Rockets 5-on-5

Hayes was signed by the Kings to a four year $21 million dollar contract on December 9th.

The complete details of the physical have yet to be released, but the preliminary reports suggest that the Kings’ team doctors found a heart abnormality.

The implications of Hayes’ release for the Rockets are potentially auspicious. Should he pass a Houston physical, the team remains $9 million dollars under the NBA salary cap and could possibly resign its former player.

So here’s a fake interview I did with David Stern:

Me:  Mr. Stern, regarding these new amnesty and stretch provisions, which respectively allow teams to completely remove bad contracts from their salary cap ledgers and extend such contracts across more than twice their original length for salary cap reduction purposes, aren’t these provisions a direct insult to teams like the Rockets that’ve been fiscally responsible with player signings? Why is the NBA rewarding teams with bad business models that have consistently signed players to unreasonable contracts while effectively punishing well-managed teams? Isn’t this a lot like the Wall Street Bailout of 2008? What if I were to organize an Occupy David Stern? What would you do then? Huh? Well, that’s exactly what I’ll do, starting right now. Can you hand me that piece of cardboard and sharpie behind you? Thanks. We’ll see how you big executive types like this.

David Stern: Well, first of all, let me just say that I’m honored to do this interview with you, Eric. We’re always excited to participate in the expansion of the basketball dialogue on the internet, and as a side note I should say that I very much like that tie you’re wearing.

Me: Thanks.

David Stern: In regards to your question about the new CBA, what we’re trying to do is create an atmosphere in which all teams feel they can compete. We want to foster equality for the teams, the players, and the fans. Don’t you believe in equality, Eric?

Me: I do, but…

David Stern: Of course you do, and that’s why we feel that this new CBA is the best contract we’ve ever negotiated. We, Adam Silver, the owners, and I, believe in fairness, and we believe that fairness not only helps our teams compete but also helps our players feel competitive. It helps ensure they have a reason to wake up in the morning, other than their generous contracts, because money isn’t everything in this world, and we want our players to feel like they have an advantage over the other players and the players of other sports and their fans.

Me: …

David Stern: We hope that you share our enthusiasm, but if not, that’s ok, too. Differences of opinion are important in basketball as they are in the world at large. I have to say, it was very nice talking with you today. We appreciate all of your hard work and wish you and your colleagues at Red94 the best of luck.

Me: Thank you, Mr. Stern, but I was still hoping to…

David Stern: I do unfortunately have to run, but if you contact my publicist, I’d be glad not to answer any other questions you may have.

I don’t know about you guys, but, personally, I feel a lot better.

But should his rank there feel out of place? Is it unfair for us to judge an individual’s performance on the success of his team? Often, basketball arguments end in the broad finality of a Tolkien-style ring count (“X rings. Count em.”), but is that all there is to count? The last time any of us saw NBA basketball we bore witness to Dirk Nowitzki’s inauguration into the basketball pantheon with a playoff performance that will probably be talked about for about as long as the NBA exists (if it ever does again), a performance that could be compared to Houston’s own Hakeem Olajuwon’s performance(s) for which this blog takes its name.

As you (total Houston homer) might expect, if you look up all-time single season playoff PER, Hakeem’s name is at the top of the list*, but if you check the date on that high water mark, it’s not 1994, but rather 1988. And Dirk? His peak playoff PER didn’t occur in 2011, but in 2009 when the Mav’s lost 4-1 to Denver in the second round. The same generally holds true of the other players on this list as well. Of the top 30 playoff performances in the history of the NBA, as measured by PER, only four of them have yielded championships, Jordan twice in 1991 and 1993, Shaq in 2000, and George Mikan in 1954. And among the other 30 in this group, only one player, Wilt Chamberlain in 1964, even managed to convert his transcendent individual performance into a Finals appearance for his team.

How could this be? Is it that this particular catch-all stat doesn’t quite catch as much as Mr. Hollinger would have us believe? Or is it that stats in general are inaccurate approximations of what we see with our eyes, pixilated renderings that distort real experience?  Maybe, but I would also like to suggest another possibility, one that might also hold weight with comparative stats vs. rings arguments of the past such as Wilt vs. Russell.

It seems to me that one reason for this discrepancy between rings/team success and individual stats is that one great player a championship team does not make (just ask 1960’s Wilt, 80’s Jordan, and Cav’s Lebron). Moreover, the less competent help an elite player has, the more responsibility the player himself must take on, thus increasing his individual stats without also necessarily creating success for his team.

I’m not suggesting that good players on bad teams have inflated stats that don’t represent their skill levels. Quite the contrary, in fact, I would argue the opposite is true, that what we’re seeing in those instances in which elite athletes play alongside sub-par teammates is the full extent of their abilities, what exactly they can do when all limitations are removed.

So what does this have to do T-Mac? Think back to the 2007 Playoffs, the last time McGrady and Yao suited up together in the postseason. At the time, after the Large Man and the Lazy Eyed Killer, the Rockets’ best offensive options were Rafer Alston, who averaged 38% shooting for his career, and Luther Head, who averaged 7% shooting for an entire playoff series (still one of the most spectacular failures I’ve ever personally witnessed). Two years before that, it was Mike James and Bob Sura. Now, four years removed, not a one of those four is even signed to an NBA contract.

My point is this: it might do us some good to evaluate players on their individual merits and realize that team success is predicated on just that, the abilities of an entire team. Doing so might also help us remember that Tracy McGrady, when healthy, was a pretty amazing basketball player.

*An interesting note here is that the top two single season playoff PER’s of all time are significantly higher than the instances that follow, around five points higher to be exact. If you’re not familiar with the specifics of the stat, five points is what separates an average player from an all-star. So according to this stat the number one playoff performance of all time, as I already mentioned, was given by Hakeem Olajuwan in 1988. Number two? Lebron James in 2009.

But for the Rockets, I think the more significant question might be how all this mess could affect the team next year. This season for the men in red was supposed to be about evaluating its young talent. Since it’s been clear numbers 1 and 11 regrettably have bones made of glass, the team has been steadily accumulating assets. But now with Yao and T-Mac officially/unofficially retired and there only being 3 players on the roster older than 26, this was supposed to be the year to evaluate these assets, to parse this pirate’s booty into genuine treasures and costume jewelry.

