.2 PPG, 4.1 APG, and the 4th-worst PG efficiency in the league. Smush Parker is after him, and he was a DNP on Tuesday; McInnis played 21 minutes…I’m starting to envy other team’s point guard situations the way I imagine rappers envy each other’s G-4’s. I’m even jealous of Portland, for cripes’ sake. When we played them a few weeks ago, I was like, “Wow, Steve Blake, Jarret Jack, and Sergio Rodriguez—imagine if we had them.”
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
NFL Thoughts, Week 12
By my unofficial estimate, the consensus picks for the NFC and AFC Most Disappointing Teams of the Year have been the Rams and Bengals, respectively. In fact, as a thought experiment, before reading further, ask yourself whether or not you agree with these choices, and why or why not.
Done? Okay. Now here’s why I think St. Louis and Cincinnati have been disappointing in critics’ eyes. On the eve of the season, most NFL prognosticators believed both teams would make the playoffs and—in the Rams case—compete for the division title. The rationale behind these healthy outlooks was that both teams had good-to-great quarterbacks (Carson Palmer, Marc Bulger), wide receivers (Chad Johnson, T.J. Houshmandzadeh, Chris Henry; Torry Holt, Isaac Bruce, Drew Bennett), and running backs (Rudi Johnson, Steven Jackson). While the defenses for both teams weren’t great, weaknesses had been addressed through the draft (the Rams selected DE Adam Carriker 13th overall, the Bengals took CB Leon Hall 18th overall).
The fact that both franchises are now floundering—with no realistic shot at anything—spotlights the lackadaisically narrow view many analysts take when appraising a team. Last season, the Bengals ranked 17th in points allowed and 30th in yards allowed, while the Rams ranked 28th and 23rd. Other than the Bengals’ acquisition of Lemar Marshall, neither team acquired a significant defensive free agent in the off-season, and Cincinnati placed Marshall on injured reserve in the first week of October, where he joined teammate and fellow starting LBs Dave Pollack and Caleb Miller. And though both teams focused on drafting defensive talent, considering the historical lack of impact that even high draft picks have their rookie year, both teams had essentially done nothing to improve themselves on defense in the near term.
So why did NFL analysts expect so much out of these teams? Quite simply, most people—including high-paid experts—ignore the importance of defense, even though—as the cliché goes—it “wins championships.” And do you know why I think they do this? Two words: fantasy football. According to some estimates, as many as 20 million people now play fantasy football—often in several leagues at once. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the rules, fantasy football rosters generally consist of quarterbacks, wide receivers, tight ends, running backs, kickers, and “defenses/special teams.” The first five groups are drafted by fantasy “owners” on an individual basis, while “defenses/special teams” are selected collectively. Thus, for example, a fantasy football roster might feature Tom Brady at quarterback (plus backup), Steve Smith and Andre Johnson at wide receiver (plus backups), Heath Miller at tight end (plus backup), Brandon Jacobs at running back (plus backup), Neil Rackers kicking, and the Baltimore Ravens defense/special teams. Further, the scoring structure within fantasy football is such that the defense/special teams “position” matters the least, because by nature the majority of scoring in football comes from the offense. While defenses do provide quantifiable results (e.g., sacks, interceptions, and even the occasional defensive touchdown), the founders and participants of fantasy football had too much trouble coming up with a method of properly integrating individual defensive statistics into their point-scoring systems. Or they didn’t feel like it.
That’s a shame, because as crazy as it may sound, I really think a side effect of this derivative, pretend game (fantasy football) has been to marginalize the contributions of half the participants—i.e., defenses—of the real thing. I really can’t think of any other reason why—when analyzing a weekly match-up, for instance—commentators will go in-depth on each team’s QB, WR, RB, and TE (and often even touching on their backups) before—almost as an afterthought—merely rating the entire defensive unit as either “good” or “bad.”
Similarly, an over-exaggeration of the draft’s importance distorts our assessment of teams. Out of the entire first round of picks, I count only about five rookies who have made truly significant contributions: Joe Thomas (3rd), Adrian Peterson (7th), Patrick Willis (11th), Jon Beason (25th), and Greg Olsen (31st). Others have been steady if unspectacular, and about a third of them have barely even played. According to Len Pasquerelli at ESPN.com, only 13 first round selections are even starting for their teams this year, and out of the 260+ total selections made every year, only 30 or so on average start. Yet a rundown of each team’s draft picks is typically at the very top of every season preview.
We all love offense, and we’re all excited about rookies. High-scoring games are generally more fun to watch. I’m told fantasy football is really fun to play. Meanwhile, rookies are new, interesting, and prone to saying stupid, thoughtless, highly-quotable things. But sometimes I worry that both fantasy football and the draft are dumbing down our overall analytical skills. Football isn’t all that hard to absorb in its totality in the first place. Let’s face it, watching football and following it obsessively is time that could be spent pursuing more intellectually challenging endeavors. We basically do it because it’s a visceral experience that’s easier than, say, reading a book or listening to an orchestra. So by focusing mostly on five positions and draft picks, what are we saying about our attention spans? They’re not even robust enough to account for half a football team?
This all reminds me of some ads I’ve seen for a product called “Executive Summaries,” which boils down popular business books into 1-page synopses. These uber-Cliffs Notes are targeted for “busy” executives who apparently don’t have time to take in the entire book and would really just like the bottom-line main points. What’s sort of disturbing is the fact that these are books like Malcolm Gladwell’s The Tipping Point, which doesn’t exactly reach James Joyce-levels of complexity to begin with. Is all this hyper-truncation where society’s ultimately headed? I wonder what might be next; perhaps songs that only feature a repeated chorus, or movies that cut straight to the shoot-outs and sex scenes. If that’s the case, the pharmaceutical companies better get started on their Soma production…
Offensive Player of the Week: Brett Favre, Packers. 381 yards, 3 touchdowns, no picks, and a stretch of 20 consecutive completions. To me, Favre’s like Bono. For a long time, I basically thought of them both as cagey charlatans—Bono with his supposed worldliness, and Favre with his fake tears. But now I’m convinced that both are the real deal and should be celebrated.
Defensive Player of the Week: Patrick Kerney, Seahawks. Forget about drafting Seattle’s defense for your fantasy team, just draft Kerney, who amassed 3 sacks, an interception, and a forced fumbles. Although I don’t know how many fantasy points that’s worth, it helped his real team win the game.
RIP Sean Taylor. Between the spitting, the jet-ski related assault charges, and the explosive plays in the secondary, there was simply never a dull moment for this amazing talent and volatile personality. He lived fast and died much too young…
Done? Okay. Now here’s why I think St. Louis and Cincinnati have been disappointing in critics’ eyes. On the eve of the season, most NFL prognosticators believed both teams would make the playoffs and—in the Rams case—compete for the division title. The rationale behind these healthy outlooks was that both teams had good-to-great quarterbacks (Carson Palmer, Marc Bulger), wide receivers (Chad Johnson, T.J. Houshmandzadeh, Chris Henry; Torry Holt, Isaac Bruce, Drew Bennett), and running backs (Rudi Johnson, Steven Jackson). While the defenses for both teams weren’t great, weaknesses had been addressed through the draft (the Rams selected DE Adam Carriker 13th overall, the Bengals took CB Leon Hall 18th overall).
The fact that both franchises are now floundering—with no realistic shot at anything—spotlights the lackadaisically narrow view many analysts take when appraising a team. Last season, the Bengals ranked 17th in points allowed and 30th in yards allowed, while the Rams ranked 28th and 23rd. Other than the Bengals’ acquisition of Lemar Marshall, neither team acquired a significant defensive free agent in the off-season, and Cincinnati placed Marshall on injured reserve in the first week of October, where he joined teammate and fellow starting LBs Dave Pollack and Caleb Miller. And though both teams focused on drafting defensive talent, considering the historical lack of impact that even high draft picks have their rookie year, both teams had essentially done nothing to improve themselves on defense in the near term.
So why did NFL analysts expect so much out of these teams? Quite simply, most people—including high-paid experts—ignore the importance of defense, even though—as the cliché goes—it “wins championships.” And do you know why I think they do this? Two words: fantasy football. According to some estimates, as many as 20 million people now play fantasy football—often in several leagues at once. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the rules, fantasy football rosters generally consist of quarterbacks, wide receivers, tight ends, running backs, kickers, and “defenses/special teams.” The first five groups are drafted by fantasy “owners” on an individual basis, while “defenses/special teams” are selected collectively. Thus, for example, a fantasy football roster might feature Tom Brady at quarterback (plus backup), Steve Smith and Andre Johnson at wide receiver (plus backups), Heath Miller at tight end (plus backup), Brandon Jacobs at running back (plus backup), Neil Rackers kicking, and the Baltimore Ravens defense/special teams. Further, the scoring structure within fantasy football is such that the defense/special teams “position” matters the least, because by nature the majority of scoring in football comes from the offense. While defenses do provide quantifiable results (e.g., sacks, interceptions, and even the occasional defensive touchdown), the founders and participants of fantasy football had too much trouble coming up with a method of properly integrating individual defensive statistics into their point-scoring systems. Or they didn’t feel like it.
That’s a shame, because as crazy as it may sound, I really think a side effect of this derivative, pretend game (fantasy football) has been to marginalize the contributions of half the participants—i.e., defenses—of the real thing. I really can’t think of any other reason why—when analyzing a weekly match-up, for instance—commentators will go in-depth on each team’s QB, WR, RB, and TE (and often even touching on their backups) before—almost as an afterthought—merely rating the entire defensive unit as either “good” or “bad.”
Similarly, an over-exaggeration of the draft’s importance distorts our assessment of teams. Out of the entire first round of picks, I count only about five rookies who have made truly significant contributions: Joe Thomas (3rd), Adrian Peterson (7th), Patrick Willis (11th), Jon Beason (25th), and Greg Olsen (31st). Others have been steady if unspectacular, and about a third of them have barely even played. According to Len Pasquerelli at ESPN.com, only 13 first round selections are even starting for their teams this year, and out of the 260+ total selections made every year, only 30 or so on average start. Yet a rundown of each team’s draft picks is typically at the very top of every season preview.
