Some brief, sarcastic comments on the last few days worth of Sports “news”:
Buggin’ Out—So Roger Clemens is going through his first (what would you call it, rehab start?) outing since rejoining the Astros, pitching for Class A Lexington Legends last night when his son approaches the mound during the third inning.
“Dad, I just wanted to tell you if you strike out one more guy, the entire crowd gets free wiper fluid.”
Upon hearing this news from Koby, the Rocket proceeds to get two more strikeouts, finding the motivation to retire the side. Now every time it rains or a bug splatters the windshield for the next month, people in Lexington will think of Roger Clemens.
I just glad Clemens wasn’t down there for “Mullet Appreciate Night” back in May—he would have had to go 1986 on everyone.
Just Sickening—No one should be overly concerned that Dwyane Wade has missed a couple practices because of lingering effects from the flu that hampered him in Game 6 of the Eastern Conference Finals. We’re talking about practice, man. We’re talking about practice.
What would really make Wade sick--and everyone else except Dirk Notwitzki--is if David Hasselhoff sang the National Anthem before one of the games in Dallas.
Hearing crickets—The College Women’s World Series match-up between Arizona and Northwestern drew more viewers than Game 1 of the Stanley Cup Finals, which pulled in a cool 611,000 households. Yep, Hockey's definitely making a comeback.
Take it easy, Champ, why don’t you sit the next couple plays out—Seems like there are quite a few major leaguers upset at Lastings Milledge for giving some hive fives to the fans after hitting his first major league home-run. This wasn’t during play, it was between innings on his way to the field.
Lighten up about baseball’s unwritten rules. Perhaps the crackdown on amphetamines has really made some players/managers cranky. Maybe most of these guys need to make peace with themselves for not doing the same thing on their first home-run.
Remember the old SNL skit, “Deep Thoughts by Jack Handey”? Well, this is something like that. Only worse.
Eastern Conference Finals:
—The Pistons, as I’ve said before, could be finished. The theory isn’t exactly groundbreaking, but when you get a group of players who have played three full seasons without injuries AND have made a deep run into the playoffs each year, eventually they will run out of steam and out of luck. That’s just how it is, that’s how it’s always been. Think ‘89 Lakers or ’87 Celtics. Things just catch up with you. Things have certainly caught up with Detroit, the players and the coaches.
—With Dwayne Wade’s acrobatic, amazing and burned into playoff lore lay-up yesterday, the Pistons are being fit for a playoff toe-tag faster than Marty McFly was when facing a possible duel with Mad Dog Tannen in Back to the Future III.
—That play was indicative of what’s wrong with Detroit this post-season. Wade flipped the switch; the Heat have flipped the switch in the Eastern Conference Finals—but the Pistons have stood by and watched, mostly. Had this been 2004 or even 2005, somebody on the Pistons would have wrapped up Wade’s arms and prevented the shot from being taken. Somebody would have taken him to the floor. Hard.
—Everyone says not to write off the Detroit Pistons; that they love it when their backs are firmly against the walls and the odds are worse than Pitt-Aniston reconciliation. Well, wish granted. Down 3-1 in the Eastern Conference Finals against a team that has had it in for you for the past twelve months is pretty bad odds. Of the last 43 teams to be down 3 games to 1 in the Conference Finals, only three have came back to win the series.
—Don’t blame Flip Saunders for this—as it has been rumored that the Pistons are. (Wasn’t that the rumor with this group and Rick Carlisle for awhile? And for a short time last year, Larry Brown? Maybe it’s the players, after all.) For all that the Pistons are and claim to be, they sure throw their coach under the bus pretty easily. No, the “Demise of Detroit” is simple logic. Time takes its toll in the NBA, through injuries and fatigue, and there’s nothing they can do about it.
In honor of the late, legendary, “That Guy” actor club, I can’t help but wonder if Detroit would be fairing better under the tutelage of Paul Gleason. He could have even coached the Pistons as his character in The Breakfast Club, Principal Vernon.