Other than Chuck Hayes and the two rookies, who still have to sign before games begin, only Kevin Martin, Luis Scola, and Kyle Lowry have contracts that are guaranteed beyond this season. If math doesn’t work for you, that means everyone else is in a potential contract year. In a further stroke of brilliance by the eminent Professor Morey, among that group only Dragic (unrestricted) and Lee (restricted) will definitely be a free agents at the end of the season. The four 2009 lottery refugees plus Patterson and Budinger all have team options for next year, which means the team, at its discretion, could keep all of them or none or any combination in between. If the Rockets decide to dump them all, it will be shedding nearly $24 million in salary commitments just in time for a free agency class that could include Russell Westbrook, Kevin Love, Chris Paul, and Dwight Howard.

So while this season was not slated to be one in which many of us expected the Rockets to be title contenders, it would nonetheless serve a valuable purpose moving forward.

But what now? The longer the lockout stretches, the more difficult these looming personnel decisions will later become. Every game that’s missed means fewer minutes to appraise these 8 players whose NBA futures, as well as that of the Rockets, depend on that fair and accurate assessment.

At the time, he suggested that he’d been very forgetful lately and claimed that this must be the cause of his clumsy recall, an excuse that seems unlikely as he’s barely 31 and has rarely, as long as I’ve known him, participated in any sort of activity (alcohol or otherwise) that is often blamed for such memory lapses. It seems to me that the reason for his forgetfulness in this particular instance was a much more understandable one: he hasn’t seen or spoken to her in almost four years and so is just simply, naturally forgetting.

I bring this up not to blather on about my personal life but to make a broader point about memory. Last week I was sick with the flu and, thus, had a lot of time on my hands to troll around the internet and, in the process, inevitably ended up watching a bunch of old highlight clips.

This one, in particular, stuck out to me because even though I was watching basketball when most of these highlights were current and remember the lean 76er’s  short-shorts Barkley and the more savvy I’m not a role model Phoenix Round Mound, I had nearly forgotten the ferociousness with which he played the game, the freight train drives to the basket that saw him swing from the rim to keep himself from flying into the second row and the length and power that allowed a 6’6” forward to lead the league in rebounding in the ‘86/’87 season.

What had replaced these memories were more recent images of Chuck quipping with D. Wade in cell phone commercials, lazily smirking at Kenny and Ernie on TNT, and being too winded to talk after a foot race with a 67 year old referee.

We can’t help but interpret the past through the distorted convex lens of the present. The recent history of what things have become inevitably informs our concepts of what they were, and also what we expect them to be. It’s not that I don’t know Sir Charles is a former MVP, a member of the Basketball Hall of Fame, and an Olympic gold medalist. It’s just that more recent memories are more accessible, and therefore are more apt to shape what comes to mind when I hear the syllables Charles and Barkley.

So what happens to our perception of the NBA after the lockout ends? How many fans will be so frustrated with the players or the owners or both that they just never come back? And how does the league itself function after this much vitriol has been so publicly aired? Assuming the sides agree on a deal tomorrow, how much damage has already been done? Even discounting the alienation of fans, how can these two sides go back to working with each other? How good can players feel about again working for their respective owners? How much trust has already been eroded?

I’m not sure there is an answer to all this, but what’s clear is that no one’s memory will be erased anytime soon and that the identity of the league as we know it will most certainly be changed. It already is.

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.

Sitting on my front porch last night, I was talking with my neighbor who at some point suggested she was thinking of getting into sports.  She said she’d like to have something to pay attention to, something to care about. She knows I’m a basketball fan and claimed the biggest obstacle to her interest is the fact that she just hates athletes, saying they remind her of politicians.

My first instinct was obviously to defend sports in general and basketball specifically, but as I rolled into my standard argument about the beauty of its fluid movement like dance and about how much more honest sports are as human drama than say your average 22 minute sitcom, I stopped myself.

Why should I try to convince her to value a thing that currently doesn’t even exist? Why should she (or any of us) care about childishly squabbling (b)millionaires who are daily demonstrating how much they don’t care about the people who fill their bloated bank accounts? Why is it that I spend so much of my time (time I could spend learning about physics or paleontology or curing a terrible disease like polio or maybe one that hasn’t been cured yet) watching, thinking, and reading about basketball?

To solve this existential sports dilemma, I’ve decided to do the most rational thing and make a pro/con list.

PRO

-Dirk’s crazy troll face and lion hair

CON

-The fact that I will never ever make my own uncomfortable whiteness and awkward jump shot look 1/20^th as cool

WINNER: Dirk’s crazy troll face!    +1 for Basketball

PRO

-It’s something I can talk to my family about that’s not politics or religion

CON

-I should probably be talking to them about more things than just sports

WINNER: Having a familial relationship that’s not completely superficial.  -1 for Basketball

PRO

-NBA Player/Rappers  (Exhibits A, B, C, D, E, & F)

CON

-Is there anything bad about this?

WINNER: Everyone!  +1 for Basketball

PRO

-Passion for something wholly arbitrary that can’t actually screw up my life if it goes wrong

CON

-Being dumped by girls who claim I care more about basketball than I do about them

WINNER: Tough one. Basketball’s pretty fun to care about.  Push

PRO

-The Dwayne Wade – David Stern finger pointing showdown

CON

-Holy crap, am I really going to be streaming European games in three months?

WINNER: As much as I love a good victory for the proletariat, I also would like to see pro games played in America before the end of the Mayan calendar.  -1 for Basketball

DECISION: I should probably find another hobby.

So defense is important (clearly, this is news to no one). But what will be different this up-coming season for the Rockets? Can we expect an improved defense? And what about the offense?

Superficially, it seems like the biggest difference between the Rockets we saw last season and the team we might see this December, barring any major (paging Dr. Howard) roster moves, will probably hinge on the disparity between Rick Adelman’s and Kevin McHale’s coaching styles.

But what can we expect from McHale? He’s bound to focus more on defense, right? Can we learn much of anything from his previous weeks as the Wolves coach? More flex sets on offense? He played for the Celtics in the 80’s. Can we assume that Budinger will grow a gnarly mullet? Can Thabeet learn the up and under? Your guess is as good as mine. But it seems like the most consistent theme to be gleaned from McHale’s press conferences and interviews about his approach to coaching is adaptability. He apparently intends to adapt his strategy/playbook/approach to fit the team’s personnel.