We all love offense, and we’re all excited about rookies. High-scoring games are generally more fun to watch. I’m told fantasy football is really fun to play. Meanwhile, rookies are new, interesting, and prone to saying stupid, thoughtless, highly-quotable things. But sometimes I worry that both fantasy football and the draft are dumbing down our overall analytical skills. Football isn’t all that hard to absorb in its totality in the first place. Let’s face it, watching football and following it obsessively is time that could be spent pursuing more intellectually challenging endeavors. We basically do it because it’s a visceral experience that’s easier than, say, reading a book or listening to an orchestra. So by focusing mostly on five positions and draft picks, what are we saying about our attention spans? They’re not even robust enough to account for half a football team?
This all reminds me of some ads I’ve seen for a product called “Executive Summaries,” which boils down popular business books into 1-page synopses. These uber-Cliffs Notes are targeted for “busy” executives who apparently don’t have time to take in the entire book and would really just like the bottom-line main points. What’s sort of disturbing is the fact that these are books like Malcolm Gladwell’s The Tipping Point, which doesn’t exactly reach James Joyce-levels of complexity to begin with. Is all this hyper-truncation where society’s ultimately headed? I wonder what might be next; perhaps songs that only feature a repeated chorus, or movies that cut straight to the shoot-outs and sex scenes. If that’s the case, the pharmaceutical companies better get started on their Soma production…
Offensive Player of the Week: Brett Favre, Packers. 381 yards, 3 touchdowns, no picks, and a stretch of 20 consecutive completions. To me, Favre’s like Bono. For a long time, I basically thought of them both as cagey charlatans—Bono with his supposed worldliness, and Favre with his fake tears. But now I’m convinced that both are the real deal and should be celebrated.
Defensive Player of the Week: Patrick Kerney, Seahawks. Forget about drafting Seattle’s defense for your fantasy team, just draft Kerney, who amassed 3 sacks, an interception, and a forced fumbles. Although I don’t know how many fantasy points that’s worth, it helped his real team win the game.
RIP Sean Taylor. Between the spitting, the jet-ski related assault charges, and the explosive plays in the secondary, there was simply never a dull moment for this amazing talent and volatile personality. He lived fast and died much too young…
Monday, November 26, 2007
Bobcats Thoughts, 11/26
I’ve had to wait a few days for the sting to go down before I could comment. Man, it’s been a rough week. I’m already naturally down on Thanksgiving week, because I’m a vegetarian and not inclined to celebrate over the mass slaughter and consumption of 46 million helpless animals. The little “gobble” sound effects noises on radio shows, all the idle chatter about people stuffing themselves, the humiliating Presidential “pardon” of two turkeys who've already had their lives cut in half thanks to the genetic manipulation performed by factory farms…ha-ha.
I actually do eat Thanksgiving dinner with my family, although I consume “Tofurkey.” Relatives think I’m crazy, laugh at me, and roll their eyes at my irrationality before gorging on the carcass of an innocent bird that spent an unbearably short 14-week life crammed in a 2-foot cell, had its beak and toes severed without anesthesia, got pumped full of hormones to increase its girth to twice its natural size, then—still fully conscious—was hung by its toes while its throat was slit, before finally getting tossed into a steaming vat of water, covered in its own blood, and boiled alive—happy holidays, everyone! Enjoy those leftovers…
Anyway, as I was saying, I was down BEFORE the Bobcats’ 3-game losing streak with results that ranged from merely “painful” to “soul-sucking.” Like all of us, I’m sure, I was salivating with anticipation just prior to the Wizards game on Wednesday. Washington was coming off a back-to-back, they were on the road, and—what was it, something else…oh yeah, they'd just learned they’d be without Gilbert Arenas for the next three months. AND they wouldn’t have Brendan Haywood either—for Washington fans, the Haywood announcement probably felt like the sports fan equivalent of learning the Pentagon had been hit after the WTC went down. Charlotte fans couldn’t have asked for much more.
Instead, Washington rallied without their star like Teen Wolf’s team in the state championship. Antawn Jamison (27 points, 12 rebounds) and Caron Butler (39 points) led the way. I forgot just how fast Butler is, considering his size—he had two breakaway steals and excelled at getting charges called on people due to his ability to quickly get in position. Meanwhile, if only Andray Blatche could solicit prostitutes as well as he filled in at power forward; the man had 12 points, 13 boards, 5 blocks, and 2 steals. We also learned a harsh lesson in what happens if you don’t bother guarding Antonio Daniels. (Answer: he shoots and scores repeatedly)
Don’t let the OT fool you: the effort was terrible, and we deserved to lose this in regulation. Washington out-rebounded us 53-40, had leads as large as 9, and had 18 fast break points to our 10. Only a series of weird fouls at the end of regulation sent this to an extra frame. The chief culprit in our crime spree of laziness was Jason Richardson. And as bad as he was (4-14 shooting for 10 points in 39 minutes), he STILL had a chance to be a hero when he drew an “and-1” with a minute left in regulation and the score tied at 101. But he missed it. I guess I should be happy that he drove, though, because it seems like he hardly ever does—why I don’t know, considering he’s got a good handle and he’s lithe.
The loss to Washington was critical, because it was the only winnable looking one out of the three games. Orlando was next, featuring Dwight Howard, who greeted us like a cyclone does to Bangladesh. Finishing with 34 points, 17 rebounds, 4 blocks, and even 3 steals, I don’t know if Howard prefers playing as George, Lizzie, or Ralph, but whatever the case, he went on a total rampage. The only reason his totals weren’t far higher was Howard’s poor FT-percentage (12-21). If you’re wondering why Orlando’s now 12-3, look no further than Howard. He’s so dominant that it really doesn’t matter if the rest of the team is a bunch of one-dimensional shooters (and not even good shooters at that—take away Howard and the rest of the Magic only shot 27-of-66); Howard will just grab the rebound. And stuff it. And run the fast break. And rip Ryan Hollins’ arm out of his socket and start beating him with it. Howard once said that his ultimate goal was to get a cross on the NBA logo, which—depending on your religious views—is either inspirational or terrifying. In this game, he dropped a hammer of the gods on us.
At least the effort was slightly better on this one. Even though we never led and trailed by as many as 22, we kept scrapping. For once, Gerald Wallace was unable to summon his Claire Bennett powers, and a calf injury limited him to even fewer minutes than Primoz Brezec. Outgunned down low, Emeka Okafor put up a heroic 12 points and 18 boards. What’s alarming, though, is that Mek’s range this season has been even less than Anton Chigurh’s. Unless Okafor is point-blank and armed with a cattlegun, he can't seem to make his shots. Walter Herrmann led the way for us with 16 points, but they were largely inconsequential. This blowout paved the way for…
…Boston. My cycle of emotions during this game mirrored that of the doomed hostage cop in Reservoir Dogs. Follow me here: at first I was basically just praying for a quick death, which I knew I wouldn’t get. Then all of a sudden Mr. Blonde gets shot out of nowhere (or in this case, the Celtics go a full three minutes at the end without scoring a point) and I had a little hope, but then suddenly “Nice Guy” Ray Allen guns me down unexpectedly. It was absolutely devastating.
Making matters worse, I had to watch the game on League Pass with the Celtics announcers, which means…oh dear lord…Hi, Mr. Heinsohn, always a pleasure. After 3 hours with Tommy, and lots of insistence on fouls against the Celtics not getting called, lots of claims about being unable to see anything, and lots of praise for Brian Scalabrine, I was pretty much an emotional wreck. My personal favorite Tommy line of the night: “Needless to say, with a couple of minutes left, the Celtics need some stops here…they also need to score some buckets too.” You’re right, Tommy, that was needless to say.
Anyhow, though I still wish he’d drive more, J-Rich partially redeemed himself with this one by going 5-5 from downtown (although he $#%&ed it up with that inbounds at the end—ARRRGH!). And despite being not particularly big, fast, strong, or athletic—actually, he’s kind of like Sean May, I guess, except without the injuries—Jared Dudley is playing some fabulous ball. Subbing for Crash, Dudley did a little of everything with 11 points, 9 boards, and 3 assists. He’s got a knack for getting open, he’s a good shooter, and he gets to the free throw line the way I wish J-Rich would. And as Beanie Sigel is the general of the ROC, Raymond Felton is the general with the rock. Anything I say about poor effort does not apply to him. Ever.
How odd were the similarities between this game and the Eagles-Patriots? Think about it: two huge underdogs, both playing without their marquee names (Wallace for us, McNabb for Philly), both going up against Boston-based juggernauts, and both ALMOST winning. A little too ironic, yeah I really do think...
I actually do eat Thanksgiving dinner with my family, although I consume “Tofurkey.” Relatives think I’m crazy, laugh at me, and roll their eyes at my irrationality before gorging on the carcass of an innocent bird that spent an unbearably short 14-week life crammed in a 2-foot cell, had its beak and toes severed without anesthesia, got pumped full of hormones to increase its girth to twice its natural size, then—still fully conscious—was hung by its toes while its throat was slit, before finally getting tossed into a steaming vat of water, covered in its own blood, and boiled alive—happy holidays, everyone! Enjoy those leftovers…
Anyway, as I was saying, I was down BEFORE the Bobcats’ 3-game losing streak with results that ranged from merely “painful” to “soul-sucking.” Like all of us, I’m sure, I was salivating with anticipation just prior to the Wizards game on Wednesday. Washington was coming off a back-to-back, they were on the road, and—what was it, something else…oh yeah, they'd just learned they’d be without Gilbert Arenas for the next three months. AND they wouldn’t have Brendan Haywood either—for Washington fans, the Haywood announcement probably felt like the sports fan equivalent of learning the Pentagon had been hit after the WTC went down. Charlotte fans couldn’t have asked for much more.
