For the Miami Heat to win its first NBA Championship, it needed the man who built the franchise into a contender over a decade ago. The Heat needed a monumental effort and a rainmaker to take over during the season and lead the troops to victory.
It needed Pat Riley. It needed him to fine tune his coaching, managerial and motivational skills, and to show that the old dog had the foresight to know he needed new tricks to win in this era of the NBA.
While Dwyane Wade stamped his name on the MVP trophy and became one of the best players in Finals history, Riley was the puppeteer pulling the strings on Wade’s supporting cast. By blending in fading superstars, a rising megastar, role players and cast-offs, he not only brought them together, but managed to finally bring a victory parade down Biscayne Boulevard.
And it was perhaps one of the best coaching jobs in NBA history. This championship wasn’t like the four Riley won as head coach of the Los Angeles Lakers, which boasted one of the greatest lineups ever with Magic Johnson, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and James Worthy—this was a true challenge. From bringing in Shaq, Jason Williams, Gary Payton and Antoine Walker to controversially replacing Stan Van Gundy, the pressure to succeed in South Beach grew with each passing game over the past seven months.
This championship wasn’t about redemption for Pat Riley—he doesn’t need it with his resume. It was about proving that who’s coaching still matters.
Just look at some of his work—getting Walker to play defense and not just jog three-point line to three-point line, and convincing Gary Payton to play more like a role player than “the player”, as well as come off the bench and contribute to a total team effort.
Riley got Jason Williams to play less like White Chocolate and more like a Starbucks decaf latte. He tapped Alonzo Mourning’s one kidney for more production than anyone thought possible. He managed the ego of a declining Shaquille O’Neal. And most importantly, he convinced a group of savvy veterans that Dwyane Wade should be the captain of the ship, not just a passenger.
While they were handing out awards in the post-game, they should have given Riley an honorary PhD in motivational psychology. In a sports world where so many struggle mentally with the game they play, his psychological management of this team and his motivational tactics proved that he always believes and never doubts.
There was the bowl that had been sitting in the middle of the Heat locker room throughout the playoffs, covered by a shroud of mystery. Only the players and coaches knew what was inside—and it wasn’t Stan Van Gundy’s head. Riley revealed that the bowl included over 150,000 small cut-out cards of the Larry O’Brien trophy. They signified the end goal of the team and that the Heat were composed of “15 strong”.
“People don’t know how much they wanted to win. Every day, I would bring in a bunch, dump them in, Shaq would bring them in. It was about 15 strong, the Heat, the players and their wives, after all we’d heard about team chemistry and guys not working together...it was about faith,” Riley said.
In making them believe, he convinced an eclectic group of players with varying backgrounds and ages in a cynical league of selfish athletes to come together for the ultimate goal—a championship.
The players said Riley offered all of his rings so they could win this one. Who wouldn’t want to play for that guy? How many coaches can pinpoint to their teams which day they’ll win the title?
“The great Pat Riley told me we were going to win today. He told us on 6/8 that we would win it on 6/20…Pat Riley is the best coach I ever had,” Shaquille O’Neal said amidst the celebration.
He earned the respect of his players and got them to buy into his system—perhaps the most difficult thing for a coach to do in professional sports. It showed on the court as they played defense, jumped on loose balls and consistently out rebounded Dallas—something that hadn’t been done against the Mavericks in the entire playoffs. And it showed after the final buzzer, when each Heat player individually hugged Riley to show their appreciation.
It took Riley’s kind of toughness to become only the third team in NBA history to win the Finals after being down 0-2. When the series shifted to Miami after two bad losses in Dallas, Riley changed the team’s mentality. For the next four games, the Heat played like Rambo: aggressive on defense, attacking on offense and physical on both ends, relentless and driven. In contrast, the Mavericks played back on its heels, almost trying to solve a mystery like Colombo: attempting to figure out all the angles, but running out of time at the end of the show.
In many ways, the Heat are the embodiment of Pat Riley, realizing as a group that the window of opportunity was closing, that they needed and wanted a championship more than they wanted the individual recognition. Even when it appeared the Heat couldn’t find themselves, their leader knew who they were and what they could do.
For the first time in 18 years, Pat Riley tasted championship champagne Tuesday night. And it never tasted so sweet. Maybe Pat Riley needed this, but the Heat needed him more.
“It’s not over,” said Dwyane Wade after Game 4 of the NBA Finals.
“It’s a different series now, 2-2,” Shaquille O’Neal said of the Miami Heat’s 98-74 blowout win over the Dallas Mavericks Thursday night.
Both statements ooze arrogance and confidence, spurred by the sudden and dramatic momentum swing which could be seen in nearly every aspect of Game 4. My friends used to call it “Uncle Mo” before any big game—and they’d say he was coming for a visit.
