This kind of insight is why ‘Inside the NBA’ is the best show on television.

A note: I wish I hadn’t been so young when Hakeem was here because I’m just now making observations when seeing reruns of his.  One thing that just came to mind: aside from just how ridiculous his arsenal was in its entirety, what even made him think  to expand it in such ways?  As humans, we learn by imitation and attempt new things through emulation.  What made him think “I as a big man should put my soccer footwork to good and use these guard moves and cross people over and spin on them.”

Stepping aside from basketball, a big part of emulation is the knowledge that something can be done and the confidence/reassurance that brings just simply because someone else has done it with success.  So I think one of the big things about Hakeem that isn’t appreciated is the creativity and confidence to even reach that point of inventing post moves…

A final note on Hakeem: When news breaks of Hakeem’s tutelage of some superstar, the reaction almost always is, “Why haven’t the Rockets hired him as a coach?”  Think for a second.

You’re the greatest consultant in the world in a particular field.  Would you work in-house somewhere and handle low-profile, unspectacular clients?  Or instead, would you stay independent and only handle the best and as they sought you out?  The answer is fairly obvious.

Linsanity at full-force was short-lived.  Most observers of this team would tell you Kyle Lowry and Goran Dragic were both better anyway.  Terrence Williams didn’t work out largely due to his own fault.  To followers of the Houston Rockets, Rudy Gay still stands as ‘the one that got away’ in the Morey era.

Gay was a Rocket for mere minutes.  After selecting him with the 9th pick in the 2006 draft, the Rockets sent him to Memphis–along with Stromile Swift–in exchange for forward Shane Battier.  I’ve described news of that trade before as “at the time, my worst moment as a Rockets fan.”

When the Grizzlies rolled into town on Friday, I decided to ask Gay about the deal.  It’s clear he still thinks about it too:

“I was talking to one of my teammates about what if I stayed here,” said Gay in response.

When I asked him whether he had envisioned himself playing next to Tracy McGrady during that short stint on draft night, Gay responded:

“I did, I did.  I saw myself learning a lot from him and being able to absorb a lot from him.  He’s a great.  I would’ve loved to play behind him or with him.”

It’s a painful picture.  At the time, on that night, I still remember my feelings.  In the running for much of the year to be the #1 overall selection, when he was still available at #9, I was doing backflips.  It was an absolute miracle.  The travesty that was the Houston Rockets’ 2005-2006 season would be made worthwhile.  The Rockets would finally have the young athlete they desperately needed.  (The team had been platooning the likes of Jon Barry and David Wesley opposite T-Mac for the previous two seasons.)  Gay would complement McGrady on the perimeter; he would learn from him; he would give the Rockets the swingman duo that would be the envy of the entire league.

Only the Rockets had different plans.  Minutes after the selection, Ric Bucher came on my television set to announce that the Rockets would be trading Rudy Gay to Memphis for Shane Battier.  I couldn’t move.  I felt nauseous.

It was the first move of the Morey era and still stands as the most controversial.  It was certainly his signature trade.  It was the first bold proclamation that the new regime would be doing things very differently and perhaps not easily understood.  Morey traded a young, unproven athlete for a guy whose contributions weren’t otherwise seen in traditional box scores.

In hindsight, with the way things worked out, even with Gay’s ascent to stardom, I do now think trading Gay for Battier was the right move.

From his second season onward, Gay put up points and did it with flash.  He’s certainly a spectacle.  But after watching Battier, I’m not completely sure Gay would have helped the team more.

Battier anchored some injury-ridden Rockets teams which heavily overachieved.  He defended the other team’s best player; he led; he was a coach on the floor at both ends.

In his five seasons with the team, Battier posted win shares of 9.0, 8.2, 5.2, 4.3, and 4.1.  (Win shares are an estimate of the number of wins contributed by a player.)  By comparison, in those years, Gay posted win shares of 0.5, 5.0, 3.3, 6.4, and 5.5.  While Gay probably would have helped the team more in the past two seasons–and now, with Battier having moved on–it’s probably also the case that he wouldn’t have had nearly the impact that Battier did in those first three years.  And those first three years were when the Rockets were contenders.