So what about the roster then? Other than the addition of Marcus Morris, it should look just about the same. Or will it? Last season, despite the fact that the team lost its franchise center and traded its starting point guard and small forward before March, only 5 lineups got more than 100 minutes of playing time together, all five of which included Lowry, Martin, and Scola, and three of the five also sported Chuck Hayes and Shane Battier. * So what about the first round pick that Morey gave up for Terrence Williams? Williams played 2% of the team’s available minutes at small forward. And what about Hasheem Thabeet? Last season for the Rockets he played a total of 4 minutes in 23 games, during which he collected three fouls, a missed shot, and a block.

But this year, with a little more breathing room on the roster and a management friendly players’ coach, this might change. Battier, who played 43% of the available minutes at small forward and Brad Miller who played 25% of the team’s center minutes are both no longer with the club. In addition, Jordan Hill, who boasted by far the worst adjusted plus/minus (-16.87) of any player on the team, saw his minutes (21% of center availables) significantly reduced by the season’s end. This should mean more playing time for guys like Thabeet and Williams, which, in the case of Thabeet in particular, could mean positive changes for the Rockets’ defense.

In an early interview as the newest Houston head coach, Kevin McHale stressed the importance of post defense.

McHale, speaking with every bit the conviction of his more experienced predecessors, made it clear what he would consider job one. In a span of seven minutes, he used the term “protect the paint” eight times. When discussing why he enjoyed his job with TNT and NBA TV, he said, “you have to protect the paint,” twice.

“I know how we’ll protect the paint with this team. We have to plug early, get your big guys over, load to the ball, stop that initial penetration. You can’t have straight-line drives, can’t have blow-bys. If you get into it and you’re lucky enough to get a huge, shot-blocking center, you can funnel everything to him a little more.”

Now, to assume based on his NBA track record thus far that Hasheem Thabeet can fill that role as your dependably “huge, shot-blocking center” might seem hopefully naive. But he certainly is huge and, by all accounts, can absolutely block his share of shots. The question then, I suppose, is whether he can do the other things necessary to stay on the court.

Personally, my biggest hope at present (outside of ten million dollars in a duffel-bag falling from the sky into my backyard) is for the NBA season to start on time. My second biggest hope is that Hasheem Thabeet manages to play his way out of the discussion of all-time draft busts and into a Houston starting lineup. The Rockets’ defense needs him to, like I need that bag full of money.

*an interesting note to make here is that despite how often Budinger’s defense is been maligned, substituting him for Battier (the second most common lineup last season) resulted in exactly the same number of points per possession by Rockets’ opponents.

Not that this is necessarily new news by any means (as the machine of new NBA news shakes and clanks as if it were built by a blind librarian and has recently been fueled like Doc’s Delorian in the second Back to the Future movie), but I just this morning (4 days late) read that Javaris Crittenton has finally made it to Atlanta to stand trial for murder.

I know that we’re all jaded to any form of shock or sympathy by the availability of information in this teenaged information age, but here’s a guy who could go to jail for a very long time. Let’s play nerdy sci-fi script writer and rewind Crittenton’s life a bit.

Just five years ago, he graduated from high school a two time state champion and moved out of his parents’ house and into (presumably) the Georgia Tech dorms.  As a top college recruit (despite kind of blowing it in the tourney against UNLV), he was drafted by the Lakers in the first round.

At this moment in J-Crit’s life, how excited is he for the future? How pumped is he to meet Kobe Bryant and Phil Jackson? How much has his life become the real fulfillment of his and every kid’s childhood fantasy? During the summer and fall of 2007, he has to be absolutely giddy, right? Calling old friends to gloat about what restaurant he’s at or actress he’s sitting next to, ending conversations by offering to fly them out so they can share a piece of his dream, too.

So what happened? That spring, he gets dumped by the Lakers in the Gasol heist and by Christmas Eve of the next year he’s suspended for a gun show-off with Agent Zero, effectively ending his NBA career. I remember thinking at the time that Crittenton’s part in that particular idiocy was the real tragedy, that only having been in the league a few years (and only having gotten any playing time for a few months the previous season) a mark like that could really hurt his chances of getting another contract, and it did.

A little frustrated bravado is one thing, but to kill someone, to shoot and kill another human being in an act of pure aggression (if the police report is true, he wasn’t trying to kill that lady, but he was certainly trying to kill someone) is something else entirely. Who or what could you possibly be so angry at that’s worth this? I just don’t get it and am not sure I ever will.

What is it that makes a person “good” at something? What is it about the things that certain people do, whether they be on a court, on a stage, on paper, or in a lab, that surprise, excite, and amaze us? How do we define such a nebulous idea as “talent”?

In the NBA, this idea is often synonymous with height, length, speed, or leaping ability. Players are often drafted (or not drafted) according to these metrics. Draft previews, online or otherwise, include specific measurements such as wingspan, max. vert., lane agility, standing reach, etc.

But what do these statistics really tell us? Can any of this data actually predict a player’s future success?

Certainly these calculables matter. In a game in which scoring occurs by putting a ball through a hoop above everyone’s head, simply being closer to that hoop can absolutely be counted as a skill, just as being the first one there can. But are these types of innate skills the only things that matter?

Anyone who’s ever watched basketball (or most any sport) knows they aren’t. For every player like Dominique Wilkins, Julius Erving, or LeBron James, there are a hundred guys like Darius Miles, Gerald Green, and Eddy Curry, guys who possess every necessary physical attribute but who, for whatever reason, are simply not effective NBA basketball players.

But what is it exactly that separates these two groups, that earned LeBron a nickname like ‘the King’ and Gerald Green a discount ticket to basketball obscurity? All things being equal physically (I’m not necessarily saying this is true to the letter, but they are at least comparable in height, hops, speed, and even age), both Green and James had access to NBA facilities and coaches, to the same technology and tutelage that should have, in theory, developed their natural abilities along similar trajectories.

So what is it then? Is LeBron just smarter/more able to absorb/understand the concepts required to play elite-level basketball than Green? (The term ‘Basketball IQ’ gets thrown around a lot but seems nearly as murky an idea as talent.)