During the first two games in Dallas, it appeared that Miami was overwhelmed and wouldn’t be seeing Uncle Mo anytime soon. The Heat were stagnant on offense and defense. Shaq looked like he was closer to Dunkin' Donuts than to dunking the ball. Pat Riley looked out of his element and outwitted by Avery Johnson. The Heat bench was reduced to a cheerleading section—except there wasn’t much to cheer about.
The shift that began at the end of Game 3, the balance of power, the momentum and the confidence so desperately needed in a seven game series of this magnitude, was officially Miami’s at the end of Game 4.
The evidence of this was everywhere last night. Wade put in 36 points, giving him a total of 78 in the past two games, while playing on an strained knee—which could've just as easily been due to him carrying the Heat to the Game 3 win as it could have from Shaq falling into his legs. Without his ability to penetrate and explode to the basket, he took advantage of Dallas’ sagging perimeter defense and drilled jump shots all night as if he were shooting in an empty gym. In fact, sometimes he was that open—like the inbounds play he took with one second on the shot clock early in the fourth quarter and banked the ball in as the buzzer sounded.
But getting Shaq more involved was an important key if Miami truly wanted to get back into the series. He finally had a solid game in the Finals with a 17-point, 13-rebound double-double. Along with those numbers, Shaq dished out 3 assists by passing out of double teams to find an open man. For whatever reason, whether it was the hard foul by Jerry Stackhouse (to which Shaq said in the post-game press conference, “My impression was my daughters tackle me harder when I come home”) or his reborn ability to execute a quick baseline spin move, for O’Neal Game 4 was “The Big Motivator”.
Aside from its two superstars, Miami got nice contributions from its bench. Reserve guard/forward James Posey had 15 points and 10 rebounds in 26 stellar minutes that featured a back-breaking three-pointer with a little over seven minutes to go that pushed the Heat lead to 15. Alonzo Mourning chipped in 4 points, 6 rebounds—but his most important stat was three intimidating blocks.
Somehow Pat Riley convinced Antoine Walker to play intelligently, play defense and not hoist so many shots (he didn’t even attempt his first three-pointer until the opening moments of the second half). Seeing Walker breaking up passes and tallying two steals and a block is nothing short of miraculous—like watching a lazy friend with bad pick-up lines get a job, a haircut and a girlfriend in one day.
Even the “White Hot” Miami crowd came to the arena with a purpose, taunting Mavericks star Dirk Nowitzki with cutouts of David Hasselhoff’s face and chanting the singer/actor’s name every time Nowitzki shot a free throw. For all we know, that could have been the psychological ploy that forced Dirk to shoot just 2-14 from the field.
With its confidence rising, Miami is taking full advantage of the Mavs misfortunes. Because as quickly as Dallas built that momentum in the first two games of the series, it has been lost in the last two. Everything’s flipped. Its superstar has a case of the shooting shanks, as Shaq did in Dallas. Its coach looks confused, as Pat Riley early on in the series. And its young team appears as though they have stage fright.
The overall energy and attitude of the Heat seemed to intimidate the Mavs in Game 4. Miami’s zone defense appeared to affect Dallas nearly every time Pat Riley ran it—and the constant switching from man to zone left the Mavs scorers’ unable to get into rhythm. Due to this, the Mavericks appeared flustered and edgy; it shot just 31% from the field—including just 3-22 from three-point land.
And the Mavericks certainly won’t enter Game 5 on a high note after setting the record for lowest points in the 4th quarter in NBA Finals history with 7.
Momentum does funny things: it has Dallas licking its wounds, trying to figure out what went wrong; while it has Jason Kapono in the last minute of the game because Miami’s up by so many there’s no way the scrubs can blow it.
Momentum doesn’t care about Miami’s continued troubling pattern of turnovers, offensive fouls and overall lack of transition defense. But it does care about Dallas getting four offensive rebounds in one possession, coming away with nothing and looking intimidated.
It cares about who wants it most; not who tries to hold onto it. Momentum loves to be pursued.
The past several seasons we tried to pretend the NBA Finals were important because it was The Finals. Except it wasn’t the Finals anymore—it was like watching a balloon go flat. Pretending the NBA Finals mattered was just something we became accustomed to; it was like a chore to watch, instead of an event that we had to see.
With the Dallas Mavericks and Miami Heat advancing to the Finals, this is a series that the league and the fans can care about again. Nobody has to pretend anymore. To the league, it’s about ratings. To the fans, it’s about the entertaining ride two compelling teams can take us on. And for both, it’s about Shaq.
For the first time in a long time, the NBA Finals matter again.
If TV ratings are any indication, NBA fandom dreaded another Pistons-Spurs Championship slowdown—er, showdown. The TV ratings tell the story. In 2005, Game 1—which along with Game 7, should be the most watched games of the series-- drew a rating just under 9.
Historically, the Finals have always been a ratings draw for the NBA, roughly averaging somewhere in the neighborhood of 12-14 million viewers per series over the past 25 years. Until 2003, which drew a 6.5 rating for the Spurs and Nets, the last Finals to receive a rating under 10 was 1981—when the series drew a 6.7 rating and were shown on late night tape delay.
