Doug Collins was the first overall pick and an all-star for the Philadelphia 76ers back in the heyday of the 1970s. He was always well-respected here for his intensity during his playing days, and he's always spoken kindly of Philadelphia, including when he returned to become head coach three years ago.
As such, Collins has been somewhat of a fan favorite over the years. Even when he frustrates the fans, they tend to offer the usual kind caveats about him, myself included.
Well guess what? Not anymore. Not here. Not from this guy. After the Sixers lost their fifth straight game last night after falling to the Orlando Magic, I cannot possibly say another kind word about Doug Collins until he is no longer employed as the head coach of the Philadelphia 76ers. Now, I'm not mad at Doug for the Sixers losing the game and falling to 23-39 on this unmercifully long season. Hell, I'm completely on board the tanking train. This team should be more worried about securing a good draft position to stockpile young talent.
No, I'm completely and utterly done with Doug Collins thanks to his completely, ridiculously insane comments about Nikola Vucevic — who again dominated the Sixers inside with a 14-point, 17-rebound effort — whom Collins coached as a rookie last year. Here are his remarks:
Collins said the biggest change that he's seen in Vucevic's game since the Sixers dealt him to the Magic is as simple as him getting more playing time. "I saw him at draft camp and said, 'That's my guy," Collins said. "Skilled, big, strong, and got a good feel for the game. A great kid. I love Nik. When he got minutes for us last year he performed very well."
What? No, seriously, what? Is Doug Collins aware that he was solely responsible for Vucevic's minutes last year? Is he aware that he's the one who buried Nik on the bench in favor of the ridiculously soft and all-around terrible Spencer Hawes?
Sit your ass back down!
If Nik Vucevic was "his guy," why the fuck did he turn his back on him? If when Nik "got minutes for us last year he performed very well," why the hell didn't he get more minutes? The only logical response to any of these questions is that Doug Collins is an insane person. That's it. That's the only explanation. Doug Collins is certifiably insane. And he should no longer be allowed to coach any professional basketball team for as long as he lives.
Now, a lot of people like to point out that Doug can't be blamed for this abysmal season given that it's been hijacked by Andrew Bynum. Never mind that Doug had a very big hand in the Bynum deal, and never mind that the guy has a history of ignoring or stunting young players in favor playing aging veterans. The simple fact of the matter is Doug Collins has no idea how to coach a team with long-term intentions, probably because he's never coached anywhere long term in his life.
The fact that he buried the rookie Vucevic in favor of the likes of the mediocre Hawes and nearly washed-up Elton Brand is proof of that. Now freed from the insanity of Collins, Vucevic is a walking double-double machine and top five rebounder in the NBA, hauling in 11.4 boards per game. For reference, Spencer Hawes and Elton Brand each averaged just a shade over 7 rebounds per game last year, more than four less than Vucevic is averaging now that he actually plays. This year, Spencer Hawes is only averaging 6.6 boards a game, tied with guard Evan Turner, and Lavoy Allen a laughable 5.4 rebounds a game. Pathetic.
Furthermore, Vucevic has absolutely destroyed Hawes, Lavoy Allen and anyone the Sixers have thrown at him this year on the boards, averaging 11.7 points and 16.7 rebounds against his former team.
So yes, Doug, Vucevic is "skilled, big, strong, and got a good feel for the game." And now that he's getting real minutes, he's proving exactly that. Why wasn't he afforded that opportunity last season by the guy who proclaims to love him? Because Doug Collins is an insane person. That's the only way his remarks make any sense.
Over the past couple of weeks, I've written fairly glowingly of the Sixers. They turned in a much better season than I expected in Doug Collins' first season at the helm, play hard and truly embrace team basketball. But after hearing the devastating news that Free Darko and its liberated fandom posts are closing up shop and then watching the Sixers take on the Magic last night, I realized something: I don't particularly like the players on the Sixers.
That doesn't mean I hate all of the players on the roster. In fact, there are a couple guys I really like. But as I watched Chester native and St. Joe's grad Jameer Nelson rain threes en route to dropping 19 points and 7 assists, including the alley-oop to Dwight Howard that essentially decapitated Jrue Holiday, I came to the realization that there are no players on the Sixers I love the way I love Jameer … and a large number of other players throughout the league.
The liberated fan in me doesn't get excited that much about anyone on the Sixers. Now, I am a Sixers fan first and foremost, which is why I'm so happy with the season this team put forth and why I cannot ever abandon them. But I'd be lying if I said I'd be devastated if they traded away a certain player. When Allen Iverson was traded, I was devastated, even though we all knew it was coming, knew it had to happen and that it was the right move for the organization. When Charles Barkley was traded in my really young days, I was devastated, because I loved watching this 6'4" monster outrebound players half a foot taller or more and then go coast-to-coast.