Gay catching lobs from McGrady and learning from his tutelage is a wondrous vision.  But who would have defended?  Defense was the Rockets’ calling card the last half of this last decade.  Who would have kept the team together through injuries as Battier did?  Maybe it wouldn’t have worked out as well as I had imagined.

Even now, with Gay on the books for $15million, and Memphis just a few games ahead of Houston in the standings, would the Rockets really be that much better off both in the present and long-term?

I asked Tony Allen if he had a minute as I wanted to ask him about Goran Dragic.  He said he was done for the day.  As it took enough courage to approach him altogether, I didn’t insist.

I had posted a random Youtube video about the win-streak for nostalgic remedy, but removed it when I realized the film creator ruined it towards the end with some annoying captions. – Ed.

Otis Thorpe spent 6 1/2 seasons with the Houston Rockets

The Houston Rockets will honor their all-decade team of the 90′s, selected by fan voting, tomorrow at halftime.  Otis Thorpe and Vernon Maxwell will not be among the players honored.

While I would honor Maxwell at some point, I can somewhat understand a decision to not do so.  He walked out on the club in ’95 in the middle of a playoff run.  I have forgiven him, just because of what he had given before, but I can empathize if the team and ownership haven’t.

But they should still do right and honor Otis Thorpe at some night, perhaps with a day dedicated solely to him.  Otis poured his sweat and blood protecting the Dream for six years, playing all 82 games in five of them.  Without Otis, there would not have been a ’94 title.

Maxwell and Thorpe would have made my 90′s team.  Too often, we focus on success and not what got us there.  We forget the past and the lessons learned. Cassell, Elie, and Horry were no doubt instrumental in the playoff runs.  That isn’t disputed.  But the quartet of Smith, Maxwell, Thorpe, and Olajuwon started four seasons together, spanning from 1990-1994.   Without their efforts, none of this happens.  Without their struggles, there is no banner in the rafters.  Without their experience from ’93 in the heartbreaking Game 7 loss to Seattle, no titles are won.  They grew and overcame; they should not be pushed aside.

The Houston Rockets should do the right thing and honor Otis Thorpe.

Dating back to the seven minute mark of game 6 of the ’97 West Finals, the above game marked the absolute high point of the last fifteen years for the Houston Rockets franchise.  Up 2-0 going home, it was not simply that Houston seemed to face a sure path to the Finals.  It was that the team had two 25 year old superstars in their prime and seemed destined to dominate the next decade in the West…

For all of you (and me), the cats over at Oakley & Allen put together a nice reminder of the feelings that go along with seeing a dream narrative realized with this 1995 NBA Finals flashback to Game 2 between the Houston Rockets and the Orlando Magic, a time when Sam Cassell did not know how to talk to national reporters, Penny Hardaway still flew and Typical Cats and Don Cannon scored it all.

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

On the Rockets-Knicks side, Houston got the right to swap first round picks with Knicks in 2011 as long as it is not the number one overall pick, and the Rockets lay claim to the Knicks 2012 first round pick as long as it is outside the top five picks (in which case the claim is rolled over to the proceeding draft and so on until 2015 when it turns into second round picks).

The Knicks got Tracy McGrady. And his desire to succeed despite all obstacles.

The Rockets got Knicks’ 2009 First Round pick, Jordan Hill, and Jared Jeffries bloated contract.

The Knicks got enough cap space in the summer of 2010 to raise and, subsequently, crush the hopes of their fans like a piñata at a Quinceañera party. Except instead of candy, out spilled five future years of mediocrity.

(Seriously, what is the difference between Amare Stoudemire and Allan Houston at this point? This is not a rhetorical question…Both played for absurd contracts that essentially pay by the point. Expectations of returning the team to glory of years past are the same. Both players missed significant time due to injury…The answer is, as Alex Trebec would say: “Height. We were looking for height.“ By the way, if you enjoy laughter, it is worth watching the 4:40 mark of that video.)