Try and imagine his post game press conferences: “Mess with the bull, you get the horns.” Or “I told them the next time I have to call a time-out, I’m crackin’ skulls.” Or simply imagine Vernon giving a pre-game speech: “You ought to spend a little more time trying to win the game and this series and a little less time worry about trying to impress people.” Paul Gleason, you will be missed.
—Yes, these are the things that I think about. All. Day. Long.
—Is it me, or have the Pistons become a mini-version of the Spurs and are beginning to argue and bemoan every call that isn’t in their favor?
Western Conference Finals --If Mark Cuban can turn around the Mavericks with his money and enthusiasm, why not the Cubs?
—Sticking with the baseball thing for a second, in baseball, they always say good pitching always beats good hitting. Is that what we’re seeing in the Western Conference Finals? From the Dallas Mavericks, of all teams?
The Mavs got burned in Game 1 by 32 fast-break points from Nash and the Suns up-tempo game. They preached defense and stopping the Suns in transition before Game 2. Since that time, they’ve allowed 25 fast-break points combined in Games 2 & 3 (and just four—4!—in Game 3). Neither team scored a 100 in the Game 3, which is always to the advantage of whoever the Suns are playing. Seems like Phoenix has have run into a wall—good defense.
—The MVP, Steve Nash, has gently called out his teammates, saying they need to show more fight and have “been a little too passive” at times. I don’t think it’s long before his teammates start fighting back and asking for a piece of the MVP Trophy. After all, they helped him win, and now he's calling them out?
--Hard to believe, but Raja Bell really could be the key to the series for the Suns. Say that again, slowly. Raja Bell.
—Two words (in the voice of Christopher Walken): “More Barbosa”.
Back later this week with NGS II Finalist Assignment #2…
Let’s just settle the MVP debate right now…in my house, it’s my wife. When it comes to our team, I play sidekick. I talk a lot, put up some solid numbers and take over for a little while—but in the stretch run, I defer to my wife when it comes to our newborn daughter—our daily opponent, who right now has a record like the ’96 Bulls. In other words, in our house, I’m Shaquille O’Neal and my wife is Dwyane Wade.
That worries me, because with Shaq Daddy, you don’t know what you’re getting anymore.
As I watched a Rocky marathon last weekend, I realized that Shaq is in the Rocky V stage of his career.
Long ago, O’Neal reserved his spot as one of the best NBA centers ever—his career 26.3 points, 11.8 rebounds and 2.5 blocks per game are a lock for the Hall of Fame. Off the court, Diesel has always been a fan favorite. He gives us good quotes, has a sense of humor and has a love of life we don’t often see from professional athletes. After all, Shaq is the person who gave us Blue Chips, six rap albums and of course, the Reebok “Don’t Fake the Funk on a Nasty Dunk” campaign.
But on the court, the inevitable is here—Shaq lacks the hunger, the skills and the attack to be as dominate as he once was. Basically, he’s every Rocky Balboa before the cool “regaining the hunger/turning point/training hard” montage.
O’Neal doesn’t impose fear anymore—in opposing centers, in opposing teams, or the refs. As expected, this is hard for Shaq (and us) to rationalize. When he’s sent to the bench for early foul trouble, as he often has throughout the playoffs this year, he can only be thinking something like this:
“But I’ve been doing the same moves my entire career—what’s different now? They’re all just floppers and the refs have it out for me.”
He sees every opposing center as a new version of Vlade Divac--massive jokes as defensive players, who fall down and don’t move their feet; praying to draw the charge.
In reality, Shaq’s a big man who can’t move his feet very good—his reaction times have slowed with age, and he really is committing fouls. Case in point: In the past five seasons, his personal fouls per game have gone from 3.0 in 2001-2002 to 3.9 this year.
The refs aren’t calling Shaq differently. Shaq is playing differently.
It goes much deeper than that. O’Neal needs extra time to recuperate—it’s clearly obvious he’s much better on an extra day's rest. When the playoffs come around, he always steps it up a notch—but now, even that’s getting to be a challenge. If Jason Collins (who isn’t exactly Ivan Drago out there) is giving you problems, you know you’re in your twilight.
The last few years of his run with the Lakers, Shaq openly admitted to using the regular season as preparation for the playoffs. When you’re an athlete in your 20’s physical prime, that mindset works. When you’re in your 30’s…eh, not so much.