Instead, Washington rallied without their star like Teen Wolf’s team in the state championship. Antawn Jamison (27 points, 12 rebounds) and Caron Butler (39 points) led the way. I forgot just how fast Butler is, considering his size—he had two breakaway steals and excelled at getting charges called on people due to his ability to quickly get in position. Meanwhile, if only Andray Blatche could solicit prostitutes as well as he filled in at power forward; the man had 12 points, 13 boards, 5 blocks, and 2 steals. We also learned a harsh lesson in what happens if you don’t bother guarding Antonio Daniels. (Answer: he shoots and scores repeatedly)
Don’t let the OT fool you: the effort was terrible, and we deserved to lose this in regulation. Washington out-rebounded us 53-40, had leads as large as 9, and had 18 fast break points to our 10. Only a series of weird fouls at the end of regulation sent this to an extra frame. The chief culprit in our crime spree of laziness was Jason Richardson. And as bad as he was (4-14 shooting for 10 points in 39 minutes), he STILL had a chance to be a hero when he drew an “and-1” with a minute left in regulation and the score tied at 101. But he missed it. I guess I should be happy that he drove, though, because it seems like he hardly ever does—why I don’t know, considering he’s got a good handle and he’s lithe.
The loss to Washington was critical, because it was the only winnable looking one out of the three games. Orlando was next, featuring Dwight Howard, who greeted us like a cyclone does to Bangladesh. Finishing with 34 points, 17 rebounds, 4 blocks, and even 3 steals, I don’t know if Howard prefers playing as George, Lizzie, or Ralph, but whatever the case, he went on a total rampage. The only reason his totals weren’t far higher was Howard’s poor FT-percentage (12-21). If you’re wondering why Orlando’s now 12-3, look no further than Howard. He’s so dominant that it really doesn’t matter if the rest of the team is a bunch of one-dimensional shooters (and not even good shooters at that—take away Howard and the rest of the Magic only shot 27-of-66); Howard will just grab the rebound. And stuff it. And run the fast break. And rip Ryan Hollins’ arm out of his socket and start beating him with it. Howard once said that his ultimate goal was to get a cross on the NBA logo, which—depending on your religious views—is either inspirational or terrifying. In this game, he dropped a hammer of the gods on us.
At least the effort was slightly better on this one. Even though we never led and trailed by as many as 22, we kept scrapping. For once, Gerald Wallace was unable to summon his Claire Bennett powers, and a calf injury limited him to even fewer minutes than Primoz Brezec. Outgunned down low, Emeka Okafor put up a heroic 12 points and 18 boards. What’s alarming, though, is that Mek’s range this season has been even less than Anton Chigurh’s. Unless Okafor is point-blank and armed with a cattlegun, he can't seem to make his shots. Walter Herrmann led the way for us with 16 points, but they were largely inconsequential. This blowout paved the way for…
…Boston. My cycle of emotions during this game mirrored that of the doomed hostage cop in Reservoir Dogs. Follow me here: at first I was basically just praying for a quick death, which I knew I wouldn’t get. Then all of a sudden Mr. Blonde gets shot out of nowhere (or in this case, the Celtics go a full three minutes at the end without scoring a point) and I had a little hope, but then suddenly “Nice Guy” Ray Allen guns me down unexpectedly. It was absolutely devastating.
Making matters worse, I had to watch the game on League Pass with the Celtics announcers, which means…oh dear lord…Hi, Mr. Heinsohn, always a pleasure. After 3 hours with Tommy, and lots of insistence on fouls against the Celtics not getting called, lots of claims about being unable to see anything, and lots of praise for Brian Scalabrine, I was pretty much an emotional wreck. My personal favorite Tommy line of the night: “Needless to say, with a couple of minutes left, the Celtics need some stops here…they also need to score some buckets too.” You’re right, Tommy, that was needless to say.
Anyhow, though I still wish he’d drive more, J-Rich partially redeemed himself with this one by going 5-5 from downtown (although he $#%&ed it up with that inbounds at the end—ARRRGH!). And despite being not particularly big, fast, strong, or athletic—actually, he’s kind of like Sean May, I guess, except without the injuries—Jared Dudley is playing some fabulous ball. Subbing for Crash, Dudley did a little of everything with 11 points, 9 boards, and 3 assists. He’s got a knack for getting open, he’s a good shooter, and he gets to the free throw line the way I wish J-Rich would. And as Beanie Sigel is the general of the ROC, Raymond Felton is the general with the rock. Anything I say about poor effort does not apply to him. Ever.
How odd were the similarities between this game and the Eagles-Patriots? Think about it: two huge underdogs, both playing without their marquee names (Wallace for us, McNabb for Philly), both going up against Boston-based juggernauts, and both ALMOST winning. A little too ironic, yeah I really do think...
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Bobcats Thoughts, 11/20
Just about everything from Saturday night’s game against Seattle went perfectly. First, traveling across the country, coming off a double-OT game the night before, playing the dreaded 4th game in 5 nights, and in general sucking, the Sonics were handed to us on a silver platter. Second, Charlotte continued to defeat the teams that it should defeat. Third, Jason Richardson justified my love by asserting his ability to dominate, drilling 4 3-pointers for 14 points in three minutes during the 3rd quarter and thereby catalyzing a victory. Fourth, Ryan Hollins put in another 25 minutes of solid work, collecting 6 points, 7 rebounds, a block, and a steal; as long as Hollins keeps this up, Coach Vincent can continue to yank starter Primoz Brezec faster than Viva Laughlin. Finally, we held Seattle to just 31% shooting and committed just 15 turnovers in another inspired team effort.
In fact, all in all, there was just one small problem: I couldn’t watch any if it because the game wasn’t televised. I swear to Pat Riley, I was pretty darned angry when it wasn’t even available on League Pass. I tried to make due with watching the running ticker on NBA.com, but after about twenty minutes or so, ayo! I was tired of using technology. Instead I flipped over to the Nets-Heat game, observed Vince Carter in a suit, and gave silent prayers of thanks to our management for not signing him to a 4-year, $66 million deal (with the whole MJ-VC-UNC thing, it had been one of my greatest fears this past spring—in fact, next time I see a Jumpman insignia, I’m going to cross myself). At least they ran some highlights on NBA TV Daily the next day, although they were of the "cheerleader-cam" sort: directly under the basket and hard to make anything out. I remember this happened twice last season, but not until much later in the year.
Oh, and one other semi-related note on this one: did anyone see Peter King’s “MMQB” column on SI.com yesterday—the part where he wrote about the ongoing NFL Network-Cable war? King actually wrote the line, “I don't watch the Network much, because I don't have time to watch much NFL programming other than games…I have nothing against it, and I'm sure I'm missing things by not watching the regular programming. But there's a sea of NFL programming on ESPN and Fox and everywhere else, and you could go blind watching it all.” Umm, anyone have a problem with this admission? King doesn’t have time? How could you be a paid commentator—who covers only one sport, I might add—and not watch the network that’s solely devoted to your sport? And then the “ESPN and Fox is enough for me” part—brother, no wonder they all sound alike…We need some sort of indie-sportswriting revolutionary figure to topple these empires. I can see it now: t-shirts of The Basketball Jones’s Skeets and Taz looking like Che Guevara.
Anyway, onto last night’s game with Portland, wherein we got our first look at their prized hulking rookie...Josh McRoberts. Josh played his first minute (not minutes) of the year, but he didn’t do much other than exhibit his wild-looking hair. Jeez, the last time I saw him flaming out at Duke, he had a crew-cut. Now he looks like he played one of the Dylan parts in I’m Not There.
Anyway, onto the game itself. We were in firm control for the better part of three quarters, thanks to foul trouble to bigs LaMarcus Aldridge, Channing Frye, and Joel Pryzbilla (who’s not much more than a rich man’s Primoz Brezec anyway). The lackluster play of their interior was a key aspect of Portland’s loss. "Not to blame LaMarcus and Joel,” Coach Nate McMillan said after the game—and I love when jocks use the phrase, “Not to blame,” because then they go on to do precisely that— “but the two of those guys had two rebounds.”
The Blazers narrowed the score to 40-36 at the half, courtesy of Steve Blake’s ridiculous half-court shot at the buzzer, but we came out charging in the third. “You never know when it’s going to come,” Coach Sam Vincent said after the game, speaking of Jason Richardson’s 24-point performance. Actually you do, Coach, it’s going to come in the 3rd quarter. Richardson had 14 points in his latest third quarter outburst and had us hovering around a double-digit lead. “Sometimes the basket is the size of an ocean, sometimes it's the size of a cup,” Richardson later told reporters, and for one terrifying second I thought he was going to recite a poem that he had written. Thankfully, he simply added, “When you see the ocean, you shoot.”
All of a sudden, though, the Blazers came back, even briefly leading by 3-points at the beginning of the 4th quarter. This was mostly due to some really cheesy referee work, in my opinion (not to blame them, but…). Gerald Wallace and Jeff McInnis both got called for some ludicrous charges and touch fouls (even the Portland announcers believed they were bogus), and of course Crash was crushed on a bunch of drives that weren’t whistled at all. I think the refs were subconsciously refusing to foul out Aldridge, Frye, Pryzbilla, and Brandon Roy. Jarrett Jack (18 points) also deserves some huge credit for sparking Portland off the bench, as does Blake (4-5 3’s, 14 points, 6 boards), and even though Roy had a somewhat muted night (14, 5, 5), he was still a 2nd-half force.
But Raymond Felton refused to lose, getting 16 of his 24 points and dishing 7 of his 10 assists in the last stanza. Gerald Wallace also had his 3rd straight 27-pointer, plus six steals and some truly demoralizing stuffs. Okafor had a solid 12-12 double-double. And even though neither scored much, Matt Carroll and Ryan Hollins both had 2 huge offensive rebounds to bail out the offense and keep the possessions going.