Besides making a large group of Northerners feel worse than they already did, the real value for the Rockets is the right to swap picks in the 2011 draft. Yes, Jordan Hill has potential. But he is a known commodity after a year of NBA service. If the Rockets are using the pick as a piece of a trade, nothing entices a stupid GM like the projected potential of a high draft pick. Below are some more reasons the 2011 pick is the most valuable of what the Rockets got from the Knicks, in the context of a potential trade.

No. 1 The picks are assets that do not count against the salary cap until the summer of their respective draft. You can think of them as liquid assets that are easily transferrable unlike players with contracts that must be fit within certain parameters. If something is easy to move, it has that much more value.

No. 2 The second Knicks’ pick is top five protected. Historically, value decreases significantly after the 5^th pick. This is well described by Elena Bergeron: “No-brainer picks at the top of the pile typically account for an estimated wins average somewhere between 7.5 and 4.5 every year. Between picks 6 and 10, the difference in how a potential draftee will sway a team’s fortune barely varies more than a single game. So, even if your team has a lottery pick, the talent available once the first five are off the table isn’t comparable.”

No. 3 The Knicks would seem to be more likely to have a worse record in the 2010/11 season than subsequent seasons, having had only one off-season to improve their roster (see reason 4) from a pathetic 29-53 campaign.*

By the 2012 draft, the Knicks will have had two summers to rebuild and improve their record. The Knicks will have about $42 million in committed salary heading into next summer. That allows them about $16 million to upgrade their roster further, depending on where the cap is next year.

No. 4 The Knicks did upgrade their roster heading into this season…just like your friend upgraded his living situation from a rent he couldn’t afford to his parent’s house. If Amare’ Stoudemire, Raymond Felton, Ronny Turiaf, and Anthony Randolph are considered upgrades, then who were they running out before?

To answer that question, the Knicks’ most heavily used starting rotation last year was Chris Duhon, Wilson Chandler, Danilo Gallinari, Jared Jeffries, and David Lee. Better combinations could be found in a port-o-john. This upcoming season, the Knicks could conceivably start Ray Felton, Bill Walker, Gallinari, Anthony Randolph, and Stoudemire.

Felton is good at…um…running fast while dribbling. He continues a long line of Tar Heel ineptitude at the PG spot (video of one of my favorite basketball moments ever).

Bill Walker was going to be good, and I hope he overcomes all that bad luck. After this season.

Danilo Gallinari is a prototypical Euro import: shooter, long, white, and no defense (which could lead us to an inappropriate prophylactic joke (as opposed to the appropriate ones)). His 42.3 FG% is undermined because most of his shots are from behind the arc, where he sports a 57.2% eFG% (a measure that weighs made 3 point shots 1.5x more than made 2 pointers because, well, they are worth 1 more point which is 0.5 the value of a 2 pointer). His rebounding improved to almost five a game last year, his second in the NBA.

Randolph has the potential to be like Chris Webber – a PF who can score and pass and call timeouts. But how many performers reach their potential after 3 years of disappointment? Besides Lindsey Lohan.

Stoudemire is good if you like efficient scoring…on both ends of the floor, because he does not play defense (just like Allan Houston).

In summation, the Rockets took advantage of the Knicks’ desperation to sign a star this summer past. Houston’s only negative in the trade last season, Jared Jeffries’ contract, is now an asset. Besides his contract expiring after this season, Jeffries is a great defender who can defend four positions. Any team hoping to contend with the Heat or Lakers could use some of that. The draft picks are fantastic assets because of the hope they inspire. And the 2011 pick inspires more than the 2012 option.

*The Knicks spent $2,918,208 for each of their 29 wins last season on player salaries alone. For comparison, the Rockets spent $1,649,472 for each of their 42 wins, and the Cavaliers spent $1,391,957 for each of their league leading 61 wins.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hHH-zebPZ6g

I will need to double-check with Larry Coon, but I do believe Matt’s contract is still currently on the books.

Maloney became something of a mythical figure upon retirement, the subject of numerous urban legends around the greater Houston area.  While never corroborated, I’ve heard on account of at least three separate individuals tales of sheer dominance at local area recreation centers.

He was unguardable.  He’d have three or four guys draped on him at any one time.  He was burying threes from mid-court – absolutely unconscious; the best player I’ve ever gone up against.