What these ratings say is “who cares about Tim Duncan and his fundamentals”? As impressive as he is, as good of a team as the Spurs are, no one wants to watch them isolate Duncan on the low block while the rest of his teammates stand around waiting for him to be double-teamed. And as much as we praise the team chemistry of the Pistons, no one wants to see them play hard-nosed defense and win games 80-75.
If we really wanted to watch these things, we’d check out a high-school game. But this is the NBA. This is the Finals. We want dunks. We want Magic skyhooks in the lane with five seconds left and finding out the Mailman truly doesn’t deliver on Sundays. We want coaches adjusting game plans and playing mind games with one another, working the sidelines with flair.
TV ratings are a reflection of how interested people are in who’s playing, not the NBA. By all indications, fans want to see something entertaining—not just NBA basketball. David Stern has always talked about the NBA as an entertainment product. Well, the product has been as entertaining as watching a Chia pet grow the past few years.
But all that changes on Thursday. The Dallas Mavericks and Miami Heat are anything but boring. Each of these teams is making its first appearance ever in the Finals.
It almost feels like the next week or two won’t be nearly enough time to discuss all the terrific subplots to this series—like Pat Riley’s return to the NBA’s definitive event by taking his third team to the Finals. Somewhere, Stan Van Gundy is on vacation, with his family, silently stewing. How about Mark Cuban taking the Mavericks to the NBA Finals with his new brand of ownership—let’s at least hope the Heat don’t win a Game 7 based on a foul call; Cuban will review the tape for three months before sending in a lengthy review to the league and be fined $75,000 for criticizing the officials.
Furthermore, do we realize that all seven games will be played in an arena named after American Airlines, but in two different cities? Or about the possibility of Dwyane Wade being the first superstar from the 2003 Draft Class to win a title? Or that Dirk Nowitzki had to lose his two best friends, Steve Nash and Michael Finley before going to the Finals? What are the odds Dirk is seen holding the Larry O’Brien trophy with a “We are all Nowitnesses” t-shirt on?
There is an actual possibility that Antoine Walker, Jason Williams, Gary Payton or Jerry Stackhouse and Keith Van Horn could all win an NBA title. Just think about that for a moment.
Above all else the NBA Finals are reborn this year because of Shaquille O’Neal. Consider that Shaq is attempting to cement his status as one of the best centers ever. Or that he’s playing in the NBA Finals for a sixth time with his third team. Or that he’s trying to win his first championship without Phil Jackson and Kobe Bryant.
Plus, Shaq is one of the last connections the NBA has with its most famous players of the past. One day O’Neal will retire to a life of law enforcement and intimidating people pulled over for a speeding ticket. Until then, he’s remains a link between the NBA past of Bird, Jordan, Magic, the Dream Team and the NBA future of Wade, Dirk, LeBron and Kobe.
To bridge the gap between now and when the young stars take over completely, the NBA needs Shaq in the Finals. To help get through the growing pains of the young stars taking over, the fans need Shaq in the Finals. The Finals and the NBA are just better when Shaq is involved.
For the past several seasons, the NBA’s fans have been largely dissatisfied by a series that had lost its character. The indiscernible personality of the Finals hurt the league, its ratings and its fans. Instead of looking forward to the NBA Finals, we’d grown tired of it. The culmination of professional basketball was not only unwatchable—it wasn’t even interesting.
The Basketball Gods have rewarded us with these Playoffs and this Finals match-up as a gift for putting up with so much. New blood, more entertaining teams, more personality and more Shaq.
The NBA Finals have returned. But this year, it’s really back.
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…
After a wild weekend, which saw my wife and I buy our first home, my newborn daughter baptized, followed by Monday’s announcement and the subsequent turn of events in NGS II, I haven’t had time to collect my thoughts and put out an actual post about the NBA Playoffs.
In the spirit of that, here’s a bunch of things I’ve been collecting on an internal notepad the past few days and need to get them out. I’m fearful that if I don’t, I’m going to turn into a sports version of Ashton Kutcher in The Butterfly Effect.
Mavs-Spurs
–It was clear to from the first quarter of the Mavs-Spurs game who was should win. You just never know with the officiating these days if the right team will win. Don’t get me wrong, had the Spurs won, they would have semi-deserved it with that amazing run in the third and fourth quarter, but I was beginning to believe that David Stern, seated just rows away from Mark Cuban, really did have it in for him. Stern almost smiled at times (at least it seemed that way on TV) as the Spurs made their run back from 20 down. Cuban was glaring out the corner of his eye in Stern’s direction. Can we get a Stern-Cuban match as the main event at Wrestle Mania next year?
