Jacob Mustafa: Holy Christums, Eric, this is why these guys waited so long to start the season: the NBA has no clue what the hell is going on (and nor do I). Tyson Chandler, David West and Lamar Odom, a guy who wasn’t even a free agent going into this three-week orgy of knee-jerk reactions we’re calling an offseason, have all essentially switched teams more than once in the past three days. Anyone over the height of 6’9″ has been signed to an offer sheet worth more than $10 million; Olden Polynice just bought a new Hummer, and they don’t even make those anymore. And Chris Paul hates David Stern almost as much as Dell Demps and Daryl Morey do. Speaking of our fair leader, I’ve appreciated his Frank White-esque mentality with regard to making trades, splashing the Rockets’ name on basically anything resembling a big deal. Can’t knock a man for trying to save his job, if not quite a team.

Eric Todd: Can’t knock Morey, but we sure can knock the NBA (ahem, David Stern/Dan Gilbert) for pressing its/their totalitarian boot(s) to the throats of three of its franchises for the sake of some vague agenda that reads more like the mob fixing boxing matches than a benevolent shepherd looking after a stray ewe. The problem with the party line is that the “basketball reasons” the league cited for nixing the deal imply that New Orleans was getting screwed, that the team could and should, for the best interest of the franchise and its fans, find a better deal, which, in my opinion, it probably can’t and even more probably won’t. Even disregarding the fallout for the Rockets and Lakers, the varied reports of the league’s/Stern’s motivation for vetoing the trade and the carelessly ambiguous language of its official press release set a frightening precedent and generally left a bad taste in my mouth as a fan, not only of the Rockets, but also of the entire NBA.

JM: It definitely felt like Stern shoved something unseemly down our throats. I’m not entirely sure that were Stern trying to procure the best deal for Paul, the one made Thursday wasn’t the best offer; however, the talent sent to the Hornets seemed the least of Stern’s, or Gilbert’s or Cuban’s, concerns. Those men wanted to keep a top-five talent out of Los Angeles, which they did, unless playing for the Clippers counts as playing for Los Angeles (which it doesn’t). Stephon Curry, Eric Gordon and Rajon Rondo all seem like more attractive centerpieces of a deal than the spare parts the Rockets and Lakers sent Demps’ way before Generalissimo Stern called the whole thing off; too bad that never mattered. The only thing I’m left wondering is exactly what does matter to the Commish (no offense to Michael Chiklis, who at this point has a far better reputation than Stern). Is it good PR? A safe journey to the top for some Western symbol of light and goodness to combat the Satan incarnate that resides in Miami, unobstructed by a new powerhouse in purple and gold? Some salvation for his filth-encrusted, malodorous bathroom mat of a reputation that just gets defiled more by the day?

ET: And the Rockets? The team we love/are here to write about, where does all this leave our hopes? Reports are that Houston put an offer sheet out on Marc Gasol yesterday. Wouldn’t it have been a nice incentive to have already had his brother in tow? But alas, what we’re left with are a pair of ego-bruised borderline all-stars (who’ve never actually been) and a pitch to a player that Memphis will more than likely match. So the team is exactly where it started, only more dysfunctional, like a couple who separate because of infidelity only to get back together for the sake of their children. What if Morey doesn’t pull off any trades or free agent signings at all? Won’t Houston just end up exactly where its been for the past two years, at the top of the trash heap, too good for a decent draft pick but not good enough to actually compete? What about trading Martin to Utah for Paul Milsap or Scola to Toronto for draft picks? (Also, how sad/angry are you that we lost Chuck Hayes? Personally, I blame Stern for that, too.)