I have nothing but appreciation for Maloney’s service in the 1996-1997 campaign when he stepped into emergency duty and filled the void at point guard.  But truth be told, he was undoubtedly the link that cost those Rockets a shot at the title.

Defending a double digit lead mid-way through the 4th quarter in Game 6 of the Western Conference Finals, the Rockets simply had no answer for John Stockton who went berserk.  I’ll spare you guys the rest as we’re all familiar with the story.

But there was a report in the Chronicle earlier that year discussing a rumored deal that would have sent guard Brent Price to the Mavericks for veteran guard Derek Harper.  Allegedly, the Rockets balked when Dallas requested that a first rounder be included in the deal.  I still maintain that this non-deal was the most significant move of the “Big 3 Era.”  Harper could have reined in Stockton, at the very least for one basket less, and we would have seen a Game 7.

Reportedly, Kevin Johnson was also available at that time.  The Rockets opted to go to war with Sedalle Threatt instead.  The decision to not acquire a veteran point guard for the playoffs was what sealed the Rockets’ fate in ’97.

I’ll never forget the moment I heard news of The Eddie Griffin Trade.  It was one of those moments in life that stay with you simply for no other reason than that you make it a point at the time to remember.

His was amongst the saddest of tragedies.  A tormented soul who caved from the pressures of professional basketball.  A tale that perhaps not everyone is made for the NBA; a warning of care, even for the most gifted of athletes.

Yet the human story has already been told, many times.  What of the effects on the team?

*

I heard the news on the radio.

At the time, I was trying to envision the just-drafted Richard Jefferson next to Steve Francis and Cuttino Mobley.  I liked the Wildcat, but wasn’t sure of his potential – he seemed finished and I wanted someone who could one day become a star.

“Wait a minute.  This is huge.  I just got word of a trade…involving the Houston Rockets,” said Matt Jackson of Sports Radio 610 in Houston, the incredulity in his tone manifesting a deafening silence.

My ears perk up.  The Rockets still had two draft picks remaining and had been rumored to be attempting a trade.

“The Rockets have just traded their three first round draft picks to New Jersey for…Eddie Griffin.”

*

The Rockets were pretty good in 200-2001, winning 45 games.  But still, something was missing.

They had Steve Francis, Cuttino Mobley, Mo Taylor, three first round draft picks, and a wad of cash under the cap.

This was the summer when the franchise would take that bold leap forward.  They would chase Chris Webber and solidify their depth through the draft, building the nucleus that would restore former glory.  Yes, the future looked bright in Houston.

Draft night came as a bonus.  Eddie Griffin was the 6’10 gazelle you could dream on.  He had the body that let you imagine him as anything you wanted.  And imagine I did.

He was frail, but we would feed him, and he would grow.  He would grow into the second fiddle that would help Francis bring the Rockets back to respectability.  He would be just the latest in a line of great big men in Rockets history.  Yes, I had let my mind wander and imagine the possibilities with Eddie Griffin.

*

The thing I remember most about Eddie was his keen sense for the shot-block.  He was like the quarterback that didn’t have to set his feet to throw – he could jump off either foot for the block and do it without even gathering.

Eddie wasn’t even that athletic.  He didn’t have that Amare Stoudemire to him – that explosion that let a guy jump over buildings.  He just had a sense.  In his rookie year, Eddie averaged a shade under 2 blocks per game in 26 minutes, but many were the nights when he’d get 5.  At only 19, some even wondered if he could someday challenge Hakeem’s record.

But Eddie wasn’t very good.  He was too skinny, too weak in the post and really only had one move.  He hit a lot of 3’s but boy was it ugly.  He had a shot that you could hang a wash from.  By his second year, he might have even gotten worse.  We told ourselves he just needed guidance and Jeff Van Gundy was en route to save the day.  Yes, we would teach Eddie and he would learn.  He would learn to be the presence we so desperately needed.

*

When the rumors about Van Gundy’s arrival began to swirl, most thought of his potential to discipline Steve Francis.  I thought of Marcus Camby pressuring the Pacers full court.  Eddie would become that player.  With Eddie next to the team’s newest hope, Yao Ming, the future looked bright in 2003.