—Is there anyone who gets more calls, but complains more in big spots than Tim Duncan? Where were the fouls that they called on Dampier and Van Horn? Even when TNT was bold enough to show the replays, they weren’t there. The call on Van Horn in the 4th quarter, where his hands are straight up and Duncan moves into him is incredible. I must have rewound TiVo five times. I was speechless (probably because my wife, four year old son and baby daughter were all asleep). When Duncan commits the same fouls that are called on these guys, he complains every time. This reminds me…
—If this career in basketball doesn’t pan out, Duncan could always teach lessons to the Hollywood crowd on how to act surprised at their name being called during awards season with his “Who me?!? No…It..Can’t..Be…Me” Face.
—The Mavs first half was a thing of beauty, more impressive because it was the Dallas Mavericks of all teams, on the road, against the Spurs in a Game 7. Scoring on 14 of their first 16 possessions and shooting nearly 77% until about 2 minutes to go in the second quarter, it was one of the best Game 7 starts I’ve ever seen. They were playing in a different gear than San Antonio, from the out-of-bounds plays to defense, to loose balls—that first half set the tone and gave the Mavericks the confidence they needed late in the game.
—Did anyone else see the David Hasselhoff poster in the crowd during the game? Was that a Dirk Nowitzki fan? A family member? Does this in fact prove Norm MacDonald’s theory that Germans, indeed, love David Hasselhoff?
Suns-Clippers
—Just too magical to believe the Clippers could win, I guess. But it doesn’t help your cause when you play differently than you did most of the series. The Clippers had gone with a smaller lineup during their wins; a lineup which could get back down the floor on made shots and defend the perimeter well. Suddenly, Chris Kaman’s back logging significant minutes in Game 7. The Suns made him look like his feet were in concrete (which isn’t a difficult task).
—Where do the Clippers go from here? The ultimate crossroads for a downtrodden franchise is the year after it gets over the hump. So what do the Clippers do? Does Donald Sterling pony up again this summer for a couple key free agents like he did last summer? Does Elgin Baylor keep Cassell? It is conceivable that that Baylor, in a span of about three years could go from one of the ‘Worst Executives of the Year’ to ‘Executive of the Year’ to one of the ‘Worst Executives of the Year’. It all depends on the next five months.
—We’ll know everything we need to know about the Suns tonight in Game 1. Nash’s legs, their streaky shooting, their size difference to Dallas and if D’Antoni can match wits with Avery Johnson, because Gregg Popovich couldn’t. Dallas is a much different beast than the two L.A.’s. Now is when Phoenix needs Amare Stoudamire most.
Pistons-Heat
—About two weeks ago, I wrote about how Shaq had lost the 'eye of the tiger'. While I said Shaq wasn’t the dominate force he always was, he could be dominant every other game. I figured with all that rest from taking the Nets out in five games, he’d be a major force last night. But after watching the game, it’s even more clear to me that Dwyane Wade, Jason Williams, Antoine Walker and Co. have to carry this team. He was slow on defense—didn’t move his feet and got into foul trouble, only playing 29 minutes. This was in the face of a Pistons team that was a little tired from their seven-game series with the Cavs. If the Heat are going to win this series and the next, they need more from the Diesel in the games you can count on him at full strength (and to keep him away from guarding Detroit’s high screens.)
—I am anxiously waiting another “guaransheed” win for the Pistons in Game 2. It’s beyond comical.
—Still am not of the opinion that a win in the conference finals or a series win in the conference finals justifies Pat Riley booting out Stan Van Gundy. Not even winning an NBA Championship will do it. You just don’t treat “friends” like that.
There, it feels better to have emptied those thoughts--ready to work on the first finalist assignment now…and pack for the move…and change the baby’s diaper…
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.
Coming off the massive disappointment of somehow missing out on National High Five Day on Thursday—yes, I went without knowing about it and without so much as a “low-five”—I’m in an interesting frame of mind. The weekend is upon us, I found out my wife is being induced to have our daughter next Thursday and the NBA playoffs are here, so I’m happy. But there’s nothing that will get me “riled” up more than Pat Riley.
For some strange reason (or multiple ones), I can’t stand the head coach of the Miami Heat.
This in itself is amazing, considering the Los Angeles Lakers are my favorite team; I still salivate over footage from the Showtime Lakers of the 80’s, of which Riley was the architect of.
In a way, Riley is everything 80’s—even still—from the suits, to the hair right down to the yuppie attitude.
After forcing out Stan Van Gundy (whom we haven’t heard from since he left the Heat and can now be presumed to be lost in the Bermuda Triangle), Riley took over as Heat coach on “an interim basis”. In January, he went went so far as to say he wouldn't coach past this year.
Look, I understand he was tending to his ailing mother—and I wish the Riley family the best—but you tell everyone your coaching back to coach through a spokesman, after indicating heavily back in December that it was most likely a short term gig, that you would look for someone long term?