JM: Eventually, we can all get back at Stern for all of the messy divorces and broken homes he’s caused in the last week, but you’re more than right when you note the absolute lack of regard with which the league office and Stern treated Houston. The Rockets’ meddling, endless planning proved that chess is far less predictable than the irrationalities of a madman in charge of an entertainment enterprise fell apart at their very seams, a wadded ball of beautiful stitching that just couldn’t withstand the endless undulations of Hurricane Stern. So we’re left minus a mini-hero in Chuck Hayes, minus a couple of Gasols (most likely), minus a big, seemingly interested Brazilian warrior/efficient post-scorer/cancer survivor, minus an identity or a sense of cohesion or anything resembling a well constructed team. All thanks to some unintelligible reasoning by an old, power-mad man and a lot of bad breaks, of which not the greatest understanding of game theory (and I most certainly do not possess that) could have prepared any of us. Maybe it’s all for the best (what other platitudes do Rockets followers have to placate themselves with at this point?), as this might jumpstart a true rebuilding process, one that’ll send off our tradeable assets (as you mentioned, Scola and Martin) in order to lead to draft picks and cap space and sugarplums and non-drug-induced-euphoria. The Rockets were so keen on taking wild chances just a few days ago; we can only hope Morey has the foresight, or fortitude, to take this one.

Eric Todd: If you believe the reports (which in light of how much media posturing there has been up to this point, how can you completely?), it looks like we might not see an NBA game until January or later.

Watching (reading about) all this from afar, I can’t help but in some way relate it to the larger social/political unrest that has befallen the country in recent weeks. The timing is just too perfect.

Now, this isn’t to say I feel there is some grave injustice being perpetrated on the players. To be clear, everyone involved in this mess has a thousand times more money and opportunity than I will see in ten lifetimes. There are no have-nots in this particular play.

Nevertheless, it’s just hard not to see this in terms of workers vs. management, a game that management has never lost and thus one in which they must necessarily play the villain.

Personally, I’m not sure how to feel right now. Depending on the moment, I’m torn between wild, directionless fury and crushing ennui.

Jacob Mustafa: There’s no in between for me, as I am concurrently mainlining both of those feelings right about now.  Yeah, all of the politics of this remind me of a million fruitless labor disputes, even if this union holds a lot more leverage than most unions and even most NBAPAs before it, and this evokes the memory of this year’s labor dispute in Wisconsin, where a privileged union was taken out behind the shed and quickly robbed of all of its rights (and the leader of said movement, or its figurehead at very least, Governor Scott Walker, finds his name synonymous with “recall” in his state, a fate that generally befalls such short-sighted, aggressive union-busters. Hmm…).

But **** that noise. I just want some damn basketball. How in the hell did we get to this point, this degree of impasse in which both sides look more quickly to court the media’s favor than actually get a product back out to their consumers? When did basketball forget anything resembling its beauty and decide to replace all of its aesthetic grace with the most abhorrent, most callous aspects of politics? This entire lockout has forever teemed with sociopolitical implications and parallels that seemed ripe to be written when I could look back on all of this as that cataclysm that never happened. But now, given its gelid reality, the miserable feeling that comes when all of that protected muscle and bone and flesh become exposed to the singe of the horrible truth? I can barely speak, much less analyze.

Eric Todd: It does seem that we, the fans, are the real losers in this puerile dispute. With the uncertainty that surrounds so many of our lives and livelihoods recently, isn’t a healthy (or even unhealthy) distraction exactly what we need to keep our fragile optimism afloat? A reason, however frivolous, to be excited about waking up in the morning or coming home at night is still a reason, and for many of us, it’s a necessity.

It seems to me that that’s the major risk in all this, that people will just stop caring. Because just like all businesses, with no market, there can be no sales, so the longer the two sides squabble over money, the less money there will be for either to split.

Not that I care so much about their money mind you, but, to me, that’s just why all this makes so little sense. For the past several years, through all the foreboding talk of this apocalyptic lockout looming, I’ve never actually thought it would come. Especially after the end of last season, with ratings higher than they had been in over a decade and some of the most entertaining postseason storylines (let alone actual games) I can remember, I thought there would be no way. There would be no way the league would squander such momentum. There would be no way, no matter how much money either side wanted from the other, they would risk this kind of damage to their businesses and to the sport as a whole.

Obviously, I was just naïve, and all those who claimed the sky was about to fall were just looking up.