*

As is known, things didn’t work out.  Shots were heard outside his home and Eddie never even took the court.  He was released by the club later that year.

But the impact wasn’t just of human tragedy.  Eddie Griffin’s absence symbolized the frustrations of an era.  Eddie Griffin’s absence symbolized a lost generation.

It’s unlikely that a team ever hits on all three of its draft picks.  But in trading three that through trades and losses they had earned, the Houston Rockets robbed themselves of the youth of which they were in dire need; robbed themselves of the rotation players who might have made a small difference.  The effects lingered for almost a decade.

Until ‘09, when the cupboard was finally restocked, every time the Houston Rockets took the floor, evident it was that they were in want of something more; in want of something from their past.

Every time the likes of Ryan Bowen or Rod Strickland, or Clarence Weatherspoon or Derek Anderson took the floor, we were reminded of what we missed, what we had had, what could have made a small difference – “The Lost Draft of 2001.”

No, it was never just about Eddie Griffin.  It was never just about a man who could have saved Steve Francis’ career.  It was never just about a 20 year old in line to mature with Yao for a decade.  It was about what Eddie carried; the two or maybe three players the team sacrificed in his trade; the three picks Eddie represented.  Eddie personified the frustrations of an era, his case the epitome of what went wrong for a team starved of young talent.  Eddie was the missing man of an era.

*

The Eddie Griffin Trade was the decision that changed everything.  Yet still, I can never criticize Carrol Dawson for the move.  Dawson had his faults, but the man dared to be great.  Even in hindsight of what has transpired in the decade since, I would make the trade again.  Eddie was the ‘big’ that we needed to pair with Steve to take the next step.  Eddie’s trade was our only avenue of obtaining the player we hoped he would one day become.

No, I can never find fault in Dawson’s decision.  Even if it was his most costliest of moves.  Even if it lost an entire generation.

I came across the above video late last night while digging through my youtube favorites.  This beautiful compilation is the first in a series of three entitled ‘The Special Two’ documenting Yao Ming and Tracy McGrady’s respective careers before and shortly after their ‘triumphant’ union with the Houston Rockets.

Juxtaposed with the reality of our times, the entire presentation, complete with elegant soundtrack, suffices to evoke emotion from even the most jaded amongst us, scarred from a recent past of false promises and unfulfilled potential.

To feel our pain requires revisiting the excitement of 2004; diving back to those hot summer days when each morsel of news more greatly aroused an already insatiable appetite for the unthinkable.  These were the days when for Yao there was hope; a belief that his problems were rooted only in a backcourt unwilling or unable to share.  He would mature with age and follow along that projected path to greatness which had been laid before him even prior to his reception.

Could it really be that this gargantuan superhuman was mere weeks, mere days or even moments from joining forces with the league’s most enticing prodigy?  McGrady combined the athletic dynamism that epitomized the pride of his generation with the refined grace so precious few could possess.  When Pat Riley anticipated a day when 6’9 specimens ruled in quintet, it was Tracy McGrady of whom he had probably dreamt as paragon of his vision.

McGrady, 25.  Yao, 24.  A decade of dominance ahead.  Did we dare to imagine the possibilities?  Here was the league’s scoring champ, equally gifted in the duty of distributing, personally hand-picking his career companion.  Here was the league’s most immovable force, selfless to a fault, finally joined by a benevolent ally.  What could possibly stand in the face of their shared destiny?  They had youth, unrivaled talent, and a strong sense of camaraderie which made their bond appear unbreakable.

They dazzled us for that lone second half of 2004-2005.  The team exploded after Jeff Van Gundy overhauled the offense, using Yao as the end-result of each play rather than its initial facilitator.  McGrady was handed the proverbial keys, afforded a lenient leash through which he delivered, capturing center stage in his brilliant exhibition against Dallas.  We were teased by glimpses of future dominance in the form of a devastating pick-and-roll unleashed in Game 5, something mysteriously never seen again.  Alas, the Rockets were defeated but what really stood in their way?  With merely a band of aging journeymen, they had appeared immortal for extended stretches, armed with what had (contrary to conventional wisdom) become a fluid offense and a stingy, suffocating defensive approach.  The heavy lifting had been done. The foundation was set.  A few choice free agents and the crown would be theirs, rightfully back in its place with its sisters earned through the sweat poured on the floors of The Summit so many years before.