The Sixers always had at least one player I loved, whether it was Hersey Hawkins, Dana Barros, Allen Iverson, George Lynch, Theo Ratliff, even players like Aaron McKie, Dikembe Mutombo and Jerry Stackhouse. There was some sort of emotional attachment to those players that was different than just pulling for the team. But it truly dawned on me last night during that 95-85 loss that if any of these players were on any other team, I don't think I'd really care about them at all. There is no Jameer Nelson, Brandon Jennings, Blake Griffin, Josh Smith or any other number of NBA players that I love for one reason or another on this roster. There just isn't.
The closest thing to that is Jrue Holiday.
I remember hearing about Jrue coming up through the ranks out in California as one of the nation's top recruits. He was highly touted and heralded, but I didn't really latch on to him the way I did to Brandon Jennings or Tyreke Evans and Maalik Wayns (for obvious reasons with those last two) when he was in high school. And even though I was intrigued with him in college, he had an underwhelming year. Still, I was excited that the Sixers were able to nab him in the draft, because the word on the street was he had top 10 talent. The problem is I would have much preferred that the Sixers drafted Ty Lawson, a player I fell in love with during his three seasons at North Carolina.
I still like Jrue a lot and expect him to become a nice point guard in this league. He's the one I pull for the most on this squad. And who knows, maybe in a year or two he will that player I absolutely love. I do like him a lot. But I know in my heart of hearts that I wouldn't really care that much about Holiday if he wasn't a Sixer, while I follow Lawson's box score damn near every night.
Honestly, the only other guy who can even enter the discussion is Thaddeus Young. Two seasons ago, Thad was emerging as the Sixers' best player, and his energy, hustle and dedication to improving his game had me all sorts of excited.
Then last year happened. Under Eddie Jordan, Thad regressed. He fell in love with a three-point shot that he can make but shouldn't take often. He stopped slashing to the hoop, getting out in transition and rebounding with abandon. He was a different player, a softer player, and he started to fall out of favor with me. I still liked him, but I honestly didn't care if the Sixers decided to trade him.
This year, Thad has been tremendous, and of late, he's back to emerging as the most explosive player on this team. I enjoy watching him. I like him. And I want to root for him. But if the Sixers let him walk, I'm not sure I'd be heartbroken. I can't really explain why. Maybe it's because I see he probably won't become an all-star. Maybe it's because I expect more consistency. Or maybe I would be devastated and just don't know it yet. But for whatever reason, Thad isn't quite there with me. He's good, he's had a great season, and he's one of the main reasons watching this team is so fun, so maybe he'll get there too, the way Jrue looks like he may sooner rather than later.
But beyond that, I don't have a particularly vested interest in any other player. I like Lou Williams as a Jason Terry-type player — a potent bench scorer. But again, I'm not attached to him in any way.
Andre Iguodala is the Sixers' best all-around player and most talented athlete. I absolutely love to watch him throw down emphatic dunks, play lock-down defense, and rebound and pass as well as any point-type forward out there not named LeBron. He's playing arguably the best basketball of his life, easily the best defense of his career and not trying to do too much. But there's always the matter of that crippling contract, him being miscast as the man and his god-awful end-of-game shots.
In Iggy's case, he's a victim of the status bestowed upon him by the team. It's not fair to him, I know, because I actually really, really like Andre Iguodala's game. If he was cast as the the third or maybe even second best player on the squad, asked to be the defensive stopper and a distributor/slasher on offense, he probably would be that guy I'm attached to. But he's not. He's the guy the Sixers were comfortable turning the keys over to. So comfortable that they traded Iverson. And he just can't fill those shoes. When he shoots an ill-adivsed three, dribbles the ball off his foot or takes an 18-foot fadeaway on a last-second shot, or stops attacking the rim, it frustrates the hell out of me to the point that it can overshadow all of the incredible things he does on the court. Iguodala is a great defender, excellent rebounder, tremendous finisher around the hoop, good passer. But at times he just tries to be more than he is, because the Sixers ask him to. This year, he's been at his best because Collins hasn't asked as much of him. But he's still tasked with being the leader that he's not meant to be, and it takes something away, whether that's fair or not.
Then there's Elton Brand, a player I'll never like because he went to Duke, has never been a winner in the NBA and simply is not the 20-10 guy this team thought it was getting. Elton's had a great year. He leads the Sixers in scoring and rebounding. And truth of the matter is he's been the team's best, most consistent player all year long. I respect that, respect the work he's put in after last year's injury-riddled debacle under Jordan. But I'll never like Elton Brand. I'll root for him because he's a Sixer, but I'll never like him. That's just he way it is.
The same goes for Evan Turner, the Sixers' increasingly underwhelming 2nd overall pick. I'm not giving up on Evan Turner because that would be foolish. He's had some really good games for the Sixers this season and shown flashes. But the fact remains that he hasn't been very good overall. Last night, watching him play versus watching Andres Nocioni play, it's incredibly clear that Nocioni is by far the better player right now. It's not even close. And that's not very reassuring for a No. 2 overall pick, being significantly less effective than a career journeyman, albeit a tough-minded, effective one.