Jacob Mustafa: Even if you had seen it, would you have been able to truly understand? Or would you have just rubbed your eyes and hoped that it had been an apparition, the product of cynicism formed long before you’d ever heard of a Carmelo Rule or limited Bird Rights? No one could imagine that anyone would ever put a year (or more) of Chris Paul’s and LeBron James’ and Kevin Durant’s primes on the line, dangling in the balance as the grossly wealthy feel slighted by the even wealthier. No one ever could have believed that those guys would contribute to such a sin against the universe themselves. Yet here we are, with no one to blame but everyone involved. And no place to yell but into a pillow, as silently as we all are in our own collectively miserable fates, waiting with cash in hand to pay for a League Pass that will never come. Do you think Eurobasket’ll take my money?

Eric Todd: They absolutely will, and they’ll also gladly accept the NBA’s players and the profits they bring with them. To me that’s the biggest difference between this lockout and the last. In the past ten years, basketball has grown into a genuinely global phenomenon. The players can and will go play elsewhere. We’ve already seen them do it, even when there was an NBA season to be played. My fear is that if the owners don’t soon realize that they own a basketball business and not the business of basketball, the entire season could be lost, or even something worse.

Posted Up is an ongoing conversation between two friends, writers, and basketball enthusiasts:  Jacob Mustafa and Eric Todd.

In succeeding a future Hall-of-famer, Kevin McHale has big shoes to fill. Expectations will be high — Rick Adelman got the most out of his teams. But I’m confident about the staff. All indications are that McHale will be flanked by specialized strategists, allowing for a divvying up of the load. (With the glut of data available in today’s NBA, this ‘round-table’ approach is not only practical but perhaps even necessary if desiring to process information at optimal levels.)

Eric Todd: So it happened, just as we had all assumed it would: Carmelo Anthony is a Knick.  I for one could have and have been more excited about a good sandwich or a new pair of shoes.  I don’t want to suggest that all of this is not a big deal (excuse [or don’t] the pun), but I think the ‘big’ part of this deal is precisely the problem.  In watching the weeks and months of NBA coverage that somehow got us to this moment, the repeated clips of the same Melo interview, in which, cornered like a feral cat, he equivocates like the head of the CIA while wearing dark sunglasses indoors like a cool Cory Hart or a stoned rapper on Oprah, I couldn’t escape the feeling that all of this is strangling the life out of the thing I love, that just like last summer’s decisions we’re focusing on all the wrong things, that what I really want more than anything is a just little mystery.

Jacob Mustafa: In a respect, I agree that this league and its fans’ unfortunate preoccupation with trade talks and player movement in the wake of one of the best seasons in recent memory is troubling, but this is how we got here. The only reason that more than just you and me were geeked for the start of this season was that some guy acted like a jerk and left his old team (by the way, I’m not saying he was a jerk for leaving, just a jerk while he did it). Trade talks have become the mysterious, semi-embarrassing marquee matchup, a way for fans to still be judgmental and pedantic while simultaneously getting to giggle with glee when Bron Bron or Blake Griffin destroy all in their respective paths. Honestly, if we’re going to play Doucheface McGee and dig on this deal, I think the on-court product would be the way to go. Most seem delighted about the idea of D’Antoni getting the weapons that are STAT and Melo because of the Pringles Man’s intricate, innovative offenses, but everyone remembers Shaq in Phoenix, right? That wasn’t that long ago. Trying to superimpose a completely anomalous style onto a superstar scorer generally doesn’t work, and I would not be surprised if after a first-round exit that sees a lot of ball-stopping by Mr. Anthony-Vasquez, the Knicks unfairly took a second look at D’Antoni’s prospects moving forward.