Obviously, there are no simple answers to these types of questions, and being that a discussion such as this is, at its core, speculative, there may never be.

Michael Jordan, a man who knows a little something about talent, might provide us some insight on this matter. In a recent Truehoop post, Henry Abbott quotes a passage from Jordan’s 2005 book Driven From Within about last second shots:

I had put in all the work, not only in that particular game, but in practice every day… I was as prepared as I could possibly be for that moment. I couldn’t go back and practice a little harder.

On the surface, it’s, as Abbott describes, “an argument for preparation,” but hidden in that last line is another implication. That Jordan believes he “couldn’t” have “practice[d] a little harder” suggests a kind of commitment that most of us simply aren’t capable of. Not the kind of commitment you give to your job by showing up every day, but the kind that means you never go home. The kind of commitment that breaks up marriages. The kind of commitment that might be more accurately described as obsession.

It’s this sort of obsessive dedication that I believe allows some of us to turn ability into talent and also what makes being truly “good” at something more work than most of us are willing to do.

And I understand that this is a major issue throughout our culture that is more concerned with the president’s hairline and timber of his voice than necessarily with the changes he will make to our way of life, but I still don’t really care. And you can’t make me.

This fundamentally is the current problem with the NBA. Capitalism turns eyeballs into profit margins. The more attention a thing garners, the more real-life actual money it stands to make. The league could not survive without your local sporting goods store selling out of Dirk jerseys, all the idiots with Kobe’s face tattooed on their forearms, and all the other idiots who had LeBron’s removed from theirs.

The NFL season starts this week, on time, the players and owners having happily reconciled and returned their sport to its rightful place as America’s favorite bone-crushing entertainment, while the NBA, currently, doesn’t even exist at all.

So in honor of the lockout and the money the league stands to lose, I’ve put together a list of all the things N.B.A. currently stands for, because, as of right now, it certainly doesn’t stand for basketball.

The National Blood Authority

If you live in Australia and need to give or get blood, plasma or platelets, these are your guys. If you want to know more about haemovigilance or just feel like chatting up the Senior Executive Team, you’re in the right place. If you’re looking for high-flying dunks or ridiculous tattoos, probably not so much.

The National Beef Association

If you were in Newark this May, own a farm, or just really hate cows or your blood pressure, you may have been lucky enough to check out Beef EXPO 2011. (Also, in case you were curious, beef is apparently a “nutritionally action packed meal ingredient?”)

Northern Business Associates

I’m not really sure what this is all about, but they meet at Country Waffles Restaurant in Redding, CA “every Tuesday at 7:00 a.m.” and list “candy and gift baskets” as a service they provide. Last second three-point attempts? No. Colored cellophane and those orange peanut shaped marshmallow things? Yes!

The National Boxing Association

If you like boxing and need a job, this NBA has “a full and part-time employment program through a system called ‘Internet’, including free counseling service for persons without skills.”

Nationwide Biweekly Administration

Ok, so I’m pretty sure this one’s some kind of credit scam, but there is a smarmy guy on their home page who talks at you like a tiny floating internet Princess Leia telemarketer, if you’re into that sort of thing.
The National Bank of Anguilla

Admittedly, I had to look up where exactly this is. But even though Anguilla is a tiny island in the West Indies, I’d be willing to bet at least a some of the folks who live there have heard of basketball, and I’d also be willing to bet that at least one or two out of that group hope this bank isn’t the only NBA they hear about this year.

With the giant man in tow, perimeter players such as Kevin Martin and Kyle Lowry look to have been perfect cogs in an efficient inside/outside machine that now sputters and spits black smoke, leaving it longingly on the outside of a working plan, looking in.

What’s left are who we have to discuss, players with impossibly-sized shoes to fill. (We miss you, big man.)

Chuck Hayes

28-year-old NBA role players who’ve never averaged more than 22 minutes a game are supposed to be who they are, contributing in the ways they’re expected to and not adding new skills like sophomore lottery picks. But apparently no one informed Chuck Hayes of this nugget of practical wisdom. (thank you, no one.)

Two words: triple double. Did you (the ‘you’ here being ‘you’ the reader/self-aware NBA fan where ever you sit) ever think you’d read those two words and the name Chuck Hayes in the same sentence? Probably not, unless they referred to a player Chuck (I like to call him ‘Chuck’ like we’re friends or have ever met in actual life) may have had the unfortunate task of guarding on a particularly effective night. But here we are. It happened. And so did the Chuckwagon’s development of a reasonably productive offensive game, complete with high post passing and a hitch-less free throw form.

The man who can defend all five positions and has never, to my knowledge, been backed down in an NBA game is now also not a complete offensive liability? Why shouldn’t the team do everything in its power (within reason) to resign him, and when it does, why shouldn’t he start? I understand the argument against such a suggestion:  he doesn’t block shots. But neither does anyone else on the team who’s name doesn’t rhyme with Basheen Claheet. And I dare you to make a case for starting that lost puppy that doesn’t involve tanking for a lottery pick. Go ahead. I’m listening.

Jordan Hill

As with Chuck Hayes, Jordan Hill is probably a player who should more properly be included in a discussion of power forwards than centers, but this is where we find ourselves, team and fans alike. Coming out of college Hill was often compared to Amare Stoudemire, but since the draft about the only similarities between the two are that they have both played a home game at Madison Square Garden.

Hill has good size and athleticism, but if you watched any Rockets’ games last season, you probably saw him look lost on defensive rotations, hesitant on offense, and generally incompetent enough to, by the end of the season, lose the majority of his minutes to a rookie. Next season is the last guaranteed year on his contract, which, if he doesn’t start figuring some things out, could be his last in the NBA.

Hasheem Thabeet

The list of things we know about Hasheem Thabeet after two seasons in the NBA:

1. He’s very tall.

Thabeet blocks shots but so far isn’t so great at the actually playing offense or defense part of professional basketball. He averages enough fouls to be ejected from every game before logging 30 minutes on the court, and although centers often take a little time to come around, he’s 24 years old. Like Hill, the guaranteed portion of Thabeet’s contract is over after this coming season. And as well, like Hill, if he doesn’t start showing off some of that potential that made him a number two draft pick, his little time may also be up.