The cruel irony lies in the obvious; those damning truths which we so readily expelled from our minds in heedless bliss.  Yao was a giant and thus vulnerable to afflictions of the foot.  McGrady was a freak; a walking stick with an odd curvature in his back which had already begun taking its toll.

No more of this tale need be mentioned as their story is well known.  While they still remain Houston Rockets, the remembrance of ‘The Special Two’ will be cause for mourn in perpetuum. Such a cruel twist of fate cannot so easily be forgotten.

It’s important to periodically break from the monotony of present. In that spirit, now would be appropriate to present the first ever edition of ‘Rockets Retro.’ Every now and then, I will be highlighting a famous/infamous play/moment/game in Houston Rockets history and offering some thoughts and recollections.

With the present drama surrounding Tracy McGrady, I think it is only fitting that the first edition of ‘Rockets Retro’ feature the pinnacle of the Yao/McGrady era.

Quick side note to start off: A lot of what raised this dunk to the level at which it is revered has to do with the broadcast call of the play. This is probably topic for a longer post, but I have argued at length in the past that much of what goes into our perception of what is perceived as a ‘great play’ is influenced by the strength of the call. Case in point: I don’t really feel that Michael Jordan’s ‘unnecessarily switch hands in mid-air to avoid a nonexisting defender’ sequence against the Lakers in the ’91 Finals was anything particularly special. You see shots made with a much higher degree of difficulty in almost every NBA game. But when that moment is captured in package with Marv Albert’s iconic delivery, it truly becomes “a spectacular move by Michael Jordan.” Similarly, with all due respect, if the above play is dictated as “Tracy with a facey!” by Bill Worrell as opposed to Kevin Harlan’s ‘sucking of gravity’, it’s probably not on every list as one of the greatest dunks in NBA history. Still an amazing dunk, but probably robbed of its true historical potential. As presented, McGrady’s slam on Bradley simply had every necessary element for greatness.

The play itself need not require any additional description. Essentially, if you may not have known, Tracy McGrady was this really athletic guard that played for the Houston Rockets in 2005. He goes baseline and posterizes the poster-boy for posterization, the infamous Shawn Bradley. The crowd oohs and aahs. Rockets fall from NBA relevance for the next four years.

But let’s talk of the significance of this play. Other than the opening sequence of ‘Yao-Shaq 1′, this dunk was probably the defining moment in P.C. (post championship) Houston Rockets history. This dunk at the time meant so much more than simply its viewer value. It was the most significant moment in the game that really captured the imaginations of Rockets fans.

I will never forget the TNT post-game discussion after that Game 2 win. It’s really unfortunate that there aren’t any clips online of the conversation. Magic Johnson remarked that “they [Tracy and Yao Ming] remind me a lot of myself and Kareem” and Kenny Smith elaborated upon a potential prolonged dominance of the West. Not sure what Charles said. Not meant as a slight to Charles. (Seriously, I just don’t remember what he said, I’m sure it was insightful.)

The dunk was just the symbol. The game was merely a win. It was the ramifications of that brilliance captured in the ensuing discussions that enlivened Rockets fans. It was the possibilities and that first sudden realization of unthinkable potential. Here were the Rockets, McGrady and Yao, 25 and 24 years of age, each amongst the tops at his position, with a shared decade ahead. Here was the moment, the game, when it seemed to all at last be coming together. A 2-0 lead heading home. It was never about the series itself. It was the mind blowing thought that these two 20-something superstars, (who seemed to get along with each other), were possibly en route to the conference finals (a favorable matchup in the Phoenix Suns lay waiting in the wings in the semis) with merely a band of rag-tag aging journeymen at their aid. Indeed, the future was bright.

The reminiscence is agonizing; the cruelty that that first glimpse of greatness is now remembered as the last hurrah. This clip is really all we have in remembrance of an era of unrealized potential.