Mr. Todd: OK.  A couple of things.  First off:  Did you really just call me a “doucheface”?  Seriously?  Is that where we are as friends now?  And not just a regular “doucheface” but a formally addressed “doucheface” with a generically demeaning last name?  Seriously?  I am not above completely embarrassing you on the internet. Secondly, “trade talks have become… mysterious”?  Have they?  Is the outcome of this Melo-business any different than what every un-lobotomized dude on the planet thought it would be?  Was Carmelo not literally badgered with the same exact (non-game related) question by literally every media rep he spoke to for six months straight, and did he not give the exact same pre-recorded answer to every one of them? I don’t see a lot that’s “mysterious” there.  Sorry.  And lastly, this trade is in no way comparable to the Shaq/Phoenix deal.  Shaq was 36 and fat, was traded for a guy with better numbers, and went from the fifth slowest pace in the league at the time to the third fastest. Melo is in his prime and moving from a team that doesn’t really play defense (23^rd in defensive efficiency) to a team that doesn’t really play defense (20^th in defensive efficiency), from a team that plays at the third highest pace in the league to the team that plays at the second, and from a tenured coach known for his exciting teams that score a lot but don’t win quite as much to basically the same guy.  And they’re “superimposing a completely anomalous style?”  Really?  I don’t necessarily think the Knick’s are winning the East this year or anything, but to say they’re going to fall apart and that D’Antoni will be looking for a job in three months?  They’re not winning anything because they just traded away all their depth to add a gunner who doesn’t play much defense to a team that’s best player is a gunner who doesn’t play much defense.  But to say he doesn’t fit?  He fits perfectly and will perfectly help them continue to be exciting and mediocre.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jZeVlVcDC5k

Mr. Mustafa: Say what you will about the ubiquitous coverage or the constant leaks, but in a world of William Wesleys and Isiah Thomases, you and I don’t have a ******* clue to what might actually be happening in NBA boardrooms (and general manger’s iPhones). Yes, the mystery is being paraded before our faces by anyone who thinks we might care, but the enigma remains intact. We all knew this deal was going to happen, even in almost an identical form to the one that actually went through, but anyone other than Isiah that feels like he or she has the pulse of this league probably needs to cut down on the delusion sauce (and as for Isiah, he’s too far gone to know any better). Anything could have happened with this; the fact it didn’t proves nothing. Methinks you’re a bit too quick to forget that the league’s best player (a guy who quite possibly could end up being the best ever) went to Miami on a whim this offseason after years of flirtations with every other team in the NBA. As for the Knicks abiding Melo on the court, taking quick (often bad) shots that pump up a team’s pace does not equate “fitting perfectly”; the guy likes to play ISO ball, plain and simple, and without sweeping reforms for his offense, D’Antoni might not make this thing work quickly enough to convince Donsaiah Dolan Thomwalsh that he’s the guy that can make this mess work. Sebastian Pruiti put it much better than I did (doesn’t he always?), but I haven’t seen a thing out of Carmelo that screams “motion-based offense” once in his seven-year career. Everyone keeps talking about defense and rebounding, and everyone is absolutely right. But assuming this thing is just going to roll right along offensively would be at best jumping the gun and at worst, not noticing the hulking iceberg in view.

Posted Up is a weekly conversation between two friends and basketball enthusiasts:  Jacob Mustafa, a big man jump shooter a la Mehmet Okur with the skills to box out a much smaller man and the speed to pass after two dribbles, and Eric Todd, an exclusively right handed dribbler who calls for the ball much more often than he actually gets it and who is usually pretty tired after about ten minutes.

Eric Todd: As you (but basically no one else) know(s), I’ve spent the week wandering our nation’s capital among the artifacts of our brief history and, in doing so, can’t help but think of the nature of allegiance, of what causes us to associate ourselves with one thing or team or idea over another.  In sports, this conversation could easily devolve into a discussion of regionalism, jingoism, or chauvinism, of a sort of insipid conformity, but I think a more proper analogy might be a consideration of why it is that we love our families. Our families, who complain and drag us into fights and make racist jokes and need money for bail, who scoff at our ambitions and fall asleep on the couch watching Two and a Half Men or a Chuck Norris movie in earnest appreciation of his ability to kick Russian ass. Our families who irritate us and worse but who, despite all the reasons not to, we can’t help but love.