It doesn't help that Turner is from Ohio State, a school I deplore. And last night it hit me that much like Elton Brand, I hate Evan Turner. I hate that he's a Buckeye. I hate that he was the guy this team had to take at No. 2 overall. I hate how his elbow sticks out on his jump shot. I hate his voice. I hate that he has had an unimpressive rookie year. I just really don't care for Evan Turner.
Despite all of that, I want him to succeed. I'm pulling for him to turn into a really good player worthy of his selection, because that would be best for the Sixers. But I don't think I'll ever be able to fully embrace Evan Turner. He's a guy I hated in college and would hate if he was anywhere else more than I already don't care for him. I hope he can become what the Sixers expect and sway my opinion, but he doesn't excite me at all.
The rest of the roster I have very little feelings toward at all: Spencer Hawes, Jodie Meeks, Nocioni, Antonio Daniels, Marreese Speights, Tony Battie, the carcasses of Craig Brackins and Darius Songaila. Those guys are what they are, which Speights being the most intriguing but most frustrating, because he is the most talented. But I don't get overly worked up about him either. Once upon a time I liked Jason Kapono, but then he forgot how to do the one thing he was actually good at doing when he came to Philadelphia, so I don't care at all about him anymore.
The Sixers are a fun and exciting team to watch. They're learning how to win on a small scale. They aren't going to stand a chance against the Heat and can't contend with the star power of most teams, but they are a team that will put up a fight and a team that you can get behind. But they don't have many individual players that get my blood going, that excite and infatuate me.
I love the Sixers the way I love the Flyers and Eagles and Phillies. But I don't love the players. There is no Allen Iverson, no DeSean Jackson, no Claude Giroux or Kimmo Timonen. There is no Roy Halladay or Cliff Lee. No Ryan Howard or Shane Victorino. There is no Jameer Nelson. No Brandon Jennings. No player that I am fully invested in.
It took the shuttering of Free Darko for me to realize that. And that's just another reason why it's a sad day to see Bethlehem Shoals shut down shop. Liberated fandom will live on even without Free Darko, even if it feels like something is missing. I just hope it happens with someone on this iteration of the Sixers for me. Because being a fan is more fun when you really, truly care about the players on your favorite teams.
You saw it. I saw it. And if you didn't see it, you are incredibly lucky.
Up 4 with 22 seconds to go, Andre Iguodala decided it would be a good idea to reach in on Jason Richardson at the three-point line. Then the damn shot goes in. You can call it ticky-tac, because frankly it was. Iguodala barely touched Richardson. But it was insanely stupid regardless. Iggy should have been nowhere near even touching his man behind the three-point arc, let alone reaching his hand in. But he did, finding an even more creative way to prove just how un-clutch he truly is. If you're in a tight game down the stretch, Andre Iguodala will find a way to screw it up — offensively or defensively. Being that close to Richardson is just plain inexcusable.
But you know what's just as inexcusable? The game plan down the stretch by Doug Collins.
I like Doug Collins. I think he's a pretty good coach and has a great basketball mind. But sometimes he does things that just make absolutely no sense whatsoever. His designed offense in the final minutes of last night's blown game was one of those times.
With less than 3 minutes to play, the Sixers trailed Orlando by a bucket. That's when Jrue Holiday hit a tough turnaround jumper to tie the game with 2:15 remaining. After a stop, he then hit another sick turnaround to put Philadelphia up 84-82 with 1:35 remaining. The second-year point guard was coming up big in the clutch … and then he didn't touch the ball the rest of the damn game.
Instead of keeping the ball in his starting point guard's hands, the kid who just hit two awesome shots to tie the game and then give the Sixers the lead, Doug Collins elected to run the offense through Lou Williams and Andre Iguodala the rest of the way, with those guys iso-ing on one side of the floor and playing a two-man game.
Just to make that clear, Collins thought it would be a better idea to put the ball in Lou Will's hands, the same guy who clanked a couple key free throws recently, to make the decisions, and the run the entire offense around him and Iguodala, who despite a few game-winners in his career has proven to be a less-than-optimal option in the clutch, than it would be to let his starting point guard who had a hot hand decide the outcome with the ball in his hands. Isn't this guy supposed to be a wise, veteran coach?
Predictably, Collins' plan couldn't have backfired any worse. Yes, Iguodala did hit one of his cringe-worthy fadeaway jumpers with 1:04 left to put the Sixers up 86-84, and Lou Will added a free throw off a tech to make it 87-84 with 49.4 left to play. Hell, the Sixers even extended the lead to 89-84 with a couple more Iggy free throws. Then the other shoe dropped, and it all came crashing down. After J.J. Redick made it 89-86, Lou Will only made one of two from the line with 22.1 left. If he hits them both, the game is over. He did not.