In recent NBA times, defining the power forward and center positions has been about as simple and clear as corporate tax code. Tim Duncan is apparently a power forward, while Mehmet Okur and Andrea Bargnani hoist three’s from the center position and Brad Miller passes out of the high post and looks cool in a headband.

For the Rockets, this ambiguity is not lost as the great fall of the giant man meant the team’s starting center was shorter than its shooting guard. Left to make sense of this mess, Kevin McHale’s starting line-ups next season are likely to be as consistent as Brandon Jennings’ jump-shot.

For the purposes of this lockout-(un)inspired task I’ve set myself upon, I’ve chosen three of the Rockets roster of post men to designate as Power Forwards.

Luis Scola

Let’s start with all there is to love about Scola’s game, because there really is quite a bit. Crafty doesn’t begin to describe his offensive contributions. While I’m not sure that I’ve ever actually seen him dunk, he scores around the basket with sneaky (scoopy) ease. When open, he has an effective jumper from the elbow and even rebounds a little. He excels at the fast break despite his ploddy sort of gait and had a career high water mark last season in PER at 18.43.

But then there’s the matter of his defense, which last year even seemed to lack the (often still ineffectual) effort he’d shown in previous seasons. Frankly, it was pretty much embarrassing to watch the man play on that half of the court, but if you watched the games, I’m telling you something you already know.

It’s obvious to everyone that if the season started tomorrow with the Rockets’ current roster that Houston’s favorite caveman should be the starting power forward. This is not even a question. He’s earned his place. But what he’s also earned in my estimation is a trade to a contending team, not because of his bad defense or anything negative about his play, but precisely because of the heart and effort he’s given to the team and to the city over the past four years. Scola will turn 32 before the end of this upcoming season and doesn’t deserve to languish away his remaining effective basketball years on a rebuilding franchise.

Patrick Patterson

Patterson started four of the five games Scola missed this past March with a knee injury, and while the first of the four wasn’t especially memorable, he posted double-doubles in the next three, notably putting up 18 and 12 with 4 blocks on 67% shooting in a drubbing of the Celtics at home. I remember at the time halfway hoping that Scola might decide to rest his sore knee for a few more games just so we could see what the kid could do.

A smart defender and efficient scorer, P-Pat didn’t seem intimidated by the NBA level of play. The usual rookie growing pains weren’t at all evident in the Kentucky star’s introduction as he managed a double-double in his first significant minutes in December. The relevant question it seems is how much he will improve on these initial efforts. His game already seems so polished that I genuinely wonder what more he has to offer. The good news for the Rockets is that even if Patterson simply continues his current, consistent production, he’ll be a valuable asset to the team moving forward.

Donatas Montiejunas

Montiejunas is a 7-footer who plays like a shooting guard: dribbles a lot, likes to face up and shoot the three, doesn’t rebound or play defense. He’s apparently very confident, and also apparently really loves eagles. If any of this scares you, it probably should. He certainly has a lot of (particularly offensive) potential, but he also has quite a lot of potential to massively (ok, maybe not so massively; he was taken 20th in the draft) flame out. Hopefully, Kevin McHale has a quality stash of magical big-man dust, because it looks like this kid might need it.

But that’s exactly what I’m about to argue, not that any of us could play professional sports if we just studied hard enough, but that an NBA player’s mentality might be just as important his physicality.

This consideration, I believe, is particularly relevant to the Rockets’ current cache of Small Forwards.

Chase Budinger

Budinger ended last season as the Rockets’ starting small forward and will most likely begin next season in the same position. He is a fantastic athlete, can finish on the fast break, dunk from the fifth row, and has a good (though odd looking) form on his jump-shot. When aggressive, he can drive and finish at the rim, hit 3’s, and generally convince everyone he’s really great at basketball.

The problem is that he’s wildly inconsistent on offense and consistently bad on defense. Last year, he shot 50% or better from beyond the arc 26 times but also, though he took a three in every game he played, didn’t hit a single one in 30 games, five times going 0-4 or worse.

The source of this inconsistency seems to be his confidence (Chase suggested as much himself in interviews last season). But this is a big problem (remember Luther Head?). Raw talent at just about anything isn’t enough to succeed. Success requires perseverance and commitment. Constantly being discouraged/disappointed can hurt your ability to improve, which, in a highly competitive environment like the NBA, can be disastrous. I hate to say this (and am prepared for the comment backlash) about a player with as much obvious potential as Budinger, but my hope is that the team can trade him this year while he still has value and before his confidence dips so much that he can’t stay on the court.

Terrence Williams

I was about to write a Williams’ preview/analysis when I noticed this article by Noam Schiller on Hardwood Paroxysm. Schiller extensively and eloquently articulates exactly how I (and many of us, I think) feel about Terrence Williams. Hopefully, this season he’ll prove us all wrong and live up to the potential he’s been teasing us with since his days at Louisville.

Marcus Morris

Morris is exactly the type of player that the two men above him on this list are not. His major limitations look to be physical, not mental. Honestly, he wasn’t a prospect I was especially excited about leading up to the draft as he’s not particularly a guy who screams star potential, but the more I read about him and the more tape I see of his days at Kansas, the more genuine interest I have in watching his development as an NBA player.

He has fantastic footwork in the post, isn’t afraid of contact, and is crafty around the basket. He rebounds well, has good handles and a textbook jump-shot that should extend to NBA three-point range. He has great awareness on defense, active hands, and plays hard on every possession. He was named the 2011 Big 12 Player of the Year, led Kansas to a Conference Championship and the elite eight in the NCAA Tournament. But, most importantly, he improved his game every year he was at Kansas and seems committed to continuing to do so.

So what’s not to like about the guy? He’s not exceptionally huge or athletic. I understand that to say this doesn’t matter in a sport that largely depends on hugeness and athleticism might seem naïve at best and plain ignorant at worst, but that’s basically what I’m saying. (Just ask Kevin McHale, Larry Bird, Reggie Miller, Shane Battier, Paul Pierce, and Kevin Love) I’m not a betting man, but if I were, I would wager that Marcus Morris has a longer and more productive career than either Chase Budinger or Terrence Williams, precisely because of what he brings to the table mentally, and regardless of what he lacks physically.