Why then is it that these people, who for many of us resemble no one we would ever choose to associate with, are exactly the individuals we hold most dear.  Is it because we sort of look alike?  Or share some DNA?  Or some cultural idea of obligation? Or is it just proximity? More than likely it’s all of those things, but also it’s experience.  It’s time spent together, growing and becoming who we are.  It’s that they know us and we know them.  And I think the same is true of our sports teams. While the Rockets this year may have become a little like your uncle Ted who blew all his money at the track and got drunk and cheated on his wife at a conference in Detroit, he’s also the same uncle who never forgets your birthday, even if you always forget his, and who took you to see Pavement when you were 13, someone who, despite his obvious, glaring flaws, will always be family.

Jacob Mustafa: Sports teams and families certainly have their fair share in common, playing the patriarchal role when deciding if fanbases can deal with the loss of a star or acting out like a younger sibling in a massive breakup when players demand trades. The Rockets, though, definitely occupy something subtler than the cool ****-up uncle role, though. The Rockets are more like a high-strung, intellectual cousin who’s gotten a job as an insurance adjuster, a big shift from when the two of you used to watch anime shows while drinking his dad’s whiskey that he had sneaked out of the cupboard; sometimes you see the Rockets at family functions, but you used to hope he’d come out of his shell someday instead of picking a line of work in which he’d just delve deeper into his neurotic tendencies.

Maybe that was all gibberish, but I meant that I generally think of this organization that we follow as much safer than it should be, the kind of team that would rather never lose 50 games than make sure it wins 60. All well and good, but we know that those kinds of goals can be less than inspiring after years of this. Maybe I’ve just gotten spoiled, though. People round these parts don’t often talk about it, but in recent years, I feel like, as Rockets fans, we’ve been beyond blessed by the cosmos for the ridiculous ball we’ve seen. 22 games in a row? What the hell was that? Remember that month and a half where the Rockets just never lost? Or how about Yao’s Willis Reed impression? Or the Rockets still taking it to then Lakers without him? After ten years of trying to remember what it felt like to cheer for my team beyond the end of April, maybe the reason I think the Rockets could do so much more right now is that they’ve done such a good job of doing so much else in the last five years.

Mr. Todd: You are spoiled (in general), but clearly so am I.  It’s easy to forget the reasons we’ve cheered during leaner times.  Just as it’s easy to forget the laughs at family reunions and the nice things your Grandmother wrote in your graduation card during the petty fight at Christmas over how to split up your great aunt’s will.  And I think that’s exactly the problem with this particular Rockets’ season (as well as life so very often).  We’ve allowed our expectations to define for us the meaning of success.  During the streak year no one expected anything from Carl Landry, Aaron Brooks, Scola, or, god forbid, Mike Harris (who wasn’t even on the roster) or Mutombo.  At the beginning of the season, we were all excited about the Steve Francis signing and hopeful that with a new coach Bonzi Wells might become what he had shown flashes of in Sacramento (We do always trade with the Kings! Arrgh!), and that’s why when the streak happened, especially after Yao went down, it was such a wonderful gift, because it was just that, a gift.  I remember in the playoffs the next year how you said you’d be “happy if we could get out of the first round” and how pleased we were to lose to the Lakers in seven.

But, therein, exactly lies the problem.  The relative successes of those two years created further expectations for the next two, that the team should build on them and create even more successes.  Daryl Morey manifested productive basketball players from the ether, seemingly tripping over them on the street like modeling agencies “discover” their clients working as waitresses in truck stop diners in Kansas, and now we expect him to continue to do just that, only more and better, to find us a “star” wandering the River Walk in San Antonio (maybe that’s a bad analogy) or hanging out in a bar on 6th Street.  Imagine what the team would have looked like in 06-07 without both Yao and T-Mac, because that’s where we are.  I’m not convinced that Luther Head, Juwan Howard, Rafer, Shane, and Chuck could win more games than the Cavs this season, maybe, but maybe not.  Our expectations can create disappointment, and, being that expectations are often based on the events of the past and not always the circumstances of the present, that disappointment can sometimes be a little unfair. 