That's when Iguodala committed the foul, Richardson hit the three and capped off the four-point play, and Lou Will ended regulation with one more iso play that resulted in a fall-away three-point heave with a power forward covering him. Yes, the shot rattled around and looked like it was going to fall, but it didn't. And even if it did go in, that doesn't mean it was a good shot. It wasn't. At all. Why Lou didn't drive past the bigger, slower Brandon Bass to the hoop — especially with Dwight Howard fouled out — is beyond me.
Even more baffling is why Collins completely took Holiday out of the offense after he had hit two big shots late in the fourth and was doing a good job scoring, finishing with 16 points.
I just don't get it. After hitting consecutive shots to give the Sixers the lead, Jrue didn't get another shot up. Not one. Meanwhile, Williams and Iguodala took every shot in the final 1:35 of regulation and the entire overtime with the exception of a Thaddeus Young dunk with 43 seconds remaining a missed Evan Turner hook shot with 2 seconds left.
Uncoincidentally, the Sixers blew another late lead and lost in overtime. The future of this team is Jrue Holiday. That's plain for everyone to see. Now's the time to put the ball in his hands when it matters. Instead, his coach and teammates iced him out when in the most important moments of the game, and a late lead turned into an embarrassing overtime loss. Again.
We know how the story ends with Lou Will and Andre Iguodala deciding the outcome. It would be nice to find out if things could be different with Holiday. Now it's up to Collins and his teammates to allow that to happen.
Last season, the Orlando Magic rode the three-headed attack of Dwight Howard, Rashard Lewis and Hedo Turkoglu to the NBA Finals. This year, they're an even more fearsome bunch, this postseason being led by a four-headed monster: Dwight Howard, Rashard Lewis, a healthy Jameer Nelson and Vince Carter.
That's a foursome that should send shivers down anyone's spine — Lakers, Cavs, Suns, Celtics, everyone. Especially when these four play like they did last night. Each one of them scored at least 20 points, all shooting 50 percent from the field or better. Dwight Howard was a man amongst boys, leading all scorers with 29 points, adding a beastly 17 boards, shooting 8-9 from the field and making 13 of 18 free throws. Rashard Lewis had 20 himself on 7-13 from the field and 3-8 from beyond, adding four boards, six assists, a block and a steal for an all-around excellent floor game.
But it was Jameer Nelson and especially Vince Carter who stole the show late.
Jameer continued his brilliant playoff run, proving that last season's all-star start was no fluke. He scored 20 points on 7-14 from the floor, 2-6 from three and handing out 6 assists. He made a back-breaking three to help the Magic, who trailed at the half, pull away in the final quarter, and rendered Mike Bibby so useless that the Hawks' starting point guard played less than 14 minutes.
But the biggest story of night was Vinsanity reasserting himself. After a passive first half, Vince flat went off in the second, scoring 20 of his 24 points in the second half, 11 in the final quarter to bring the Magic back from an 8-point halftime deficit to a going-away win. It was Half-Man, Half-Amazing stuff, throwing down a monstrous dunk, nailing deep threes, crashing the glass, even going down and making a ridiculous block, then coming right back down on the other end and nailing a deep three that pretty much ended the game.
He scored 24 in all, shooting 9-16 from the field, 2-5 from three, 4-4 from the line. He had 7 boards, a steal and a block. And he completely dominated in the second half, the single biggest factor in the comeback win. Atlanta had no answer for him. None whatsoever. He was putting on such an amazing show, I couldn't help but find my eyes wandering to our top TV to gaze in awe, despite watching a great documentary on the Broad Street Bullies simultaneously. Only an otherworldly performance could pull my eyes away for even a second from something like that, and Carter put on a display worthy of such an honor.
Vince was the man everyone always wanted him to be, leading his team to a big playoff victory. And yet, even when he puts on a performance for the ages, it still pisses people off. Why can't he do this all the time? Where was this all along? Why didn't he become the next Michael Jordan?
To that, I say, enough. Enjoy the man for what he is, not for what he is not. Just because people like Bill Simmons insist he's a cancer (not a totally unfounded claim, to be fair), that doesn't mean he's a guy you can't win with, a player who's not clutch. No, he's never won a championship, but he sure as hell has led his team to many victories, hit a long line of game-winning shots, and put up some ridiculous performances. And he did it again last night. Instead of questioning his motives or wondering what could have been, maybe everyone should be asking themselves if Vinsanity makes the Orlando Magic unbeatable.
If the four-headed monster can play like it did last night, the answer may be yes. Plenty of people questioned the move to let Hedo walk and bring in Vince, especially when Carter struggled early on after Orlando made the finals with Turkoglu. But now it's all coming together. On their best night, the 2009-10 Magic are definitely better than the 2008-09 Magic on their best night. No question about it. Hedo could do a lot of things offensively. Vince can do even more, creating shots for himself and others, driving and finishing, hitting threes, facilitating, making this team completely impossible to guard, especially with Jameer healthy, Rashard doing his thing and Dwight down low. Plus Vince adds the athleticism, even after all these years, that allows him to make more plays on both ends, as his block last night demonstrates, than Hedo could. When he's on and the other three are too, how do you stop these guys? The answer is that you can't, especially when Dwight is hitting free throws.