We’re now 6-4, and yeah, we haven’t exactly been facing the 1996 Bulls night in and night out, but we haven’t been facing the 2007 Bulls either. These are some solid young teams we’re beating, and the wins are especially impressive when they come despite blowing leads. And just think, last year at this time we were 2-8.
In fact, all in all, there was just one small problem: I couldn’t watch any if it because the game wasn’t televised. I swear to Pat Riley, I was pretty darned angry when it wasn’t even available on League Pass. I tried to make due with watching the running ticker on NBA.com, but after about twenty minutes or so, ayo! I was tired of using technology. Instead I flipped over to the Nets-Heat game, observed Vince Carter in a suit, and gave silent prayers of thanks to our management for not signing him to a 4-year, $66 million deal (with the whole MJ-VC-UNC thing, it had been one of my greatest fears this past spring—in fact, next time I see a Jumpman insignia, I’m going to cross myself). At least they ran some highlights on NBA TV Daily the next day, although they were of the "cheerleader-cam" sort: directly under the basket and hard to make anything out. I remember this happened twice last season, but not until much later in the year.
Oh, and one other semi-related note on this one: did anyone see Peter King’s “MMQB” column on SI.com yesterday—the part where he wrote about the ongoing NFL Network-Cable war? King actually wrote the line, “I don't watch the Network much, because I don't have time to watch much NFL programming other than games…I have nothing against it, and I'm sure I'm missing things by not watching the regular programming. But there's a sea of NFL programming on ESPN and Fox and everywhere else, and you could go blind watching it all.” Umm, anyone have a problem with this admission? King doesn’t have time? How could you be a paid commentator—who covers only one sport, I might add—and not watch the network that’s solely devoted to your sport? And then the “ESPN and Fox is enough for me” part—brother, no wonder they all sound alike…We need some sort of indie-sportswriting revolutionary figure to topple these empires. I can see it now: t-shirts of The Basketball Jones’s Skeets and Taz looking like Che Guevara.
Anyway, onto last night’s game with Portland, wherein we got our first look at their prized hulking rookie...Josh McRoberts. Josh played his first minute (not minutes) of the year, but he didn’t do much other than exhibit his wild-looking hair. Jeez, the last time I saw him flaming out at Duke, he had a crew-cut. Now he looks like he played one of the Dylan parts in I’m Not There.
Anyway, onto the game itself. We were in firm control for the better part of three quarters, thanks to foul trouble to bigs LaMarcus Aldridge, Channing Frye, and Joel Pryzbilla (who’s not much more than a rich man’s Primoz Brezec anyway). The lackluster play of their interior was a key aspect of Portland’s loss. "Not to blame LaMarcus and Joel,” Coach Nate McMillan said after the game—and I love when jocks use the phrase, “Not to blame,” because then they go on to do precisely that— “but the two of those guys had two rebounds.”
The Blazers narrowed the score to 40-36 at the half, courtesy of Steve Blake’s ridiculous half-court shot at the buzzer, but we came out charging in the third. “You never know when it’s going to come,” Coach Sam Vincent said after the game, speaking of Jason Richardson’s 24-point performance. Actually you do, Coach, it’s going to come in the 3rd quarter. Richardson had 14 points in his latest third quarter outburst and had us hovering around a double-digit lead. “Sometimes the basket is the size of an ocean, sometimes it's the size of a cup,” Richardson later told reporters, and for one terrifying second I thought he was going to recite a poem that he had written. Thankfully, he simply added, “When you see the ocean, you shoot.”
All of a sudden, though, the Blazers came back, even briefly leading by 3-points at the beginning of the 4th quarter. This was mostly due to some really cheesy referee work, in my opinion (not to blame them, but…). Gerald Wallace and Jeff McInnis both got called for some ludicrous charges and touch fouls (even the Portland announcers believed they were bogus), and of course Crash was crushed on a bunch of drives that weren’t whistled at all. I think the refs were subconsciously refusing to foul out Aldridge, Frye, Pryzbilla, and Brandon Roy. Jarrett Jack (18 points) also deserves some huge credit for sparking Portland off the bench, as does Blake (4-5 3’s, 14 points, 6 boards), and even though Roy had a somewhat muted night (14, 5, 5), he was still a 2nd-half force.
But Raymond Felton refused to lose, getting 16 of his 24 points and dishing 7 of his 10 assists in the last stanza. Gerald Wallace also had his 3rd straight 27-pointer, plus six steals and some truly demoralizing stuffs. Okafor had a solid 12-12 double-double. And even though neither scored much, Matt Carroll and Ryan Hollins both had 2 huge offensive rebounds to bail out the offense and keep the possessions going.
We’re now 6-4, and yeah, we haven’t exactly been facing the 1996 Bulls night in and night out, but we haven’t been facing the 2007 Bulls either. These are some solid young teams we’re beating, and the wins are especially impressive when they come despite blowing leads. And just think, last year at this time we were 2-8.
NFL Thoughts, Week 11
In Sunday’s losing effort, Chargers running back LaDanian Tomlinson rushed 16 times for just 62 yards (although he did catch 5 passes for 93 receiving yards). One of his non-runs included a somewhat perplexing decision by Norv Turner to have LDT pass on fourth-and-two late in the game and San Diego trailing by a touchdown; the ploy failed. For the year, Tomlinson is projected to rush for 543 fewer yards than last season—a 30% decrease. He’s also on pace to score 15 fewer touchdowns.
Meanwhile, Seattle’s Shaun Alexander missed his second straight game and has played in only 8 overall, gaining a paltry 492 yards on a whispy 3.3 average gain per carry. Interestingly, his team has won both of those games without him and has looked its strongest all season.
Finally, Baltimore’s Steve McNair also did not play this weekend, due to an injury that is widely believed to be a PR move that spares him the embarrassment of a formal benching. McNair has the 6th worst passer rating among starters and presides over the 21st-ranked passing team in the league.
What do these three have in common? Along with Peyton Manning, they are the most recent MVPs. Consider the winners of the past 10 years:
2006 LaDainian Tomlinson
2005 Shaun Alexander
2004 Peyton Manning
2003 Peyton Manning, Steve McNair
2002 Rich Gannon
2001 Kurt Warner
2000 Marshall Faulk
1999 Kurt Warner
1998 Terrell Davis
1997 Brett Favre, Barry Sanders
Of this group, only five (Tomlinson, Favre, Manning, Warner, Alexander) are still playing, and only three (Favre, Manning, and Tomlinson) are performing at a high level. Sanders, Davis, Faulk, and Gannon are long gone, and Warner’s playing time and efficacy over the past few years has been highly sporadic. Now contrast this list with that of the last ten years’ worth of baseball winners:
2006 Ryan Howard, Justin Morneau
2005 Albert Pujols, Alex Rodriguez
2004 Barry Bonds, Vladimir Guerrero
2003 Barry Bonds, Alex Rodriguez
2002 Barry Bonds, Miguel Tejada
2001 Barry Bonds, Ichiro Suzuki
2000 Jeff Kent, Jason Giambi
1999 Chipper Jones, Iván Rodríguez
1998 Sammy Sosa, Juan González
1997 Larry Walker, Ken Griffey, Jr.
Only two of these recipients, Walker and González, are completely retired, and the latter has been attempting a comeback (and Bonds and Sosa might be retiring this offseason). Moreover, every single one of the others is still a great-to-elite player, and one of them, A-Rod, has just won this year’s MVP again. A similar situation exists for the last ten NBA MVPs:
2007 Dirk Nowitzki
2006 Steve Nash
2005 Steve Nash
2004 Kevin Garnett
2003 Tim Duncan
2002 Tim Duncan
2001 Allen Iverson
2000 Shaquille O'Neal
1999 Karl Malone
1998 Michael Jordan
1997 Karl Malone
Only the two furthest back, Malone and Jordan, have retired, while the rest—except for Shaq, I guess—remain perennial MVP candidates.
The difficulty of sustaining superlative individual achievement in the NFL is a product of three factors: the extreme brutality of the sport that shortens careers through injuries, the highly-specialized positions that effectively minimize any one player’s impact, and the salary cap and revenue-sharing plans that promote parity.
Offensive Player of the Week: Tom Brady, Patriots. Speaking of MVPs, Brady could justifiably win this award every week. But this seemed like the best time to pick him because a) he passed for 373 yards, completed 31-of-39 of his attempts, threw 5 touchdowns, had no picks or sacks, and rated 146; and b) the alternative would have been Terrell Owens (8 receptions, 173 yards, 4 TDs).
Defensive Player of the Week: Antrel Rolle, Cardinals. 3 interceptions, 2 of which were touchdowns, led to a big win on the road in Cincinnati. It’s been a tough couple of years for the former Miami Hurricane, but as he points out, “I never pouted, never ranted and raved, never became a cancer to this team.” This is what it’s come to: players praising themselves for not becoming cancers--well done!
Meanwhile, Seattle’s Shaun Alexander missed his second straight game and has played in only 8 overall, gaining a paltry 492 yards on a whispy 3.3 average gain per carry. Interestingly, his team has won both of those games without him and has looked its strongest all season.
Finally, Baltimore’s Steve McNair also did not play this weekend, due to an injury that is widely believed to be a PR move that spares him the embarrassment of a formal benching. McNair has the 6th worst passer rating among starters and presides over the 21st-ranked passing team in the league.