I’ve chosen to separate the players by position, though I realize that in this post-modern NBA doing so is a somewhat dubious and often generally pointless exercise. For the purposes of this column and my hopes of not drastically straying off topic, position will serve a purely functional distinction.

As I began last week with point guards (the easiest to define), we’ll stay in the backcourt this time around and discuss Shooting Guards.

Kevin Martin

Martin is about as intriguing an NBA player as they come. Not in the way that weirdos like Ron Artest (excuse me, Meta World Peace) or Kevin Garnett captivate us with their eccentricities, but for exactly the opposite reason. I can’t think of a single memorable post-game quote or highlight that litter other stars of Martin’s caliber’s portfolios. And make no mistake about it, despite his slight frame and seemingly diminutive on-court demeanor, Kevin Martin is a legitimate NBA star.

Martin finished second in scoring per 48 – minutes last season, behind only Kobe Bryant and ahead of the household names like Carmelo, Durant, LeBron, Wade, and Dirk. He was in the top twenty in PER despite the fact that he doesn’t collect rebounds, assists, steals, or blocks, the stats that usually keep pure scorers like him out of Hollinger’s highest ranks. What makes Martin such a special (and interesting) player is his uncanny ability to get to the free throw line. He tied the NBA scoring champ, Kevin Durant, for the most made free throws and was 4^th in free throw attempts last season.

Why is this so significant? A possession that ends in free throws is potentially more successful than one that ends in an open look or even a made shot, especially for a player like Martin who converts nearly 90% of his attempts, because it also results in a foul, which can not only take opposing players out of games but also lead to more team free throws. Wonder why the Rockets had one of the top rated offenses in the league last year? Look no further than Kevin Martin’s awkward pump fakes and floppy jumpers.

Before we move on and I choke on this Kevin Martin love sandwich, it should also be noted that he is an absolutely miserable defender. This was particularly a problem at the beginning of last season as he far too often shared the court with Brooks and Scola, leading to Globe Trotter style alley-oops for opposing teams and a considerable collection of sideline face-palms for Rick Adelman. And while Martin looked at times like he was somewhat aware of defense as an idea that exists in the world of basketball by the end of last season, he can’t reasonably be expected to turn into Tony Allen any time soon. What we can expect from Kevin Martin next season is for him to continue to do what he does best:  score as efficiently as anyone in the league.

Courtney Lee

Unfortunately for Courtney Lee, what most people probably remember him for is missing the game winning lay-up in the Finals against the Lakers. And even more lamentable is the fact that that’s probably what he’ll continue to be remembered for. Lee’s greatest assets are his defense and three point shooting, skills that won’t make him a super-star anytime soon but will earn him minutes on most any NBA team. What he did well last season, particularly after the all-star break, was play within himself. He’s not the guy you want initiating the offense for your favorite team, but he is a dead eye three point shooter off the catch. He generally makes good decisions with the ball and isn’t turnover prone. He won’t fall asleep on defense and gets the occasional fast-break igniting steal. His biggest obstacle next season might just be finding playing time on this crowded roster, though I suspect his consistent play will earn him that as well.

(If you get a chance, I’d also suggest reading the comments.)

One of the maxims of being a leader is to make yourself replaceable. I can’t remember what business guru said it, likely because they lost their job before becoming famous.

Full Story from the Harvard Business Review

Of the 17 men currently listed as Houston Rockets (counting Marcus Cousin and Marqus Blakely), only three are older than 25, and only one, Scola, is older than 28. The roster is nearly three deep at every position, teeming with young players with something to prove and a limited number of available minutes in which to prove it. With the coaching staff overhauled to a presumably more Morey-ball friendly bunch, we’ll most likely see long, shifting rotations that will look to experiment with player combinations rather than cleanly divide the starters from the bench.

If this holds true, most everyone on the roster will more than likely at some point have a shot to make his mark. But who will distinguish himself and who will get lost in the fray?

Over the next few weeks, I’ll attempt to make sense of this madness, one position at a time.

First up: Point Guard

Kyle Lowry

I discussed in April what I think Lowry could mean to the Rockets’ future.  Despite the team’s general state of flux, his performance over the second half of last season made him the clear incumbent to beat for the starting point guard spot. His stellar defense and ability to push the tempo on offense were evident even in his first few seasons in Memphis, but the development of his three-point shot and willingness to be a team leader on both sides of the floor are what could eventually make him an elite NBA point guard. If he can keep up the torrid pace he set for himself after the all-star break, by the middle of next season, he could be turning heads in more locales than just Southwest Texas.

Goran Dragic

Dragic is the perfect back-up point man. He hustles for loose balls and is a willing and relatively competent passer. His jump shot is streaky but can be effective in limited minutes. He’s not a great defender (though spelling Steve Nash may have made him seem like one) and will occasionally sell out for a steal but isn’t going to get beat of the dribble on every possession either. His greatest attribute (always a back-handed compliment) is his effort level. At 25, Dragic may not develop into an all-star floor general, but his motor could easily earn him minutes on most NBA teams. His problem this year, though, may just be the Rockets’ draft-day acquisition of Johnny Flynn.

Johnny Flynn

Flynn, chosen 6^th overall, joins the Rockets already extensive collection of 2009 draft lottery busts (Thabeet #2, Jordan Hill #8, and Terrence Williams #11). Much like the rest of this breakfast club, Flynn’s NBA career thus far can only be graded as an incomplete. He’s an extraordinary athlete with blow by speed and an impressive vertical. The form on his jump shot is textbook, and he’s creative around the basket. He’s also only six feet tall (5’11” according to some). And while he has good handles, he tends to over-dribble and turn the ball over, isn’t a great passer, and doesn’t often (enough) look to involve his teammates. Although he seems to have the potential to develop into a good defender (strength, lateral quickness, etc.), he certainly hasn’t shown any signs of the commitment it takes to do so just yet. Basically, he’s been a terrible NBA player up to this point. But he’s also still only 22. And he was also playing in a dysfunctional triangle offense that, even if functional, would not have suited his skill set. So do I hope the Rockets give him minutes this upcoming season and try to encourage his potential development? Absolutely. Could he continue to miserably inefficient on both sides of the floor and gun himself out of the league in two years? Absolutely.