On their best night, Vince, Jameer, Dwight and Rashard are impossible to guard, damn near unbeatable, especially with a slew of strong role players backing them up — Matt Barnes and Pietrus providing strong defense and scoring threats, J-Will providing a reliable backup at point, Gortat banging down low, Redick and Anderson deep threats, even Brandon Bass available for energy if needed. The question now remains if they can do it for four games out of seven against the elite, the Cavs, Celtics, Lakers, Suns, all teams who have formidable rosters themselves, teeming with talent. This much is certain, if the four-headed monster in Orlando can put up 80-plus points between them a night, they stand as good a chance as anyone to claim the title. And if I had to pick one foursome capable of having all four players put up 20 points on any given night out of the remaining teams, this is the one I'd pick — over Kobe, Lamar, Pau and Artest; over LeBron, Antawn, Mo and Shaq/Delonte; over Pierce, Garnett, Allen and Rondo; Nash, Amare, J-Rich and Barbosa/Dudley/Frye/Hill; over Parker, Ginobili, Duncan and Jefferson; certainly over Deron, Boozer, and whoever else you want to throw in for Utah (Matthews, Korver, Miles, Milsap?); and most definitely over Crawford, Johnson, Smith and Horford.
That doesn't mean I think Orlando is the best team or will even win it all. But if it comes down to which team simply can't be stopped at its highest level, you have to like Orlando's chances. Just take a look at what they did last night.
I'm definitely rooting for Orlando. I'd love to see Jameer get a ring, Vince get a few people off his back (though even a title probably wouldn't even remotely quiet his detractors). I love Jason Williams; Dwight Howard and Rashard Lewis are guys I'd love to have on my team. Hell, the only Magic player I hate is J.J. Redick.
They may not be the favorites, and they may not even make it to the Finals, but the Orlando Magic, between Jameer's resurgence, Howard's interior dominance (at least so far this round), Carter's brilliant moments and Rashard's bombs-away style, this squad has been as fun as any to watch this postseason. By the looks of it, we'll get to watch them at least for one more series, already up 2-0 against an Atlanta team that just seems to be lacking something. And if Carter, Lewis, Nelson and Howard can keep this pace up, we just may be treated to even more.
There are two schools of thought on Vince Carter. Basically, there is the generally accepted notion that Vince Carter is a waste of talent who could have been so much more if he just gave a damn — with flashes of brilliance sprinkled in just to remind us how good he can/could be. This seems to be the tone of the majority when discussing Vince, and it's made people resent him.
Then there's the thought that Vince is a lethal scorer and in his younger days the most electrifying dunker on the planet, a guy that no matter his faults gets you excited and makes you love watching the game of basketball. Vinsanity. Half Man-Half Amazing. It seems like I'm the only person alive who still feels this way. And even if he doesn't soar through the air with thunderous dunks any longer, Vince is still worth the price of admission for nights like last night.
48 points. 19-27 from the field. 6-10 from three. 4-4 from the line. And completely dominating down the stretch. As Marv Albert said during the telecast, Vince Carter was unconscious. Every time down the court, he was calling for the ball, he wanted the ball, and every time down, he scored the ball. You just knew each time it left his hand that it was going in. He rained down threes. He broke ankles. He hit step-backs, jump shots, and layups. He made open looks and highly contested jumpers. He scored just about every way imaginable except dunking. And I loved every single minute of it.
Vince looked like the guy who carried the Toronto Raptors to the playoffs in 2001, he looked like the guy who scored 50 points against the Sixers and came within a jumper away from getting to the Eastern Conference Finals.
Hell, he looked like Allen Iverson in that same series, that same season.
There aren't many guys who go on the type of run Vince went on last night. It was an amazing thing to watch. And he's been an amazing guy to watch his entire career. People say he didn't give a damn enough, people held his injuries against him, people proclaimed Vince let the world down by never fulfilling the prophecy as the next "next Jordan." Maybe people should have just sat back and enjoyed the brilliant moments he gave us all, of which there are many.
I've been with Vince since his days at UNC and supported him every step of the way. He has given me chills from his first game at UNC all way up until last night, provided me with some of my most memorable basketball viewing experiences. Maybe he wasn't what everyone expected him to be, what his vast array of natural ability promised him to be. But what he was, what he is is a player who on any given night can make you drop your jaw in awe and make you refuse to look away from the screen. And he can do it whether he's dunking or not.
Sixers opening day! Just kidding, obviously. Tonight the World Series finally begins as the defending champion Philadelphia Phillies take on the New York Yankees in the new Yankee stadium. And yes, the Sixers do begin tonight as well, taking on the Orlando Magic in Florida to kick off the 2009-10 season, the first under new coach Eddie Jordan.