The way Riles announced it reminds me of an episode of The Office. Steve Carell was trying to help Dwight prepare for a speech and he was explaining sometimes it’s not what you say, but when and how you say it. It prompted Dwight to announce to the office that Brad Pitt had been killed in a horrifying car accident. Softly, before leaving the room, he also said that the bonuses promised to everyone weren’t happening. No one asked about it, they all were too worried about Brad Pitt.
That’s how Riley did it, how he’s always done it, with trickery. It’s always been a magic act with Pat Riley. Don’t pay attention to the right hand while he’s doing something with the left. The Heat are on the verge of the playoffs, possibly their best chance to win a title ever. Riley was gone tending to family business, and Larry Brown was taking headlines for his disappearing act in New York, the MVP debate—boom—that’s when Riley gets us, a little one sentence blurb from a spokesman; “oh, yeah, um, I’ll be back next season.”
If you don’t believe this hasn’t been planned with extreme effort and caution, you’re sadly mistaken—and you’d be playing right into Riley’s hands. From the moment he realized Shaquille O’Neal was available in the summer of 2004, Riley wanted in. He wanted Shaq, and then he wanted the sideline. But you can’t do that all at once—it has to be planned.
Or you could be forgetting that Riley could sell a ketchup popsicle to a woman in white gloves. He’s the ultimate motivator, the button pusher and 80’s yuppie. He’s the Gordon Gecko of coaching, and the NBA is his Wall Street.
He’s so good, he even convinced Stan the Man to smile and defend you as he quit. He even got Stan to disappear.
First, land Shaq, then, somewhere down the road; oust Van Gundy by using back channels with the players you brought in and the media to undermine his authority. Heck, float a rumor in the dead of summer, just to see what the reaction is.
Let yourself be quoted saying something like, “I may take a little bit more of an active, I think, participation in some of the things, but for the most part I’m content at doing what I’m doing.” Then, when the time presents itself, whisper in Van Gundy’s ear about “family” and “pressure”. For a top-off, act shocked that Van Gundy resigned. Five months later, announce your coming back for another season on the bench. It's masterful; it's brilliant.
If that’s not how it happened, he must have had some dirt on Stan being a double for Ron Jeremy, threatened to expose him and that was that.
See, Van Gundy was on the verge of making Riley obsolete; forgotten. In just two seasons as Heat head coach, Van Gundy had won 17 postseason games, 2nd all-time in Heat history to only Riley’s 18. His postseason and regular season win percentages, .605, are Miami’s best all-time. Riles can’t have that—he’s a legend, remember?
Now what I want to know is why doesn’t Riley just admit who he is and take a little credit for it—c’mon, it is impressive. Just tell us the truth, Riles, you know you want to. Maybe if you come clean about this scheme, you'll get some belated high fives.
UPDATE: Since this was posted, Pat Riley's mother has passed away. With deepest simpathies to him and his family, let me clarify this is not a personal attack on Riley during this difficult time, just my assessment of the way he's handled his position with the Heat.
(To view this post with pictures and links to the stat pages, please visit http://sportswithmoore.blogspot.com)
Dear NBA MVP Voters:
For your MVP consideration, may I submit the name of Shawn Marion, a.k.a. "The Matrix". I see no reason why Marion can't be considered a legitimate MVP candidate. Let's continue the trend from last year and get out of our one dimensional minds, where we only choose players like Tim Duncan and Shaquille O'Neal. Step into the multi-dimensional game of the Matrix.
The Matrix sees things in numbers and I hope you will too. As voters, you often see things that aren't there, such as superstardom before it's actually achieved. Marion has earned his place among the best, as proven by his World Basketball Championship try-out invitation. If you see the numbers falling in green, you see the Matrix' impact on the Phoenix Suns is as important as Steve Nash's.
For the season, Marion is throwing out multi-dimensional, MVP stats: 22.0 ppg, 12.4 rbg (2nd best in the NBA), 1.98 steals per game (5th best in NBA) while playing the fourth most minutes in the NBA. He's shooting nearly 52% from the field--as a undersized power forward who can play low and shoot the three. The guy ranks first in the NBA in double-doubles. According to the NBA efficiency ratings, he's the third most efficient player in the league.
Don't know if you've been paying attention lately, but the Matrix is revolutionizing the West. He was the Western Conference Player of the Month in February, where he averaged 24.2 points, 13.9 rebounds and 2.5 steals per game. To top that off, he shot 53.8% from the field.
Look at his recent games: 44 points, 15 rebounds and 4 steals against Boston on February 22nd. He shot 68% from the field and went 10-10 from the foul line. Marion followed that up three days later with 31 points and 24 rebounds against Charlotte then had 30 and 18 against Houston. Last night? He merely put up 29 and 18, with 3 assists and 3 blocks against Milwaukee.
I hear the chants for Kobe and LeBron. And I agree, they're all in the running and rightly so. It's not that I'm endorsing Marion for MVP completely. I just want you to consider it. If you have a list of five on your ballot, put the Matrix before guys like Shaq and Duncan--they don't deserve it out of rep.