In fourteen NBA seasons, Shaq has only missed the playoffs once—his rookie year with Orlando. But he’s playing fewer and fewer regular season games—for the first time since an injury plagued 1996-1997 season (excluding the ’99 lockout), Shaq played less than 60 games. Allen Iverson used to ask about the importance of practice…Shaq seems to be asking about the importance of the regular season.
History and logic tells us that all great centers start a rapid decline around age 30-32. It’s a time-told truth—like the inevitable fall of boy bands. Like most of the greats, one season you have it, then Kazaam!—the next your fighting injuries, age and fatigue.
Like Brett Favre, Randy Johnson and so many before, Shaq shouldn’t be told to quit—that’s his decision (and despite how we like to remember the mega-stars who were nearly as large as the game, it will always be their decision). With that said, he is far removed from his days of dominance and the Shaq-Fu.
Another case in point: for ten seasons, he averaged over 26 points per game. In the past three seasons, his points per game dropped to 21.5, climbed back to 22.9, and then dropped again to 20.9 this year. O’Neal only scored 30 points in a game four times this season. His last 40-point game in the regular season was December of 2003 against Washington.
It doesn’t help when Shaq loses role players like Eddie Jones and Damon Jones—who hit timely shots and played solid defense. Good team defense could hide Shaq’s slower mobility (almost inability) now to block shots. And when O’Neal is forced to help out, he’s moved away from the basket and can’t recover fast enough to hit the boards. For the first time in his career, he’s averaging less than ten total rebounds per game.
I bet my wife is hoping my career doesn’t decline to the point she can only count on me once every three days. She’s putting up Wade-like numbers against the baby: 3 hours sleep, nursing and taking care of the 4 year old. If we’re going to win a championship, I’ve got to step it up—just like Shaq.
If we are to witness a “Shaqaissance”, then Carl Weathers needs to get down to South Beach and whisper into O’Neal’s ear: “There IS no tomorrow…got to get it back, man—the eye of the tiger!”
And if neither Shaq nor I start contributing more to our respective teams, we’ll both be out of jobs.
I admit I love and miss the NBA of the 1980’s. Magic and the Lakers against Bird and the Celtics, along with Michael’s one-man show. Here we are, nearly twenty years removed from that time and the main gripe against the NBA is its lack of anything resembling the basketball most of its current fans grew up watching.
All is not lost. I think the NBA is slowly working its way back to that 80’s vibe, with star players like LeBron James, Kobe Bryant, Dwyane Wade and star-studded teams like the Pistons. With that in mind, here are some early playoff awards, a.k.a. ‘I Love the 80’s: NBA Playoffs 2006’.
The “I Wanna Be Sedated” Award to the possibility of Spurs-Pistons Part Deux.
Sure, the 'Stones and the Spurs are fundamentally sound and team oriented—that’s great, except it made for one of the most boring, un-exciting Finals in the past twenty-five years last season. The Finals were uglier and more frightening than the Tom Cruise-Katie Holmes era. With that in mind…
“Sweet Dreams Are Made of This” Award for Best Finals Match-up for fans and media to: Lakers-Cavs. With a match-up like this, the league and the fans would get exactly what they’ve longed for and the media would be able to write epic pieces about Kobe vs. LeBron. It would be a classic series between two superstars not seen truly since 1991's Magic vs. Michael. Hey, a guy can “dream” can’t he?
Suns-Nets would offer scores like 130-122 in OT. It’s the anti-2005 Finals. Just think of Jason Kidd against Steve Nash, the two best point guards (Chris Paul aside) in the NBA, going at each other. What would be the over/under on combined assists between the two of them? 30? 35? How about the amount of combined dunks from Shawn Marion and Vince Carter? J
ust a terrific potential series between two teams who run up and down the court like Steve Prefontaine--and have no interior presence what-so-ever.