But who cares about that? Tonight's not about the NBA. Not by a long shot. Tonight is about CC vs. Cliff Lee. Ryan Howard vs. Alex Rodriguez. Mariano Rivera vs. Brad Lidge. It's Phillies vs. Yankees, first team to four wins gets to hoist the crown. Frankly, I can't wait.
Honestly, this is such an even matchup that any real predictions would be foolhardy. Both teams blew through the first two rounds, and both teams can win any way possible. It should be a great series. I have no idea how many games this thing will go, but something tells me the Phillies have four more wins in them. Four more wins.
He's back, baby! The one and only true Jason Williams signed a one-year deal to back up Jameer Nelson for the Orlando Magic.
Speaking of Jameer, the Chester/St. Joe's product threw out the first pitch at the Phillies game last night — where Ryan Howard hit a BOMB in the 12-3 win of Mark Schlereth's kid — and showcased his power taking some BP before the game:
If he can play infield, the Phils might as well sign him to take Bruntlett's spot. Jameer is the man.
But back to the story at hand. On one note, I'm sad J-Will is with Orlando, but only because I was holding out a sliver of hope that the Sixers would sign him. When you look at it, however, it's an ideal situation for him. In fact, it's practically identical to his time with Heat.
Williams will be a backup whose responsibility it is to come off the bench and provide solid minutes running the show, something he did very well in Miami. Since the Sixers, barring some unforeseen miracle, are destined to finish in the middle of the pack and go out in the first or second round of the playoffs, I'm probably going to be pulling the Magic as my second favorite team in 2009-10. I mean, just check out the roster:
Vince, Dwight, Rashard, Jameer, and J-Will … what's not to like? Oh, that J.J. Redick character. I don't like him. But other than that, this roster is full of talent and guys I like. Added to personal favorites Nelson, Carter and Williams, along with Lewis and Howard, the Magic have assembled quite a talented roster with Matt Barnes, Ryan Anderson, Brandon Bass, Marcin Gortat and Mickael Pietrus.
It's certainly going to be a heated three-team race atop the Eastern Conference with Orlando, Cleveland and Boston. I'll be pulling for the Magic out of those three because they now have easily my favorite 1-2 point guard punch in Jameer and J-Will.
With all the talk and hype about the summer of 2010 taking over the NBA stratosphere the past few seasons, it's understandable that the summer of 2009 was simply considered an afterthought before it actually came to be. But as we're all aware of now, this has been one the most busy, batshit-insane offseasons in recent memory.
The craziest part for me is the fact that two teams I despise, both of which call cities I cannot stand home, each added one of my favorite players to the fold. Yes, I'm talking about the Lakers and the Celtics, Los Angeles and Boston. And now I find myself completely and utterly disgusted that I may actually like the makeup of these two teams.
Of course, I already sorta came to grips with Boston when they added Kevin Garnett and Ray Allen, two of my favorite players ever. I wanted desperately for both those men, especially KG, to get a ring, so it didn't sting quite as much to have Boston win in 2008, especially since the Sixers were far from contention. But now, I almost want to like the Celtics with the addition of Rasheed Wallace. Almost, but of course I cannot.
I, just like everyone else, can get frustrated with Sheed from time to time. I always imagined him becoming one of the greatest ever. Perhaps that's selfish of me. But, as Joey over at FreeDarko pointed out, there's a lot to love and appreciate in Rasheed Wallace. When his head is right, he's a selfless player with superstar skill, one of the best post defenders in all the land, and a simply unstoppable force on the blocks when he chooses to be. And he has no problem playing second (or third, or fourth) fiddle to his teammates, making the union with Garnett, Allen, Paul Pierce and Rajon Rondo a seemingly ideal fit.
Plus, the guy is a Philadelphian through and through. A Simon Gratz grad. A UNC Tar Heel. It's hard for me not to love the guy, flaws and all. And now he's a Celtic. If ever there was a guy who didn't fit a city, it's Rasheed Wallace in Boston. Take that for what you will.
But as far as a fit on the team, Rasheed offers so much more than that fatso named Big Baby it's not even funny. Sure, Sheed may be old, and last year he definitely sucked and stopped trying, but with KG around, something tells me Rasheed will bring his A game every damn night. And frankly, that's a scary thought — mixing crazy intense, with crazy accurate shooting, with crazy clutch star with just plain crazy. This Boston team is going to be fun to watch.
And the Celtics aren't the only ones. As much as I detest all LA stands for, I cannot deny the pure beauty in one Kobe Bryant's play. He's Philadelphia's shunned son, brought on by his own doings, but the fact remains, he plays the game as no one else does. Now his evil forces are joined with the NBA's poster child of evil.
I love Ron Artest. Always have. Always will. The guy is certifiably insane, but he's also one of the toughest players I've ever seen take the court. And man, can he D it up with the best of them.