Honestly, have you seen the way Shaq labors up and down the court? There he is, getting out-blocked by Samuel Dalembert. I saw Raef LaFrentz beat him up court the other night against Boston. Paul Peirce and Delonte West drove straight to the bucket without so much as a sniff of Diesel fumes in the lane. For the past four years, you all consider Shaq a viable MVP candidate, but he openly admits to taking time off--mentally and otherwise--in order to prepare for the "real" season (the playoffs). The MVP is about more than that.
Now, the question is will you take Shawn Marion seriously? Or will he be forgotten because he's Steve Nash's team mate and therefore possibly a product of The Nash. Sometimes it takes better team mates and solid guard play to fully appreciate a front court player. So should some of the credit for Marion's success not go to Nash? Of course. But tell me, did Shaq win any of his MVP's without Kobe? How about Tim Duncan without Tony Parker or David Robinson?
I'll be one of the first to admit I haven't paid too much attention to Shawn Marion (besides the highlight reel dunks) since he came into the league out of UNLV. He was the classic skinny tweener, but his stats are anything but in between. He's a high energy guy. He's a defensive terror and could be the heart and soul of the team's fast paced attack because he can play nearly any position on the floor. He may shoot a little weird and dunk too much for your taste, but you probably don't have the greatest shooting form in your rec league, either.
In closing, I beg the voters of the NBA MVP to be bold. Consider all your options. Don't limit yourselves to the same batch of players year after year; be open to an Elton Brand, Gilbert Arenas or Shawn Marion. Become one with the Matrix.
P.S.--If you're still confused about your Rookie of the Year, I hope you saw that Chris Paul averaged 17.2 points and 9.5 assists last month--the first rookie to do that in ten years.
As we head to the weekend, there are
some major Sports stories that are flying under the radar right now,
what with the Wayne Gretzky/Janet Jones Gretzky/Rick Tocchet gambling probe, the Olympics
(snooze), and the fact that we're still reeling from the perplexing Al
Michaels for Oswald the Rabbit trade between Disney and NBC yesterday.
Oh, and how can we forget the disturbing news that David Hasselhoff is the new pitchman for Pepsi...in Australia. I'll have a Coke, please.
Anyway, here's four things we should be focusing on:
1) Feel The Heat. Can
someone explain to me that after all that fuss made about Pat Riley
ousting Stan Van Gundy more attention isn't being focused on the fact
Shaq, D-Wade and Co. are
struggling mightily? Sure, they look great in the Eastern Conference,
but if the Mavericks 112-76 'beat down' of the Heat proves anything,
it's that Miami's a long way away from legit title contenders.
My
main problem with this, since lots of teams are basically pretenders to
the Spurs and Pistons, is I don't understand how this is acceptable for
the Heat. They were one win away from the Finals, right? Yet they blew
up the ship and took on ego-centric and streaky players like Jason
Williams and Antoine Walker. They took an aging (and increasingly insane) Gary Payton over keeping a stable guy like Damon Jones. Maybe there were money factors in it--but not if you can take on Walker's contract.
So why isn't more being made of this? The Heat were supposed to be right up there with the Spurs and Pistons--but they got waxed by the Mavs last night,
lost by 13 to New Jersey last Saturday, 18 to Phoenix and by 15 to the
Hornets, both last month. If it wasn't for the fact the Heat get to
play Orlando (19 wins), Atlanta (15 wins) and Charlotte (14 wins) in
the terrible Southeast Division multiple times this year, I'm not sure
where they'd be.
Furthermore, I don't know how Pat Riley expects
this team to get better. They're an old roster for about everybody but
Wade, Williams still makes mistakes handling the ball and Shaq's
going to break down. During a key ten game stretch at the end of the
season for playoff seeding purposes (end of March to early April),
Miami plays Detroit twice, Indiana, Cleveland, New Jersey, Milwaukee
and Washington. Keep on eye on this.
2) Raiders of the Lost Art. Really? This is what it's come to for Al Davis
and the Oakland Raiders head coaching search? Art Shell? Let's do a fan
poll to pick what his new slogan should be. Instead of 'Just Win,
Baby', should he go with: a) Just Go With Your Fifth Choice, Baby! b)
Just Grovel baby! c) Just Recycle An Old Coach Baby!
Seriously,
they're throwing ridiculous amounts of money at Louisville head coach
Bobby Petrino (last reported at $18 million over 5 years), who has turned them down three times. Super Bowl winning Offensive Coordinator Ken Whisenhunt said he wants to stay with the Steelers. Something's not right here.
Who turns down an NFL job AND $18 million to stay at...Louisville?