Lakers-Heat—Why not just combine the 80’s and the present? Miami Vice meets Showtime. Riley vs. Jackson. Is there a need to even point out the massive ratings boost the Finals would receive if it were Shaq and the Heat against Kobe and the Lakers? New Shaq sidekick against old Shaq sidekick. East coast L.A. vs. West coast L.A. I’d even hire the ringside announcers from Rocky IV to call this series. I can hear them now, as Shaq and Kobe stare each other down following Luke Walton assuming the old role of Kurt Rambis and tackling Dwyane Wade: “ It’s a gutter war!” In fact, if I’m running ‘The Ocho’ one day, I’m putting them as my number two announcing team, right behind Cotton McKnight and Pepper Brooks.
If the NBA wants to go NCAA Tournament/George Mason Cinderella on us, we could have Clippers-Wizards in the Finals. What better story than two former pathetic teams that are young and energetic; who entertain and can score. Give Gilbert Arenas a national stage in order for everyone to see him as the Top 10 player he is. Picture, if you dare, Sam Cassell doing the ‘Giant Gonads’ dance after a big fourth quarter three. Now that’s fan-tastic.
“The Future’s So Bright, I Gotta Wear Shades” Award to LeBron James for Best New Artist.
On Saturday, I thought I saw a reincarnation of Magic Johnson and Michael Jordan in the body of one LeBron James. Never heard of him before, but apparently the kid can play basketball. He’s the first person since Bird or Magic that has an actual chance to average a triple-double at some point in his career. But these playoffs are really about his chance to make ‘The Jump’ to another level, that being success in the postseason. He handles the ball; he rebounds; he passes—oh, and he scores. The way he changes pace and his court vision are the primary reason that King James was able to drop a 32-11-11 triple double. With perspective, all it did was give the Cavs a 1-0 series lead against the Wiz, so this wasn’t Magic against the Sixers in the ’80 Finals—but it’s a great way to start. James also won the “You Can Do Magic” Award by the band America in a similar category.
The “Dancing With Myself” Award to Kobe Bryant in the Lakers-Suns Series.
As a Lakers fan, I’m dreading this series if Kobe doesn’t start being Kobe—like Kevin being forced to bunk with Wet-The-Bed-Cousin Fuller in Home Alone 2. This could go one of two ways—the Lakers are either getting blown out of the water or winning this series. Think about it: do you want to let Kobe get to a seventh game? Me neither. And why? Because he’s put up 39, 37, 51 and 43 against Phoenix this season.
But on Sunday, with the Lakers trailing throughout the game, keeping it close throughout, I was surprised to see Kobe defer to team mates Luke Walton and Lamar Odom—which hasn’t been done since those two were in college. C’mon Kobe, don’t think you’re fooling us—we all know you’re “Hungry Like The Wolf.”
The “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” Award to David Stern for the NBA’s outdated and useless playoff rules.
Stern rules the NBA with an iron fist not seen since Stalin. He’s certainly the supreme ruler of the NBA and we get that. But can someone explain to me why the playoff seeding formula is more difficult to figure out than the math equations from Good Will Hunting? The Clippers absolutely tank its last couple games, drop to the sixth seed, but host a playoff series against a divisional champ with a worse record? In the words of Dr. Evil, “Rrriiiigggghhhttt.” Ditch the division winner ranks ahead of regular season record stuff, pronto.
Plus, if the playoffs were any longer, we’d be staring at an end date of mid-July. Seriously, my daughter was in the womb for shorter than this—TNT's got 7 games in 7 weeks after the first round is over. One of the NBA’s worst moves with regard to the playoffs was making the first round a seven game series. There’s a lost sense of urgency in the 7-7-7-7 format. Theoretically, a team could play 28 playoff games—that’s not a playoff, that’s more than a third of the regular season.
The “Every Rose Has Its Thorn” Award to the Pistons for “most unlikely but likely happening” in the playoffs.
Simply put, the Pistons have gone over three full NBA seasons without losing one major starter or role player to injury. That’s over 300 games without being bitten by the injury bug (while benefiting heavily from an injury to Karl Malone in 2004 and Dywane Wade last year). Stuff like that doesn’t happen in the NBA for this long, so guess what? The basketball Gods seem to really enjoy music from the ’70’s. Their favorite song? Instant Karma, of course.