But now he'll be donning the purple and gold. Alongside Kobe Bryant, the man he had a bit of a tiff with in the playoffs.
Seems absurd, right? Well, not if you recall that time Ron-Ron interviewed the Mamba himself.
This union is so crazy that it just might work. In fact, I don't really see how it can't. The Lakers, assuming they can bring Lamar Odom back, just replaced Trevor Ariza with Ron Artest. For those of you with delusions that Ariza is as good as Artest right now, just stop reading. You are stupid. Ron Artest is better than Ariza, making the Lakers better than the team that just won the championship. That's a little scary, no?
While I'm excited to see how Artest handles the limelight of LA and the demanding nature of Kobe, and greatly anticipate the lineup of Rondo, Allen, Pierce, Garnett and Wallace, I'm torn. I don't want to like anything about the Celtics or Lakers. Not a single thing. It's in my hate-filled Philadelphia blood. Boston is a nemesis, a frequent foe. I wish nothing good upon that city. And LA, well, it's the antithesis of Philadelphia — fake, laid-back, glitzy. I can't relate, and I don't want to. Los Angeles is for those who want to be seen, not those that actually care.
Now, there are bits and pieces that I find myself drawn to on each team. To be honest, I hate it. I hope both teams fail, but I'm going to enjoy watching Artest playing with Kobe and the head-exploding frontcourt of Sheed and Garnett.
Maybe the Spurs, with the addition of Richard Jefferson, the Cavs with LeBron and Shaq, or Orlando, with another one of my favorites, Vince Carter, can come out on top. That would be ideal because God knows the last thing either LA or Boston needs is another championship. And I'll feel much better about myself if neither team wins it all, so I don't feel so bad about liking the ideas behind the teams I despise.
Sorry for the delay, but every now and then I actually am a busy man. Doesn't happen often, but yesterday was one of those rare occasions.
This past weekend, silver fox and I went up to New York to attend Blogs With Balls on Saturday, and I have to say, it was one hell of an experience.
Seeing as my sister lives in Brooklyn, silver fox and I decided to drive on up to her house and then take the train into the city on Friday night. One problem: My sister was at my parents' house all weekend and my brother-in-law was at the Yankees-Mets game, so when we arrived, we had to try and find the subway from their house all by ourselves. This did not go well. I have only been to my sister's house once before, and that was a few weeks ago when I went up to see Brad Lidge ruin my day in the New Yankee Stadium. That night, we were extremely drunk, so naturally, we couldn't remember a damn thing about how to get to the subway.
After walking around Brooklyn for longer than we thought we should, I finally reached out to lady friend for directions. She was absolutely no help at all, reaffirming the fact that women have no sense of direction, even if they've lived in Brooklyn their entire life. Finally, mercifully, my brother-in-law called me from the game (I didn't want to call and disrupt him during the game) and directed us to the subway from where we were. Evidently, we were way off course. It would help if every fucking apartment complex in Brooklyn didn't look exactly like this:
I'm not kidding, every single building looks just like this. Same color bricks. Same color fire escapes. It's like walking in circles. Fuck that place. Build something different for once.
Sorry, got off on a tangent there. We did finally make it into Manhattan to get some drinks and meet up with my brother-in-law once the game was through. We walked in to one local establishment with about a minute or so left to play in game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals, and that last minute was some damn exciting hockey.
Holy hell! What an awesome end, even if stupid Pittsburgh did win. Amazing save by Fleury. It was a thrilling end to a thrilling playoffs. But still, there is a part of me that is extremely annoyed that Pittsburgh won both the Super Bowl and the Stanley Cup in 2009. It would really be unbearable if the Phillies weren't World Fucking Champions. Thank God for that.
It sucked that PIttsburgh won again, but all hope was not lost. My brother-in-law called me to to let me know the Mets blew it because Luis Castillo dropped a pop-up. Then I saw the replay on television. I'm really beginning to enjoy how the Mets keep finding ways to snatch defeat from victory.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!! That's just too much.
First, how the hell does a Major League player drop that ball? Seemed like one of the easier plays that occurs in baseball. But really, seriously, why the hell would Castillo throw the ball to second? Is he retarded? Oh, wait, I figured it out. Because he's a low-life, scumbag Met. Seriously, I'm almost beginning to feel bad for Mets fans. Almost. OK, maybe not. Fuck them. The Mets, as my friend RomanWarHelmet so eloquently said, molest small children.
After watching that hilarity, silver fox and I met my brother-in-law and his cousin at Stout, which is where Blogs With Balls was actually being held the following morning. Stupid me didn't even realize this. And stupid me also failed to show any self-restraint, despite the fact I was going to have to wake up at 8 a.m. on Saturday, and got completely hammered. Jack and gingers, beers, car bombs. Not the greatest of life choices, but shit, how often am I in New York?
Not often, which is a good thing, because my bar tab Friday night was not cheap.