For
the two weeks leading up to the Super Bowl, the rumors were persistent
that the Raiders wanted to interview Whisenhunt. He met with them
Wednesday, it reportedly went 'good', which is to say that Whisenhunt
was scared off and would rather continue to call plays for someone
else's team than run his own
with a talent like Randy Moss. For a team that loves offensive "gurus"
like Bill Callahan and Norv Turner, how could they pine after
Whisenhunt and let him get away?
Now the Raiders are talking to
Art Shell, the former Raiders player and coach who went 56-41
(including playoffs) from 1989-1994. His reign was highlighted by a
trip to the AFC Championship in 1990. But Davis fired him in '94.
Suddenly, after 12 years, Shell looks good again? Davis may end up
making the right choice for coach, because Shell was good before, but
he's turning the once proud Raider franchise into an NFL mockery.
3) Roger, We Copy.
I could be one of the few Red Sox fans who has previously stated I
would, regrettably, be ok with Roger Clemens returning to Boston
because at this stage in his career, he's that old guy you root for.
Time has passed. Wounds aren't healed, but it's easier to remember that
then GM Dan "The Duke" Duquette ran him out of town more so than we
remember he played terribly out of shape for the three years prior to.
Now,
I'm having second thoughts with my feelings towards it, even as the Sox
appear to be pulling out all the stops to grab Roger's attention.
First, it was the DVD to prove fans would accept his return. Then it
was the news that Boston would be more than willing to let Roger stay
away from the park on days he doesn't pitch so he can spend time with
family. I'm torn here. Part of me says that baseball franchises
shouldn't push away a player who's 43 and still better than 98% of the
other pitchers in the league because he wants some time with the kids.
But another part of me thinks this is terrible for the Red Sox
chemistry, which was so good a few years ago because they finally broke
the "25 guys-25 cabs" routine in the clubhouse.
Clemens has
power and he knows it. He picks where he plays and what he'll make and
what the circumstances will be. And maybe he's earned that. Or maybe
it's an ego trip. The Yankees and Sox, along with the Rangers and
Astros are in contact with Clemens agent Randy Hendricks. Though
Clemens has said he won't make any decisions anytime soon, you can bet
Janet Gretzky's Super Bowl wager that Roger and his agent are in
contact, and he's calling all the shots. Stay tuned.
4) Outgrown The West Coast?
Is it legal for Gonzaga to change conferences? They're way too big for
the WCC and could be easily added to the Pac-10. It would serve as a
bonus for all involved. The WCC would get their NCAA bid back, since it
goes to Gonzaga every year. The Pac-10 would be strengthened overall.
Gonzaga would play better teams and benefit even more in recruiting--I
really don't see a downside to this. Am I too late on this idea?
Someone else already pointed this out?
I'll be on a business trip until Thursday evening, so there won't be any new columns for a week. Try to cope.
C'mon. What's this all about? Shaq and Kobe getting along? I don't believe it. I don't want to believe it. That's about as likely as the Colts winning a playoff game and Peyton Manning not blaming everyone else for the lost. By the way, does anyone think that Archie Manning defending his sons on national radio, he sounds exactly like Dr. Phil?
Speaking of Dr. Phil, it appears that he had an emotional one on one sit-down with The Big Aristotle himself, Shaquille O'Neal. "Search inside yourself, Diesel. This feud must end."
Actually, Shaq says Bill Russell approached him with the idea of Kobe Appeasement in a conversation with the former Celtics great while the Heat were in Seattle recently. "I had orders from the great Bill Russell..." says Shaq, "and he told that I should shake Kobe's hand and let bygones be bygones and bury the hatchet."
Great. Just what the NBA needs when it's only budding rivalry (sorry, Pacers/Pistons) is in need of a classic battle. David Stern and Co. were setting it up perfectly: Heat vs. Lakers in the NBA Finals. Old Shaq Sidekick vs. New. Phil vs. Riles. East Coast Glamour vs. West Coast Glamour. It had all the makings.
And it just fizzled with a half court hug and hand-pound. Why end it now, anyway? What's really behind it? I have a hard time believing that Shaq really wanted to end it because of Martin Luther King Day and the advice of Bill Russell. It looks a little too well orchestrated. Shaq's always wanted to stand above the game and by him being the one to end the feud--a feud which to my recollection Kobe said never really existed--then he assures that his place in history will be of the one who ended this thing.
But again, I ask: why?
If it was simply that easy to end the most boring, yet somehow most attention grabbing feud in recent NBA history, could there really have not been that much behind it? What's Shaq got to be mad about anyway? He won three titles, turned old and got kicked to the curb in L.A. for a younger model. Didn't he basically try to do the same thing to Penny in Orlando?
For as much as Kobe's at fault for his immaturity and his comments, why was Shaq always proclaiming it was his team? This wasn't the Bulls. It wasn't that obvious to the rest of the world that the Lakers were really always Shaq's team like the Bulls were always Jordan's. The Lakers were more of a partnership. Besides, can it be your team when you aren't the one who's going to get the ball with twenty seconds to go? When your team doesn't want to you to be fouled and going to the free throw line where you shoot an un-Superman like 48% at any given moment?