What do these three have in common? Along with Peyton Manning, they are the most recent MVPs. Consider the winners of the past 10 years:
2006 LaDainian Tomlinson
2005 Shaun Alexander
2004 Peyton Manning
2003 Peyton Manning, Steve McNair
2002 Rich Gannon
2001 Kurt Warner
2000 Marshall Faulk
1999 Kurt Warner
1998 Terrell Davis
1997 Brett Favre, Barry Sanders
Of this group, only five (Tomlinson, Favre, Manning, Warner, Alexander) are still playing, and only three (Favre, Manning, and Tomlinson) are performing at a high level. Sanders, Davis, Faulk, and Gannon are long gone, and Warner’s playing time and efficacy over the past few years has been highly sporadic. Now contrast this list with that of the last ten years’ worth of baseball winners:
2006 Ryan Howard, Justin Morneau
2005 Albert Pujols, Alex Rodriguez
2004 Barry Bonds, Vladimir Guerrero
2003 Barry Bonds, Alex Rodriguez
2002 Barry Bonds, Miguel Tejada
2001 Barry Bonds, Ichiro Suzuki
2000 Jeff Kent, Jason Giambi
1999 Chipper Jones, Iván Rodríguez
1998 Sammy Sosa, Juan González
1997 Larry Walker, Ken Griffey, Jr.
Only two of these recipients, Walker and González, are completely retired, and the latter has been attempting a comeback (and Bonds and Sosa might be retiring this offseason). Moreover, every single one of the others is still a great-to-elite player, and one of them, A-Rod, has just won this year’s MVP again. A similar situation exists for the last ten NBA MVPs:
2007 Dirk Nowitzki
2006 Steve Nash
2005 Steve Nash
2004 Kevin Garnett
2003 Tim Duncan
2002 Tim Duncan
2001 Allen Iverson
2000 Shaquille O'Neal
1999 Karl Malone
1998 Michael Jordan
1997 Karl Malone
Only the two furthest back, Malone and Jordan, have retired, while the rest—except for Shaq, I guess—remain perennial MVP candidates.
The difficulty of sustaining superlative individual achievement in the NFL is a product of three factors: the extreme brutality of the sport that shortens careers through injuries, the highly-specialized positions that effectively minimize any one player’s impact, and the salary cap and revenue-sharing plans that promote parity.
Offensive Player of the Week: Tom Brady, Patriots. Speaking of MVPs, Brady could justifiably win this award every week. But this seemed like the best time to pick him because a) he passed for 373 yards, completed 31-of-39 of his attempts, threw 5 touchdowns, had no picks or sacks, and rated 146; and b) the alternative would have been Terrell Owens (8 receptions, 173 yards, 4 TDs).
Defensive Player of the Week: Antrel Rolle, Cardinals. 3 interceptions, 2 of which were touchdowns, led to a big win on the road in Cincinnati. It’s been a tough couple of years for the former Miami Hurricane, but as he points out, “I never pouted, never ranted and raved, never became a cancer to this team.” This is what it’s come to: players praising themselves for not becoming cancers--well done!
Friday, November 16, 2007
Bobcats Thoughts, 11/16
The last two matchups have played out like a game of Doom, with the Bobcats blasting Miami and then getting blasted by Atlanta. The Heat game on Tuesday made for a pleasurable companion piece to our earlier victory over them this season, a sort of Kill Heat, Vol. 2. I guess that made Gerald Wallace the Bride, as he slashed Miami for 19 points, 7 boards, and a jaw-dropping block on Shaquille O’Neal that really iced things.
In general, though, the Heat finished themselves off with a 38.5 field goal percentage and just one 3-pointer the whole night, low-lighted by Udonis Haslem and Ricky Davis, who combined to shoot just 6 of 25 from the field, despite being more open than a Waffle House at 2 AM. Although Shaq supposedly had his “best” game of the season (17 points), I counted at least 4 misses on his part that were either slams or alley-oops. Miami is still capable of coming out strong, intimidating, and seemingly overwhelming, but they can't sustain their surge—at least, without Dwyane Wade. They’re like a collective George Forman, and if you wait long enough, they’ll punch themselves out.
In this one, we had them on the ropes at halftime, and then we outscored them 31 to 12 in the 3rd quarter to knock them out. Miami’s performance was so terrible it had Pat Riley swearing to God afterwards. “Eventually you've got to shave the beard and either look younger or get somebody else in there,” Riles said in the post-game interviews, “You can't continue like this.” Continue like what, with a beard? I’m not even sure what this means.
Anyway, what about our guys? First of all, we don’t have any beards, so we’re good there. Second, we got the turnovers down to just 8(!). Third, Jason Richardson had 18 points, 8 boards, and 4 assists, including 4-5 3-pointers. But the finest shooting came from Emeka Okafor, who made 7-of-9 free throws! And if not for Manu Ginobli, Josh Childress, Jason Terry, Leandro Barbosa—and, hell, probably 5 or 6 others—Matt Carroll (10 points) would be a frontrunner for 6th Man of the Year. Jermareo Davidson had 6 points, 2 blocks, and 3 boards in just 8 minutes. Even Primoz Brezec had 6 points. “That’s what he does best!” one of the Miami commentators noted, after PB dropped one of those high-arcing mid-range shots of his. Well, I don’t know about that, but it’s certainly what he does.
Then it was on to Atlanta, where the Hawks have turned into a 6-8” high-flying forward factory. Ironically, their extreme depth of sameness makes them a total wild card. I don’t think they’re a great team, but because they’re so unlike any other team in the league, preparing for them is a nightmare; it’s like playing against a wishbone offense in college football. Look at their record, because it totally bears out their inconsistency: wins against us, Dallas, and Phoenix, but losses to Detroit, New Jersey, Boston, and Washington.
This was my first good look at Al Horford (13 points, 13 boards), and the boy is scary good already with frightening potential to one day rule the galaxy. I think he’s the forward equivalent of Chris Paul and Dwight Howard. He’s already got natural rebounding ability, burgeoning back-down skills, and even his range is even pretty good. Plus he gets higher than gas prices, so his blocking ability will soon rival that of teammate Josh Smith. Strangely, Horford didn’t actually start the game; Coach Woodson came out with Zaza Pachulia. The only theory I can come up with on that one is that Woodson was rewarding Pachulia for keeping that feathered, mid-80s haircut when so many guys are doing that horrible Scott Stapp-thing of flat, black, semi-long hair (see: David Carr, Luis Scola, that hideous UPS commercial guy, the priest from Deadwood, and that one eurotrashy vampire in 30 Days of Night (the latter three are all possibly the same guy))
Speaking of Smith: 15 points, 5 blocks, 3 assists, and 3 boards—all by halftime, before he got injured in the 3rd. Early on, Primoz was “guarding” him, and it had me wondering if there could possibly be more of a disparity in athleticism? In any sport? In life itself? Maybe covering Chad Johnson with Stephen Hawking, or Terrell Owens with Laura Bush. Anyway, needless to say, it didn’t last long—Primoz got 5 minutes of point-less pointlessness.
Taking PB’s place was Ryan Hollins, who had an impressive 11 points, 2 blocks, and 6 boards in 25 minutes of burn. He also does a hilarious Kevin Garnett scream impersonation after slams, which looks all the more ridiculous when we’re trailing by 13 with thirty seconds to play. J-Rich had his second strong game in a row (27 points), and Gerald Wallace single-handedly brought us back in the 3rd quarter from a 15-point halftime deficit by matching Richardson for points (including 8-13 on FT’s).
After digging too deep a hole, the second half was a series of frustrating boom-bust cycles, in which we would painstakingly whittle Atlanta’s lead down to 6 or so, and then all of a sudden be trailing by 15 again in, like, 30 seconds. Credit should go to Childress (23 points), Marvin Williams (19 points), and…oh yeah, Joe Johnson had 34 points and 10 assists.
I’ll take the 4-4 record. I’d say with the exception of the Philly debacle, we’ve won the games we’re supposed to, and ditto with the losses.
In general, though, the Heat finished themselves off with a 38.5 field goal percentage and just one 3-pointer the whole night, low-lighted by Udonis Haslem and Ricky Davis, who combined to shoot just 6 of 25 from the field, despite being more open than a Waffle House at 2 AM. Although Shaq supposedly had his “best” game of the season (17 points), I counted at least 4 misses on his part that were either slams or alley-oops. Miami is still capable of coming out strong, intimidating, and seemingly overwhelming, but they can't sustain their surge—at least, without Dwyane Wade. They’re like a collective George Forman, and if you wait long enough, they’ll punch themselves out.
In this one, we had them on the ropes at halftime, and then we outscored them 31 to 12 in the 3rd quarter to knock them out. Miami’s performance was so terrible it had Pat Riley swearing to God afterwards. “Eventually you've got to shave the beard and either look younger or get somebody else in there,” Riles said in the post-game interviews, “You can't continue like this.” Continue like what, with a beard? I’m not even sure what this means.
Anyway, what about our guys? First of all, we don’t have any beards, so we’re good there. Second, we got the turnovers down to just 8(!). Third, Jason Richardson had 18 points, 8 boards, and 4 assists, including 4-5 3-pointers. But the finest shooting came from Emeka Okafor, who made 7-of-9 free throws! And if not for Manu Ginobli, Josh Childress, Jason Terry, Leandro Barbosa—and, hell, probably 5 or 6 others—Matt Carroll (10 points) would be a frontrunner for 6th Man of the Year. Jermareo Davidson had 6 points, 2 blocks, and 3 boards in just 8 minutes. Even Primoz Brezec had 6 points. “That’s what he does best!” one of the Miami commentators noted, after PB dropped one of those high-arcing mid-range shots of his. Well, I don’t know about that, but it’s certainly what he does.
Then it was on to Atlanta, where the Hawks have turned into a 6-8” high-flying forward factory. Ironically, their extreme depth of sameness makes them a total wild card. I don’t think they’re a great team, but because they’re so unlike any other team in the league, preparing for them is a nightmare; it’s like playing against a wishbone offense in college football. Look at their record, because it totally bears out their inconsistency: wins against us, Dallas, and Phoenix, but losses to Detroit, New Jersey, Boston, and Washington.