The Large Man, the Great Wall, Big Guy, the Big Fella, His Hugeness, the Ming Train, Yaodre the Giant – all nicknames we will no longer utter in Houston or elsewhere for any purpose other than memory.

An odd thing about this particular universe, its relationship of space and time, is that we all collect memories like mp3s. Our hard drives fill until they fail or are corrupted. We hope and love to remember and hope to be remembered ourselves as fondly as we recall.

I am two months older than Yao Ming, and if you told me I had to retire from everything I love to do tomorrow, I’d probably cry, openly and desperately, and mostly what I would hope, after selfishly mourning my own loss, is that I’d have done enough to be remembered.

And sports is, we all know, as frivolous as anything, but its metaphors are also just as potent. Those individuals who commit themselves to becoming good and great at sports realize their opportunities are necessarily limited, in the way that all of our opportunities are limited, but even more strictly, which is why injuries in athletics can seem particularly tragic.

Yao Ming is not the first ever athlete to suffer a career ending injury. In professional basketball alone, the list of players who’ve had their careers prematurely cut short is nearly too long to count. And that’s not considering all those who didn’t even make it far enough for us to learn their names.

My hope is that Yao will be remembered as the truly great basketball talent that he is, a force on offense and defense with post moves and a soft touch that could make anyone forget, if that’s at all possible, that he’s the biggest human we’ve ever laid eyes on.

In January of 2008, a friend of mine who works for CBS graciously invited me to check out a Rockets game with him from his company’s seats. These weren’t floor seats but certainly closer than I’d ever been, about eight or so rows back if I remember correctly. The game was against the Hornets and a little more than two weeks before the team went on its 22 game win streak and six weeks before Yao went down with a stress fracture in his left foot, the first of his now infamous troubles with the injury. But on this night he was healthy, and even though the Rockets lost the game, Yao went for 30 and 16 with 4 blocks.

My first impressions as we sat down were simply how huge all the players were, how they dwarfed the court, made it look like the NERF basketball hoop I had hung on the back of my bedroom door as a kid, but especially Yao. He somehow managed to make these other giants look small. Even Tyson Chandler, who checked him most of night, reminded me of a ten year old trying to guard his teenaged brother.

And despite sharing the arena with the amazing dervish that is Chris Paul, on this night Yao Ming was, without question, the best player on the court. The offense ran through him (MacGrady was out at the time with a knee injury) on every play. Chandler played excellent defense all game, but it didn’t matter. If he didn’t get the position he wanted, Yao just shot over him or spun around him on the baseline for a layup or created contact and knocked down his free throws.

In the final seconds, with the Rockets down three, Luther Head got run off the three point line and then had his lay-up blocked at the rim by David West, and after an offensive rebound, Yao ended up attempting the game-tying three.

My first thought, of course, was “What in the hell is wrong with our offense that we’re setting up a play for Luther Head at the end of a game?” But as Yao took that shot, I do remember this:  when it came off his hand, I fully expected it to go in.

But here is where we have to consider context. Just because we didn’t see their obvious replacements on the court before May doesn’t mean they weren’t necessarily on the roster.  As it has been noted elsewhere, Rick Adelman’s departure was rumored to have been fueled by personnel disputes with Mr. Morey, who one can assume didn’t trade valuable assets for both Terrence Williams and Hasheem Thabeet just to see them look good in their respective suits. So depending on how much faith the geek squad has in these two lottery cast-offs, Morey and Co. could, in theory, be considering more than just centers and small forwards in this draft.

So who will the Rockets choose?

The good news is that the team looks to have options. The general consensus that this is a ‘weak’ draft class and the Rockets’ three picks and team full of trade assets would seem to indicate that Houston is in position to move up. The obvious ideal would be to trade for Minnesota’s number two pick, which rumor-wise appears available, but they would probably only accept Kevin Martin in return. Initially, it seems very questionable to trade a proven asset for a potential one, but I personally can’t say I’ve seen enough tape on Williams to make a judgment call either way. In a perfect world the Wolves execs’ might accept a depth buffet and some picks in lieu of Martin, but even Kahn would most likely not agree to such a cents-on-the-dollar proposal.

The question then is, if the Rockets don’t land the T-Wolves pick, should they still try to break into the top ten? Would there be a player available in the bottom half of the top ten who represents a significant upgrade to the players available at the number 14 slot? Personally, I’m not convinced that there will necessarily be, but, whatever the case, this does seem to be the Rockets’ moment. Hopefully, it’s a memorable one.

(Note:  nbadraft.net has Houston taking Chris Singleton at the 14. If you’re not familiar with their site, they’re usually eerily pretty accurate with the predictions. Singleton, a long, defensive oriented small forward, from what I can glean, looks like he might fit in very well with this heady, upstanding bunch.)

With guys like Harrison Barnes, Jared Sullinger, Jeremy Lamb, and Perry and Terrence Jones seemingly scared off by the potential lockout, the lottery looks to be full of players who, like Andrew Johnson’s presidency or the ‘99 Spurs, are simply there by default. The draft talk all year seemed to suggest that this one would be thin, and now it looks to be even thinner (sorry, Cleveland).

Because of this and the Rockets’ need for an infusion of young/any talent, the team might be in a position to trade up.

While I am as generally ambivalent toward the draft for need vs. best available argument as I am about nature vs. nurture, I do think the Rockets’ brass can’t afford to ignore the roster of hard-working, (mostly) young talent they already have.

The team as currently constructed is not in need of back-court help. With Lowry/Dragic and Martin/Lee, the Rockets boast one of the better back-courts in the league. With that in mind, trading up to snag Kemba Walker or Brandon Knight would more than likely also require trading a current player/starter (i.e. Lowry or Martin) to make room for the rookie, minutes wise, which, to me, at best would probably be a lateral move in terms of the team’s overall success/talent and more likely, at least initially, a step backward. Therefore, I think the Rockets should (and probably will) target a big man.

After watching whatever tape I could find lying around the internet and reading the various observations of the various pundits, I personally think the best two candidates to fill the Rockets’ big-man needs are Enes Kanter and Bismack Biyombo.