Mr. Mustafa: But Leslie Alexander and Daryl Morey are not Dan Gilbert, and they would not have allowed a cluster**** like the Cavs to have ever taken place here. My expectations, and many fans’, are based on what this roster was supposed to be able to achieve and what this front office can do to rebuild. I have not lost the faith, brother (I feel more Hulk-Hogan than pious when I write that). I still think this team possesses the requisite things to turn into something currently; I enter every season expecting greatness because that’s what I expect out of the things I trust and love, and this organization has consistently earned those from this fanbase, as much as multi-billion dollar corporations that incessantly ask for fans’ money can be trusted or loved. This discussion around the reasons for fandom neglected the idea of competence, and even professionalism, prime reasons I’ve found it hard not to believe in Houston entering these seasons and prior to trade deadlines. I agree that this team could not have been prepared for all of its losses, both record and personnel-wise, and should not be expected to build directly off of the success of the last two years, but that does not justify inertia. This front office still has the faith of its fans and, therefore, its expectations; who or what else will lead us to the promised land?

As a transplant to and from more cities in this hemisphere than I can count on a hand or two, I’ve held a variety of sports (and other) allegiances.  A Penguins fan when my dad lived in Pittsburgh, I owned a Bruce Smith jersey when he got transferred to to Buffalo, which was itself replaced by Penny Hardaway’s spindly caricature when we moved to Tennessee.  In 1998, I came to Houston for college and have since developed a comfortable working relationship with the city and its Rockets.  I also like meandering arguments, particularly about basketball, and often with Mr. Mustafa.  Usually, though, they don’t occur on the internet.

And now, let us commence with the jib-jabbering, this week mostly focused on the Rocket backcourt and its future:

Jacob Mustafa: Because you preternaturally have a thing for dribble penetration (or maybe you just like their production; who knows with you), the Rockets backcourt has been the one mainstay you think this team should try and maintain in trade talks. After reading Ben Heller’s piece about Kyle Lowry, the supposed dependable Rock of Gibraltar in our undersized guard spots, I don’t exactly think the three men you’re mostly referring to with your backcourt love- Kevin Martin, Aaron Brooks and Lowry- are the “guys we’ve been looking for”. You know, the ones that will lead the Rockets deep in the playoffs with the right frontcourt (or wing players or bench or young talent or any of those things that it would be nice for the Rockets to have in 2011).

Instead, I think we’re really just judging Brooks and Lowry by years past, perhaps an astute move given Aaron’s injury this year (those saying he may have permanently lost a step would be wise to remember that a year ago, Tony Parker’s speed was supposed to have been lost to an ankle injury as well. How’s that working out?), but those two guys haven’t played remarkably well together, still pose myriad defensive problems that their big men simply can’t fix with help and don’t exactly mesh with Martin too brilliantly either. The team is still looking for that ultimate creator of offense, even for a guy like Baron Davis (not the actual one, though) that could definitely run the team without looking lost so often. You still loving the backcourt connection, though?

Eric Todd: I think you’re missing my point.  My contention is simply that we’re not losing games because of a failure in the backcourt, but rather what we lack up front. We give up the league’s 6th best FG% to opponents, while “allowing” the 7th fewest number of three-point attempts. Teams are taking and making shots near the basket against our defense.  The Yao Ming skill we’ve least been able to replicate is his size, his ability to simply take up space, to be a shot changer necessarily even more than a shot blocker, a place to funnel driving guards.  While I’m absolutely not anointing either Lowry or Kevin Martin as the architects of a new Houston religion, they have played relatively well together this year and have very obviously complementary skill sets.

But my broader point is that defense is a more significant attribute for a frontcourt player than a backcourt one as FG% tends to increase as players move closer to the bucket.  Therefore, Scola’s bad defense is hurting us more than Kevin Martin’s or Aaron Brooks’s, particularly with the way the team is constructed currently.  What I’m alluding to is that given these factors, Scola’s age, current offensive production, and contract, he may be the more worthwhile asset to trade.  With Brooks’s injury issues, we might not be able to get full market value for him, which also means we could possibly sign him on the cheap in the off-season.  Tell me it wouldn’t be a coup to sign both Brooks and Lowry for under 10 million.  As well, I think we might be able to bring back some scoring and some post defense for a package of Scola, Budinger/Hill, and some money (sigh, Yao’s contract).