This was my first good look at Al Horford (13 points, 13 boards), and the boy is scary good already with frightening potential to one day rule the galaxy. I think he’s the forward equivalent of Chris Paul and Dwight Howard. He’s already got natural rebounding ability, burgeoning back-down skills, and even his range is even pretty good. Plus he gets higher than gas prices, so his blocking ability will soon rival that of teammate Josh Smith. Strangely, Horford didn’t actually start the game; Coach Woodson came out with Zaza Pachulia. The only theory I can come up with on that one is that Woodson was rewarding Pachulia for keeping that feathered, mid-80s haircut when so many guys are doing that horrible Scott Stapp-thing of flat, black, semi-long hair (see: David Carr, Luis Scola, that hideous UPS commercial guy, the priest from Deadwood, and that one eurotrashy vampire in 30 Days of Night (the latter three are all possibly the same guy))
Speaking of Smith: 15 points, 5 blocks, 3 assists, and 3 boards—all by halftime, before he got injured in the 3rd. Early on, Primoz was “guarding” him, and it had me wondering if there could possibly be more of a disparity in athleticism? In any sport? In life itself? Maybe covering Chad Johnson with Stephen Hawking, or Terrell Owens with Laura Bush. Anyway, needless to say, it didn’t last long—Primoz got 5 minutes of point-less pointlessness.
Taking PB’s place was Ryan Hollins, who had an impressive 11 points, 2 blocks, and 6 boards in 25 minutes of burn. He also does a hilarious Kevin Garnett scream impersonation after slams, which looks all the more ridiculous when we’re trailing by 13 with thirty seconds to play. J-Rich had his second strong game in a row (27 points), and Gerald Wallace single-handedly brought us back in the 3rd quarter from a 15-point halftime deficit by matching Richardson for points (including 8-13 on FT’s).
After digging too deep a hole, the second half was a series of frustrating boom-bust cycles, in which we would painstakingly whittle Atlanta’s lead down to 6 or so, and then all of a sudden be trailing by 15 again in, like, 30 seconds. Credit should go to Childress (23 points), Marvin Williams (19 points), and…oh yeah, Joe Johnson had 34 points and 10 assists.
I’ll take the 4-4 record. I’d say with the exception of the Philly debacle, we’ve won the games we’re supposed to, and ditto with the losses.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
NFL Thoughts, Week 10
Adrian Peterson is an unsolvable riddle, an indefatigable debate. He’s abortion. He’s the death penalty. He’s a pregnant woman who wants an abortion because she’s been sentenced to death. He’s Eminem. He’s Elton John. He’s Eminem hugging Elton John on stage.
Adrian Peterson is leading the NFL in rushing with 1,081 yards, 120 YPG, and a cartoonish 6.4 YPC, all on a team that can’t throw the ball. In a recent ESPN.com’s revisionist draft by Todd McShay, A.D. would have gone 3rd to Cleveland, rather than 7th to the Vikings. But this was before Peterson was injured on Sunday, after which he announced he will miss at least one more game. He’s amazing, he’s a bust; there is simply no correct answer for him.
And there never has been. At Oklahoma, Peterson gained almost 1,925 rushing yards and finished 2nd in the Heisman voting as a freshman. He eventually generated 4,045 yards and 41 TDs in less than three seasons. He runs a 4.4 40. He also injured his shoulder his freshman year, sprained his ankle badly as a sophomore, and missed half his junior season with a broken collarbone.
On the eve of the draft, he was projected to go as high as 3rd and as low as 12th. Scouts were confounded by his toxic mix of ability and fragility. While injury concerns are nothing new—especially in football—what made Peterson unique in my eyes was that his potential for lost time was practically a certainty—a question of “when,” not “if.” Peterson himself openly admitted he’d opted for the draft before his senior year precisely because he was worried about injuries destroying his chances at a professional payday. So the ultimate question is, will he be worth it, because he WILL miss time. I guess the answer is going to change weekly.
At work we have a ratings system for all employees that looks like a graph, because it considers every worker’s attributes along two dimensions: Contribution (the x-axis) and Leadership (the y-axis). Contribution is mostly about what you’ve done so far, while Leadership attempts to gauge your future potential. The ratings scheme goes from 1-9, with 1-3 comprising the lowest row (left-to-right), 4-6 making up the middle row, and 7-9 sitting atop the highest row. So if you can picture it, a “1” would be in the lower left corner and a “9” would in the upper right corner. The further up and to the right you go, the better management thinks of you. So a “1” essentially means you’ve contributed nothing and have no potential (and can expect a pink slip momentarily), a “9” means you’re a stud with unlimited potential who will one day be CEO (and eventually get busted for accounting fraud), and a “5” is dead smack in the average-joe middle.
Anyway, to make a long story slightly less long, when I first looked at this chart, I was most curious about who the company deemed to be “3” and “7” people. What would they be like? Because 3’s occupy the lower-right corner of the chart, that means they are phenomenal contributors but with zero leadership potential; I could only envision a “Rain Man”-like savant who could perform any function in seconds, but was sadly autistic. Meanwhile, 7’s contributed nothing but had somehow managed to exhibit extraordinary leadership potential, and that’s even harder to imagine—something like a lazy slacker-genius who never shows up for work but scribbles the idea for an iPod on a Twinkie wrapper and makes the company a billion dollars.
Well, to bring this back to football, ultimately Adrian Peterson is going to be one of those fringe “3” or “7” players. His production will be sporadic yet spectacular...
Offensive Player of the Week: Marc Bulger, Rams. They’ve been the Greatest No-Show on Turf this year, but Bulger finally leads the offense to victory with a 27-for-33/302 yards/2-TD/0-INT day against the Saints.
Defensive Player of the Week: Karlos Dansby, Cardinals. Dansby’s 2 interceptions and a forced fumble spelled doom for Detroit, though I’m not sure why his parents spelled Carlos with a “K.”
Adrian Peterson is leading the NFL in rushing with 1,081 yards, 120 YPG, and a cartoonish 6.4 YPC, all on a team that can’t throw the ball. In a recent ESPN.com’s revisionist draft by Todd McShay, A.D. would have gone 3rd to Cleveland, rather than 7th to the Vikings. But this was before Peterson was injured on Sunday, after which he announced he will miss at least one more game. He’s amazing, he’s a bust; there is simply no correct answer for him.
And there never has been. At Oklahoma, Peterson gained almost 1,925 rushing yards and finished 2nd in the Heisman voting as a freshman. He eventually generated 4,045 yards and 41 TDs in less than three seasons. He runs a 4.4 40. He also injured his shoulder his freshman year, sprained his ankle badly as a sophomore, and missed half his junior season with a broken collarbone.
On the eve of the draft, he was projected to go as high as 3rd and as low as 12th. Scouts were confounded by his toxic mix of ability and fragility. While injury concerns are nothing new—especially in football—what made Peterson unique in my eyes was that his potential for lost time was practically a certainty—a question of “when,” not “if.” Peterson himself openly admitted he’d opted for the draft before his senior year precisely because he was worried about injuries destroying his chances at a professional payday. So the ultimate question is, will he be worth it, because he WILL miss time. I guess the answer is going to change weekly.
At work we have a ratings system for all employees that looks like a graph, because it considers every worker’s attributes along two dimensions: Contribution (the x-axis) and Leadership (the y-axis). Contribution is mostly about what you’ve done so far, while Leadership attempts to gauge your future potential. The ratings scheme goes from 1-9, with 1-3 comprising the lowest row (left-to-right), 4-6 making up the middle row, and 7-9 sitting atop the highest row. So if you can picture it, a “1” would be in the lower left corner and a “9” would in the upper right corner. The further up and to the right you go, the better management thinks of you. So a “1” essentially means you’ve contributed nothing and have no potential (and can expect a pink slip momentarily), a “9” means you’re a stud with unlimited potential who will one day be CEO (and eventually get busted for accounting fraud), and a “5” is dead smack in the average-joe middle.
Anyway, to make a long story slightly less long, when I first looked at this chart, I was most curious about who the company deemed to be “3” and “7” people. What would they be like? Because 3’s occupy the lower-right corner of the chart, that means they are phenomenal contributors but with zero leadership potential; I could only envision a “Rain Man”-like savant who could perform any function in seconds, but was sadly autistic. Meanwhile, 7’s contributed nothing but had somehow managed to exhibit extraordinary leadership potential, and that’s even harder to imagine—something like a lazy slacker-genius who never shows up for work but scribbles the idea for an iPod on a Twinkie wrapper and makes the company a billion dollars.
Well, to bring this back to football, ultimately Adrian Peterson is going to be one of those fringe “3” or “7” players. His production will be sporadic yet spectacular...
Offensive Player of the Week: Marc Bulger, Rams. They’ve been the Greatest No-Show on Turf this year, but Bulger finally leads the offense to victory with a 27-for-33/302 yards/2-TD/0-INT day against the Saints.
Defensive Player of the Week: Karlos Dansby, Cardinals. Dansby’s 2 interceptions and a forced fumble spelled doom for Detroit, though I’m not sure why his parents spelled Carlos with a “K.”
Monday, November 12, 2007
Bobcats Thoughts, 11/12
Well, it wasn’t a sweep, but the last two games were like a fine filet mignon compared to the previous two games’ sack of White Castle. The Cats had an impressive come-from-behind victory on Friday against the Pacers and a heartbreaking defeat to the stacked Houston Rockets on Sunday that was in many ways more impressive.
Emeka Okafor was huge on Friday, throwing up 25 points and 23 rebounds. "I've been looking at other big men and what they do and watching what I do and kind of just comparing," Okafor said afterward, although it was unclear if he was referring to the game or quoting his favorite Dirk Diggler line from Boogie Nights. However, as amazing as his stat line was, even more delightful was Gerald Wallace’s performance. Crash’s 28 points and 4 steals sparked the 9-minute bridge between the 3rd and 4th quarters, during which our 8-point deficit became an 11-point lead. He played like the old Wallace too, driving to the hoop and getting 15 FT attempts (making 10).