I won’t bore you with the specifics you can find elsewhere online about either, but, needless to say, they’re both big. And while both seem to be teeming with potential, neither is guaranteed to be a success in the NBA.

This year, Kanter was slated to join Calipari’s/William Wesley’s NBA combine at Kentucky and, coming into the season, was widely considered a potential number one overall pick, but a personal indiscretion left him with a seat next to Coach John as an enormous cheerleader for the entirety of this year’s Wildcat campaign.

While Kanter looks to have real potential, no one has yet to see him face actual high-level competition in a game scenario (outside of the 2010 Nike Hoop Summit, of course, in which he broke Dirk Nowitzki’s record in that particular annual exhibition by scoring a tidy 34 points on 13 of 21 shooting with 13 boards in 24 minutes).

The problem with Kanter is that he’ll probably go #3 or #4 to either Utah or Cleveland respectively, and for the Rockets to trade into either spot, the team will most certainly have to give up significant assets, i.e. Martin/Lowry. But if the Rockets are high enough on the guy or if either team would consider Scola and some change (which I doubt), Kanter most certainly could be worthwhile consideration. (The same argument also applies to trading into the #2 spot for Derrick Williams.)

Bismack Biyombo is a similar case in that, like Kanter, he’s still largely unproven against high-level competition, again with the exception being a spectacular showing at the Nike Hoop Summit, posting its first ever triple double (points/rebounds/blocks). For the past two seasons, he’s played professionally in the ACB (Spanish professional league) where, in limited minutes, he led the league in blocks by a significant margin. Getting most of his points off of offensive rebounds and dunks, Biyombo looks to be very raw offensively, but he’s got the length (7’7″ wingspan), size, and elite athleticism to be a defensive force in the NBA.

Right now, most mock drafts have Biyombo going at the 13 spot, one sooner than the Rockets’ 14^th pick, but he could be taken higher. The hope (mine, in particular) is that if he doesn’t fall to the Rockets at 14, the team might not have to give up all that much to move up a few spots to get him.

Whatever the case, this Houston team needs to improve, and, hopefully, with all the uncertainty surrounding this year’s draft, Morey and the Rockets find a way to use the rest of the league’s hesitation to help themselves.

This week we discuss how the new decade has brought a changing of the NBA guard and what ever happened to Michael Sweetney. Also, a Yao Ming injury update and Thabo Sefolosha vs. Serge Ibaka.

Posted Up: Paradigm Shift Part 1

Posted Up: Paradigm Shift Part 2

Posted Up is a regular conversation between friends and red94 contributors Jacob Mustafa and Eric Todd.

Now I’m not one to criticize success. I may consistently cheer for the underdog, but I don’t equivalently cheer against the favorite. As a rule, I enjoy the game of basketball. I find it to be generally more compelling and honest than most other forms of entertainment.

And the Lakers are pretty much the definition of success when it comes to the NBA. When you’ve appeared in more than half of your sport’s championships and won more than half of your appearances, you’ve earned yourself a little respectful deference.

Also, though, when you’ve been lucky enough to be so talented and thoroughly dominant, you’re usually expected to behave like an adult, to give the respect you demand, even when things don’t go your way.

The thing that I personally appreciate most about the NBA, and sports in general, is the sincere effort that this sort of competition demands. But what has been funny (and kind of amazing) about this particular incarnation of the Lakers is that they’re so talented, they haven’t always had to try.

And, to me, that’s what the real shame of all this has been, that we’ll inevitably have to view this series as a Lakers failure and not a Mavs success. That may have been how many would have seen any scenario in which Dallas won this series, but a win like this, with ‘collapse’ written in all-caps on the Wikipedia description, with the defending champs and resident basketball virtuosos failing to even compete and pouting like spoiled school children in the final minutes, robs the Mavericks of the dignity of their hard-fought win.

As a fan of the NBA, I’m excited about the unexpected storyline of this upset, but also equally disappointed with the fact that the Lakers had so little respect for themselves and for basketball that they decided it wasn’t worth their time to show up.

This attachment, like most attachments, suggests a degree of loyalty. And loyalty in this western culture is most often seen as a virtue, as a trait to be admired. We often hear the expression, “loyal fan(s),” passed around as euphemism implying “good fan(s).” This understanding of morality also implies its opposite as an equal truth. If loyalty connotes dignity and strength of character, then conversely infidelity suggests a lack of virtue and the trappings of an intrinsically weak character.

The problem with these types of value judgments is how we apply them to sports. Our emotional attachments to our favorite sports teams lead us to perceive players not as the employees of major international corporations, men with jobs and self interests like the rest of us, but as symbolic representatives of our cities, our states, ourselves. The disconnect here between fans and players lies in the fact that sports, at its heart, is business. The players on your favorite team are not from your town. They aren’t the owners’ sons. They don’t know that you bought their jerseys and have watched every game since you were eight. They are men with jobs, seeking to stay employed and seeking the best possible working relationships they can find.

Free Agency, in particular, seems to be troublesome in this regard. We all look forward to the excitement of the offseason, of the possibility of our teams’ improving through the addition of new talent. But with addition also comes subtraction. Seeing a former player for our favorite team in a new uniform, representing a different place, can be disconcerting. An amicable departure, at best, leaves us with a certain longing, like an old friend who moves away. But less congenial circumstances can leave us feeling jilted, betrayed, like the sight of an unfaithful ex-lover with someone new.

No one has been hit harder in recent years by the perception of this kind of sports infidelity than Lebron James. Despite the fact that no one has yet made a reasonable argument that James’ former job with the Cavaliers was more favorable in terms of potential for on-court success than his position with the Heatles, nearly everyone seems to have been personally offended by his choice to leave. James is nearly universally seen as a villain, a soulless mercenary who betrayed the love and trust of an entire region, and not as a man who simply saw an opportunity to get a better job and took it.

Now, with the Heat having taken a 2-0 series lead on the incumbent Eastern Conference Champs, what I’m left to wonder is how winning might rearrange this narrative. If Miami wins a title this year or next, will the ire that James and company have born over the past year be softened? Will Lebron James again be appreciated as the fantastic round-ball warrior that he is? I have to think that he will, that winning might eventually absolve him of his particular crime.

And I also have to think that all this is pretty unfortunate, that someone was publically derogated for seeking a better life.