Mr. Mustafa: While that deal sounds like Darko-Milicic-style manna from heaven, no one’s taking Scola until the offseason (Connor told me so!). As big of a problem as the defense, both in the paint and on the perimeter, has been, these little buggers you adore so much keep on handling the ball inefficiently and crumbling in crunch-time offensive situations, unable to create shots for themselves (except Brooks, whose subsequent shots have been more often errant than not) or anyone else on the team. There’s a reason the more curious Rockets fans are treating Terence Williams like a damn folk hero; his ability to penetrate and then dish or attack feels absolutely foreign on a team on which everyone needs everyone else to get his looks, leaving Rockets nation to wonder when the team will let the freak go out there and do that crazy thing he does.

I do like Brooks, Martin and Lowry, but so does the rest of the league. Those guys are the most likely Rockets, particularly Martin and Brooks, to bring back real talent in a deal with a team looking for that perfect piece. That Rasheed, if you will. I’m not even particularly advocating dealing these backcourt players; I simply want there to be a clear understanding that, as the team currently stands, there is no discernible future for Houston, just a goulash of scavenged parts (mostly good leftovers, though). Given that information, all of the Rockets need to be for sale to the highest bidder, given the highest bidder comes prepared for a fleecing deserving of Daryl Morey to get one of the Rockets’ “names”. No fire sale, but trade talks for this team should be on a constant simmer. This is Houston’s chance to get its Al Jefferson or Marc Gasol or Emmitt Smith if it plays its cards right.

Mr. Todd: I personally would be elated if the Rockets managed to land Emmitt Smith and am not arguing against any trade scenario that potentially improves the the team’s future.  However, I am suggesting that Scola might currently be our most trade-able asset.  I’ve read Connor’s article (fantastic stuff) and understand the monetary complications of trading Scola’s contract, but I also think the team has the flexibility (exceptions, expiring contracts) to make a deal if there’s one to be made.  Aaron Brooks, because of his recent injury, is presently at a diminished value from what he would have garnered had he been traded before the season or, in my opinion, even what he will represent if the team does not trade him before the deadline and allows his production to re-stabilize.  As well, I think that Kevin Martin is a consistently underrated player, even by you, and might not bring back as much as he provides.  I also think it sort of silly to argue “clutch-ness” or “crunch-time offense” when all the points scored in a game count equally as much as those accumulated in the fourth quarter and, regardless, the Rockets this season rank 7th in the league in that particular category.  If you remember, this same argument that they couldn’t finish games was directed at the team a few seasons ago when they had someone “to penetrate and… dish or attack”.  What we can’t do in the fourth quarter (or anytime really) is get defensive stops.

Look, I’ve been on board with your “blow it up” conceit since November and absolutely agree that Morey should (and I’m sure is) considering any possible trade scenario that comes across his desk/phone, but what I can’t get on board with is a doomsday hypothesis in which the every player should be traded immediately for cap relief and draft picks and that the team has no future whatsoever.  I think this team has a lot of talent (you’re right, though, none with real transcendent potential), has underachieved so far this season (which means I think we’ll see an improved team in the next few months, trade or no trade), and, with some creative re-structuring, could possibly be a contender in the West again in the near future.

Mr. Mustafa: The West? As in, the Western Conference and not a vaguer, more idealistic notion of the American West that has cowboys and men of all nationalities panning for gold? In that world of varmints and yellow-bellies, I do think the Houston Rockets could be contenders, but in the Western Conference of the NBA, I think the Rockets can really do no better, in this year and the near future, than the bottom of the playoff standings with heaps of lucks needed just for that improbability. Restructuring something without a structure is like trying to do renovations on the Wright Brothers plane in hopes of making it a 747. I think we’re arguing semantics here, but the margins can hold some pretty big differences, especially when it comes down to the difference between “rebuilding on the fly” and a completely new beginning, which is what the Rockets need so desperately as the team wanders around searching for an identity in the murk.

Posted Up will be a weekly column featuring the argumentative stylings of Jacob Mustafa and Eric Todd about NBA and Rockets-related issues.