For a long time though, things looked grim, particularly because the Pacers’ offense was supplied predominantly by Troy Murphy. I know he and Shawne Williams have range, but when big guys knock down five 3-pointers and a slew of 15-20-footers, it just feels more demoralizing. Add that to Jeff Foster’s 12 rebounds, all of which seemed to a) come on offense, and b) happen in the 2nd and 3rd quarters, and I was looking forward to Quarter 4 about as much as the movie Saw 4.
Further, Raymond Felton was a bit gimpy on the bad knee and Jason Richardson (5 points, 2 turnovers) has gone MIA. (Say what you will about Adam Morrison, but at least you knew when he was out there. Morrison was the crazy homeless guy who drops his drawers and pees right in the center of town square, while Richardson thus far has quietly been taking a dump in the corner.) But anyway, the team rallied, thanks to some timely 3’s by Matt Carroll, a huge 52-39 rebounding advantage, and “just” 16 turnovers, which for us qualifies as “flawless.”
On Sunday, we owned the game for about 46 minutes. For the second straight game the Bobcats excelled in free throws (14/15), turnovers (just 12!), and Matt Carrolls (6-10 FGs, 3-4 3PTs, 17 points). Even Richardson was electric for the first two quarters (14 points), although he was Amish the rest of the way (2 points). Okafor also showed some serious Swan Lake moves early on (12 PTS-11 REB-2 BLK on some stellar ballet down low), but got into the old familiar foul trouble that ultimately hurt us. With an extremely balanced attack (four guys in double-figures), the Cats led by as many as 10. Houston’s Luther Head, Mike James, and Stab-to-my-Lou Rafer Alson were also doing their best to help us out, going a combined 4-for-15 from the field with 6 total assists (and Steve Francis can’t crack this lineup??).
But none of that mattered, because Yao Ming simply would not be denied. With 34 points, 8 boards, 3 blocks, and even 4 assists, we were no match for his powers. Yao missed just 2 of his 15 FG attempts and made all 8 of his free throws in a devastating one-man attack. Fittingly, he snagged the last key rebound of the game when he hauled in Alston’s idiotic 3-point attempt with 38-seconds to go, got fouled, and sank both shots to give the Rockets a 1-point lead. Wallace was called for a ridiculous offensive foul when he subsequently drove to the basket on Tracy McGrady, effectively ending the game.
T-Mac, everyone’s favorite existentialist superstar, got the results when it mattered most, scoring 12 of Houston’s final 16 points. "I don't think there's a better 1-2 combination ... they might be the best combination since MJ [Michael Jordan] and [Scottie] Pippen," a glum Wallace observed afterward (note to reporters: is it really necessary to clarify who Wallace meant by “MJ” and “Pippen”?).
Emeka Okafor was huge on Friday, throwing up 25 points and 23 rebounds. "I've been looking at other big men and what they do and watching what I do and kind of just comparing," Okafor said afterward, although it was unclear if he was referring to the game or quoting his favorite Dirk Diggler line from Boogie Nights. However, as amazing as his stat line was, even more delightful was Gerald Wallace’s performance. Crash’s 28 points and 4 steals sparked the 9-minute bridge between the 3rd and 4th quarters, during which our 8-point deficit became an 11-point lead. He played like the old Wallace too, driving to the hoop and getting 15 FT attempts (making 10).
For a long time though, things looked grim, particularly because the Pacers’ offense was supplied predominantly by Troy Murphy. I know he and Shawne Williams have range, but when big guys knock down five 3-pointers and a slew of 15-20-footers, it just feels more demoralizing. Add that to Jeff Foster’s 12 rebounds, all of which seemed to a) come on offense, and b) happen in the 2nd and 3rd quarters, and I was looking forward to Quarter 4 about as much as the movie Saw 4.
Further, Raymond Felton was a bit gimpy on the bad knee and Jason Richardson (5 points, 2 turnovers) has gone MIA. (Say what you will about Adam Morrison, but at least you knew when he was out there. Morrison was the crazy homeless guy who drops his drawers and pees right in the center of town square, while Richardson thus far has quietly been taking a dump in the corner.) But anyway, the team rallied, thanks to some timely 3’s by Matt Carroll, a huge 52-39 rebounding advantage, and “just” 16 turnovers, which for us qualifies as “flawless.”
On Sunday, we owned the game for about 46 minutes. For the second straight game the Bobcats excelled in free throws (14/15), turnovers (just 12!), and Matt Carrolls (6-10 FGs, 3-4 3PTs, 17 points). Even Richardson was electric for the first two quarters (14 points), although he was Amish the rest of the way (2 points). Okafor also showed some serious Swan Lake moves early on (12 PTS-11 REB-2 BLK on some stellar ballet down low), but got into the old familiar foul trouble that ultimately hurt us. With an extremely balanced attack (four guys in double-figures), the Cats led by as many as 10. Houston’s Luther Head, Mike James, and Stab-to-my-Lou Rafer Alson were also doing their best to help us out, going a combined 4-for-15 from the field with 6 total assists (and Steve Francis can’t crack this lineup??).
But none of that mattered, because Yao Ming simply would not be denied. With 34 points, 8 boards, 3 blocks, and even 4 assists, we were no match for his powers. Yao missed just 2 of his 15 FG attempts and made all 8 of his free throws in a devastating one-man attack. Fittingly, he snagged the last key rebound of the game when he hauled in Alston’s idiotic 3-point attempt with 38-seconds to go, got fouled, and sank both shots to give the Rockets a 1-point lead. Wallace was called for a ridiculous offensive foul when he subsequently drove to the basket on Tracy McGrady, effectively ending the game.
T-Mac, everyone’s favorite existentialist superstar, got the results when it mattered most, scoring 12 of Houston’s final 16 points. "I don't think there's a better 1-2 combination ... they might be the best combination since MJ [Michael Jordan] and [Scottie] Pippen," a glum Wallace observed afterward (note to reporters: is it really necessary to clarify who Wallace meant by “MJ” and “Pippen”?).
Thursday, November 08, 2007
Bobcats Thoughts, 11/08
To quote Johnny Drama, these last two games were a “bloodbath,” starting at home against Phoenix. You know how economists say that gas prices aren’t that high when you adjust for inflation? NBA teams also use a similar technique for rationalizing blowout losses to Phoenix. “It’s okay if they shot 50% on us, it’s Phoenix,” the supposed logic goes. Well, I don’t care who we'ere playing, 37% shooting and 24 turnovers are horrible stats, not to mention being out-assisted 31 to 11. And normally when we lose to Phoenix, the consolation prize is that we at least beef up our own offensive output. Instead, we got just 83 points, and our top scorer a) had just 16 points, and b) was Jared Dudley.
Thank god no one’s got footage of Mike D’Antoni spying on assistant coaches, or else Phoenix might have REALLY run the score up. On the other hand, watching Sean Marks log 16 minutes of garbage time for 13 points was in many ways MORE humiliating than letting Steve Nash rack up, say, 30 assists. Phoenix executed its run-and-gun offense to perfection, hitting half their shots, 9-24 of their 3-pointers, and turning the ball over just 10 times. Our defense, meanwhile, looked more lost than the President in a stem cell research laboratory. We couldn’t get back fast enough in transition, nor could we rotate properly to cover the open man; Emeka Okafor was often left hilariously trying to guard Nash. Mek also had just 7 rebounds and a block. He also didn’t score…not didn’t score much, mind you, he didn’t score, PERIOD.
If there was any bright spot, it was Dudley. Having barely played at all in the first two games, starting one's career against the Suns is less a trial by fire and more a trial by explosion. Dudley showed some toughness and surprising speed, getting to the line 12 times. Jermareo Davidson also played 18 minutes, scored 6 points, and showed some range, but he also shot way too many times (10). But this game was The Empire Strikes Back, because there were far more highlights for the Dark Side. Beside the god-awful team play, Raymond Felton left in the third quarter after badly bruising his knee, and Gerald Wallace was an atrocity, getting just 12 points in 12 FG attempts and committing 5 turnovers. He’s suddenly pulling the Vince-Carter-settling-for-outside-shots-card, too.
Last night in Philly, things somehow managed to get worse. Amidst a listed crowd of 9,000 at a Wachovia Center that was about as raucous as a mall at 10 AM, the Bobcats turned in an all-time crappy performance. At least Phoenix is a good team; after Andre Igiodala, the Sixers’ second-most famous player is probably Reggie Evans, who’s best known for grabbing another man’s testicles. We actually looked like we were still trying to defend against Phoenix too, with the added twist of repeatedly leaving the lane WIDE OPEN—our interior defense has gone the way of Matt Carroll’s hair: it’s vanished.
I’m not sure how this game could have been any more depressing, unless maybe the halftime show featured a public hanging. How could we have played so uninspired? Perpetually sunny commentators Steve Martin and Henry Williams kept invoking the old back-to-back-games-exhaustion excuse, but I don’t buy it when a) it’s only the fourth game of the year, and b) Coach Vincent pulled most of the starters the night before once it got ugly (i.e., just after the opening tip-off). And before I forget, although I’m an unabashed Matt Devlin supporter, I’m already falling in love with Steve Martin. As we entered the 4th quarter with just 47 points, Martin enthusiastically chirped, “The Bobcats are ATTACKING some franchise lows.” Now THAT is putting a positive spin on it (FYI: we did end up scoring 63, one point better than the franchise’s lowest single-game total).
Unfortunately, none of our other “attacks” failed. Going through our stat line is like reading Citigroup’s latest earnings report. 30…percent…shooting. ZERO threes. And are you ready for this one: 26 turnovers. These are some serious write-offs. Jason Richardson gave what I can only hope will be his worst performance of the season: 4 points on 2-15 shooting in 34 minutes. Raymond Felton didn’t play at all and probably still had a better game than Jeff McInnis (2 points, 2 assists, 5 turnovers). I’ve pretty much said my piece on Jeff over the last few days—no wait, have I mentioned what a horrible defender he is? 4 fouls last night. And they’re not even hard fouls, either. Okay, that’s it from me on McInnis, I’m going to cease-fire on that one. We didn’t get a suitable backup PG, and now we’re paying the piper.