Kobe Bryant is a selfish guy, let's not forget that. He did his share of shooting with Shaq and with the increase in his share of shooting since O'Nea, it would certainly led us to believe that he doesn't mind the big fella being gone.
Maybe these two are just made because they realized, in their stupidity, what they threw away. Shaq's got himself into a prima donna pickle in Miami much worse than at any time in L.A. with Kobe and Phil, what with Riley on the sidelines and Walker, Payton and Williams on the court with him. Kobe's feeling the drain of triple teams and shooting it 40 times a game.
This"newfound" respect for one another makes me see a similarity between Shaq-Kobe and Days of Thunder. Remember when Harry Hogg asks Cole Trickle why he wants to run Rowdy's car at Daytona? These words ring out in my head from that scene: "Why?!? For Rowdy? If he could run tomorrow, he'd crash you to win the race. He's no particular friend." It's the same thing here. If Shaq could win a title tomorrow, he'd rub it in Kobe's face and vice versa. And this relationship isn't as good as the car-crashing friendship of Cole and Rowdy.
Truth is, maybe Shaq's the one ending this feud because he sees the end of his NBA career is near. Sure, he had 38 points in the 100-92 loss to Bryant's Lakers--but the proof was in the pudding, so to say. He was burnt on baseline spin moves by Andrew Bynum and Chris Mihm. I'd repeat that for effect, but I'm not sure I have to. He became frustrated enough that he took a swing at Bynum. Bynum's an eighteen year old rookie. Shaq should have known better than to get in a meaningless tussle with a meaningless player--the Lakers get the better end of the deal if Shaq's off the court because of an ejection in that situation.
Shaq's never been labeled "The Big Mobility", but he still had great feet for a big man, not so long ago. Now he reaches desperately on defense, commits lazy fouls and still misses free throws. If he wasn't Shaq, he'd probably be benched for most of the 4th quarter in every game. He's now "The Big 4th Quarter Liability".
Shaq's missing three and four foot shots that he used to take that extra step and slam the ball down, lifting his legs up and trotting down the floor like a bunny rabbit. Sure, he's older, heavier and losing his leaping ability--but that comes with it. He's more often hurt, but do we dare suggest it's because he's not keeping himself in good enough shape? No. He's Shaq. He'll be arresting you someday.
Kobe's shooting touch can sometimes be labeled "The Big Liability" as well. He rarely looks at teammates for an open look, as Bill Simmons said last week in a different capacity; it's the Teen Wolf syndrome. You remember how frustrated Michael J. Fox's teammates were with his passing and teammate qualities once "The Wolf" got big in the media? That's got to be the Lakers at this point. Lamar Odom, Devean George and Luke Walton aren't even going over to Kobe's after the game, and it isn't because of Vanessa. Phil Jackson's just as oblivious to his offense being derailed as the Beavers coach was in that movie. Actually, Phil does know--he's just got about $10 million reasons not to care.
But truth be told, Kobe's game is getting better. He sees things on the court that no one else can. He's scoring in ways we haven't seen in years while facing triple teams, zones and confusing defenses meant solely for holding him under 30 points. I've got respect for a guy who can drop 30 wh
As we head to the weekend, there are
some major Sports stories that are flying under the radar right now,
what with the Wayne Gretzky/Janet J
And it just fizzled with a half court hug and hand-pound. Why end it now, anyway? What's really behind it? I have a hard time believing that Shaq really wanted to end it because of Martin Luther King Day and the advice of Bill Russell. It looks a little too well orchestrated. Shaq's always wanted to stand above the game and by him being the one to end the feud--a feud which to my recollection Kobe said never really existed--then he assures that his place in history will be of the one who ended this thing.
This "newfound" respect for one another makes me see a similarity between Shaq-Kobe and Days of Thunder. Remember when Harry Hogg asks Cole Trickle why he wants to run Rowdy's car at Daytona? These words ring out in my head from that scene: "Why?!? For Rowdy? If he could run tomorrow, he'd crash you to win the race. He's no particular friend." It's the same thing here. If Shaq could win a title tomorrow, he'd rub it in Kobe's face and vice versa. And this relationship isn't as good as the car-crashing friendship of Cole and Rowdy.
Kobe's shooting touch can sometimes be labeled "The Big Liability" as well. He rarely looks at teammates for an open look, as Bill Simmons said last week in a different capacity; it's the Teen Wolf syndrome. You remember how frustrated Michael J. Fox's teammates were with his passing and teammate qualities once "The Wolf" got big in the media? That's got to be the Lakers at this point. Lamar Odom, Devean George and Luke Walton aren't even going over to Kobe's after the game, and it isn't because of Vanessa. Phil Jackson's just as oblivious to his offense being derailed as the Beavers coach was in that movie. Actually, Phil does know--he's just got about $10 million reasons not to care.