For the second straight game, Coach Vincent limited a completely demoralized-looking Primoz Brezec to just single-digit minutes, opting to go small instead. Usually, this implies going small AND fast, but right now we’re just small and turnover-prone.
Trying to pick anything good out of these last two games is like trying to pick the best Friday the 13th movie—it’s all sucked. The young’uns—Dudley, Davidson, and Hollins—got plenty of burn, but didn’t really do anything other than try really, really hard. Felton’s injury doesn’t look serious. And…um…Coach Vincent reminds me of Mack from the movie Predator. Those are about all of the compliments I can muster at this time.
Thank god no one’s got footage of Mike D’Antoni spying on assistant coaches, or else Phoenix might have REALLY run the score up. On the other hand, watching Sean Marks log 16 minutes of garbage time for 13 points was in many ways MORE humiliating than letting Steve Nash rack up, say, 30 assists. Phoenix executed its run-and-gun offense to perfection, hitting half their shots, 9-24 of their 3-pointers, and turning the ball over just 10 times. Our defense, meanwhile, looked more lost than the President in a stem cell research laboratory. We couldn’t get back fast enough in transition, nor could we rotate properly to cover the open man; Emeka Okafor was often left hilariously trying to guard Nash. Mek also had just 7 rebounds and a block. He also didn’t score…not didn’t score much, mind you, he didn’t score, PERIOD.
If there was any bright spot, it was Dudley. Having barely played at all in the first two games, starting one's career against the Suns is less a trial by fire and more a trial by explosion. Dudley showed some toughness and surprising speed, getting to the line 12 times. Jermareo Davidson also played 18 minutes, scored 6 points, and showed some range, but he also shot way too many times (10). But this game was The Empire Strikes Back, because there were far more highlights for the Dark Side. Beside the god-awful team play, Raymond Felton left in the third quarter after badly bruising his knee, and Gerald Wallace was an atrocity, getting just 12 points in 12 FG attempts and committing 5 turnovers. He’s suddenly pulling the Vince-Carter-settling-for-outside-shots-card, too.
Last night in Philly, things somehow managed to get worse. Amidst a listed crowd of 9,000 at a Wachovia Center that was about as raucous as a mall at 10 AM, the Bobcats turned in an all-time crappy performance. At least Phoenix is a good team; after Andre Igiodala, the Sixers’ second-most famous player is probably Reggie Evans, who’s best known for grabbing another man’s testicles. We actually looked like we were still trying to defend against Phoenix too, with the added twist of repeatedly leaving the lane WIDE OPEN—our interior defense has gone the way of Matt Carroll’s hair: it’s vanished.
I’m not sure how this game could have been any more depressing, unless maybe the halftime show featured a public hanging. How could we have played so uninspired? Perpetually sunny commentators Steve Martin and Henry Williams kept invoking the old back-to-back-games-exhaustion excuse, but I don’t buy it when a) it’s only the fourth game of the year, and b) Coach Vincent pulled most of the starters the night before once it got ugly (i.e., just after the opening tip-off). And before I forget, although I’m an unabashed Matt Devlin supporter, I’m already falling in love with Steve Martin. As we entered the 4th quarter with just 47 points, Martin enthusiastically chirped, “The Bobcats are ATTACKING some franchise lows.” Now THAT is putting a positive spin on it (FYI: we did end up scoring 63, one point better than the franchise’s lowest single-game total).
Unfortunately, none of our other “attacks” failed. Going through our stat line is like reading Citigroup’s latest earnings report. 30…percent…shooting. ZERO threes. And are you ready for this one: 26 turnovers. These are some serious write-offs. Jason Richardson gave what I can only hope will be his worst performance of the season: 4 points on 2-15 shooting in 34 minutes. Raymond Felton didn’t play at all and probably still had a better game than Jeff McInnis (2 points, 2 assists, 5 turnovers). I’ve pretty much said my piece on Jeff over the last few days—no wait, have I mentioned what a horrible defender he is? 4 fouls last night. And they’re not even hard fouls, either. Okay, that’s it from me on McInnis, I’m going to cease-fire on that one. We didn’t get a suitable backup PG, and now we’re paying the piper.
For the second straight game, Coach Vincent limited a completely demoralized-looking Primoz Brezec to just single-digit minutes, opting to go small instead. Usually, this implies going small AND fast, but right now we’re just small and turnover-prone.
Trying to pick anything good out of these last two games is like trying to pick the best Friday the 13th movie—it’s all sucked. The young’uns—Dudley, Davidson, and Hollins—got plenty of burn, but didn’t really do anything other than try really, really hard. Felton’s injury doesn’t look serious. And…um…Coach Vincent reminds me of Mack from the movie Predator. Those are about all of the compliments I can muster at this time.
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
NFL Thoughts, Week 9
I must first confess to barely watching any football this weekend. I only caught the first hour of the Jets-Redskins game—which did not exactly inspire me to put pen-to-paper—before flipping over to the Celtics-Raptors game. And then, although you’d think I’d be glued to my seat for the Patriots-Colts game, you’d be wrong, because I switched to the Bobcats-Heat matchup. My irrational love for a basketball franchise that is so inept that its major offseason acquisition was purchasing the domain name “bobcats.com” from some hillbilly breeders in Montana aside, I think it’s possible to hype games to a fault.
I might be and possibly am the only one who thinks like this, but I find that the level of attention a game receives actually has an inverse effect on the chances I’ll watch it. In an era with instant accessibility to highlights and analysis via the web, ESPN, podcasts, your cell phone, snappy Keith Olberman one-liners, etc., I find the net effect to be a reduction of the necessity of watching the actual games live. For me, ESPN actually defeats its own purpose with its perpetual motion hype machine, similar to movie trailers that give away the whole story. They set the stage so thoroughly that all I really need to know is the end state. I’m results-oriented and I have lots of competing interests (some of which are four-legged and a threat to urinate on my furniture at any moment), so if I have no rooting interest in either team, and I also know beforehand that I’ll have a 3+ hour affair boiled down to a compact, 2-minute package of key plays (complete with a shouting Bob Costas/Chris Berman narrative arc) if I just wait until it’s over, why bother sitting through it?
If only David Carr could condense his football games to two minutes. “I don’t think David deserves a lot of criticism,” FB Brad Hoover told reporters after the game. No, what he deserves is an ice pack. Carr ate the turf 7 times and threw for fewer yards than Adrian Peterson could probably pee after chugging a bottle of Gatorade. I’m starting to think Carr’s got one of those victim-mentalities, and getting sacked is all he knows. He’d probably be the type of lifetime convict who continues to commit crimes because he misses jail. And I had such high hopes for him when the Panthers signed him too. Not that he’s had any help. The defense has managed just seven sacks the entire season, our running backs are apparently still “a year away,” and Jon Beason is the only one who has distinguished himself amongst the younger players (Dwayne Jarrett is a few DNP’s away from becoming the answer to a trivia question).
Offensive Player of the Week: Adrian Peterson, Vikings. It’s hard to argue with breaking the all-time single-game rushing record. Adrian Peterson is like Michael Jordan on the ’86 Bulls: an incredibly magnificent rookie who elevates his team to…mediocrity. As an added bonus, he also SOUNDS like a 1986 Mike Tyson. Have you heard him in an interview? Some reporter needs to ask him to repeat the line: “I’m the greatest fighter in the world. I fear no man.”
Defensive Player of the Week: Shaun Rogers, Lions. 2.5 sacks, a pass defense, and a 60+ yard interception returned for a touchdown. He probably lost 5 pounds alone on that pick-six that lasted longer than a UAW negotiation.
I might be and possibly am the only one who thinks like this, but I find that the level of attention a game receives actually has an inverse effect on the chances I’ll watch it. In an era with instant accessibility to highlights and analysis via the web, ESPN, podcasts, your cell phone, snappy Keith Olberman one-liners, etc., I find the net effect to be a reduction of the necessity of watching the actual games live. For me, ESPN actually defeats its own purpose with its perpetual motion hype machine, similar to movie trailers that give away the whole story. They set the stage so thoroughly that all I really need to know is the end state. I’m results-oriented and I have lots of competing interests (some of which are four-legged and a threat to urinate on my furniture at any moment), so if I have no rooting interest in either team, and I also know beforehand that I’ll have a 3+ hour affair boiled down to a compact, 2-minute package of key plays (complete with a shouting Bob Costas/Chris Berman narrative arc) if I just wait until it’s over, why bother sitting through it?
If only David Carr could condense his football games to two minutes. “I don’t think David deserves a lot of criticism,” FB Brad Hoover told reporters after the game. No, what he deserves is an ice pack. Carr ate the turf 7 times and threw for fewer yards than Adrian Peterson could probably pee after chugging a bottle of Gatorade. I’m starting to think Carr’s got one of those victim-mentalities, and getting sacked is all he knows. He’d probably be the type of lifetime convict who continues to commit crimes because he misses jail. And I had such high hopes for him when the Panthers signed him too. Not that he’s had any help. The defense has managed just seven sacks the entire season, our running backs are apparently still “a year away,” and Jon Beason is the only one who has distinguished himself amongst the younger players (Dwayne Jarrett is a few DNP’s away from becoming the answer to a trivia question).
Offensive Player of the Week: Adrian Peterson, Vikings. It’s hard to argue with breaking the all-time single-game rushing record. Adrian Peterson is like Michael Jordan on the ’86 Bulls: an incredibly magnificent rookie who elevates his team to…mediocrity. As an added bonus, he also SOUNDS like a 1986 Mike Tyson. Have you heard him in an interview? Some reporter needs to ask him to repeat the line: “I’m the greatest fighter in the world. I fear no man.”
Defensive Player of the Week: Shaun Rogers, Lions. 2.5 sacks, a pass defense, and a 60+ yard interception returned for a touchdown. He probably lost 5 pounds alone on that pick-six that lasted longer than a UAW negotiation.
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