Somehow, we made it back to Brooklyn and crashed immediately. When my phone alarm went off a few hours later, I wanted to die. Luckily, miraculously, I wasn't really hung over, just tired.
Silver fox and I ventured back to the bar from whence we came and set up shop. I know the event was held in part to network and meet some fellow sports bloggers, but early on, I was too tired to move. Thankfully, I'd gain steam as the day wore on.
As a whole, the event was awesome as shit. The guys over at Hugging Harold Reynolds did a phenomenal job setting this up. But I have to tell you, during the first session, I was beginning to have my doubts. Not because the people who were up there were awful or unintelligible or anything like that. Quite the contrary. In fact, Jim DeLorenzo, Richard Ting, Chris Russo and Kathleen Hessert did a fantastic job.
There was just one problem. Every other word out of their mouths was Twitter. Or tweet. After about 15 minutes, the entire thing sounded like this to me: "Words, words, words, Twitter. Words. Twitter. Words. Tweet. Twitter. Tweet. Words. Shaquille O'Neal. Twitter. Twitter. Twitter." AHHHHHH IF I HEAR TWITTER ONE MORE GOD DAMN TIME I'M GONNA BLUDGEON MYSELF WITH A PICK AX!
What I learned through that session is that Twitter seems to be a big tool for bloggers and shit. Which means I won't be growing my audience all that much, seeing as Twitter really helps with that. Because I fucking hate Twitter. I think it's a horrible, terrible invention and just another step in the dumbing down and lazification (yeah, I made that word up) of America. Fuck Twitter.
I'm not going to go through an entire blow by blow of the event, because that shit was long as hell. But all the panels were fantastic, even Twitterfest. I think everyone did a very good job, but there were definitely people who stood out in my opinion. Dan Levy, Matt Sebek, Matt Ufford, Greg Wyshynski, Spencer Hall, Jeff Pearlman, Dan Steinberg and Shoals were my favorite bloggers, and Gary Vaynerchuk, who has nothing to do with sports, per se, was a hilarious, tremendous speaker to close out the day.
To me, the final session, "Why We Hate You: The Media's Take," was the best panel of the day. Steinberg, Pearlman and Shoals were getting visually frustrated, but the debate among the entire panel, as well as the audience, was very healthy and thought-provoking. "Make the Leap, Make it Your Job" was by far the funniest panel, as Spencer Hall stole the show and Wyshynski followed suit. Hall, wearing the most awesome of white suits this side of Rick Pitino, had the quote of the day, telling aspiring full-time bloggers to get a job they really, really hate, like clubbing baby seals in front of small children, and then become a blogger. It was priceless.
Wyshynski added how he was disappointed there weren't more drinking games going on, such as drinking every time someone said, "Twitter." If that game would have taken place, everyone would have been shitfaced about 30 minutes in. Seriously, enough with the Twitter already people.
I thoroughly enjoyed the event. I really did. The speakers were very engaging, very helpful and the audience participation really kept everyone engaged. The one thing I think that could make this even better, however, is to have a little more of a representative group. For the most part, all the panelists were the most well-known, most successful sports bloggers who pretty much did the gig full-time or close to it. And a lot of the sessions were geared toward making money off blogging or making a career out of it.
That's all well and good, and rest assured, if someone was willing to pay me to do what I do here, I'd jump at it. But not all that really interested me that much. I didn't start this site to make money or make it my job. Again, I would love to have this be my job, but it's not my goal. I write and blog because I really enjoy it. I love to vent. And I do it more for me than for any audience.
Matt Sebek, for example, was discussing finding out what your readers like and don't like. That's great advice and sound advice if you want to grow your site to get as many eyeballs as possible. But that's not my goal here. I write what I want for myself, to vent, to get my viewpoint out there. That's not to say I wouldn't like an audience and wouldn't like to have people enjoy what I do here. But that's not why I do it. I do it for me, as selfish as that sounds. It's kind of therapy, if you will. I think that voice should be represented as well next time around. But still, awesome event, and I definitely plan on attending more.
After the conference itself was over, there was an after party held at Foley's, a bar with more sports memorabilia than I've ever seen in my life.
Throughout the course of the day/night, I met and talked with a lot of people. During the conference, I spoke with Ufford about the cease and desist letter I received from Robbie Gould's agent/lawyer. He was very smart, very engaging and eager to listen. And in essence, his conclusion was, as long as I didn't write anything that was flat-out wrong, fuck 'em. Amen, brother.
I also had a great conversation with Wyshynski, thanking him for inviting me to join the Flyers-Sarah Palin Roundtable and discussing the playoffs with, yes, The Pensblog. We had a great conversation about how I never really hated Pittsburgh until I went to Penn State. Seems to be a common thread.
I also had a chance to speak with Dan Levy in person to briefly discuss our little dust-up, which we settled over e-mail. Levy was an excellent speaker Saturday, and even in a drunken state, he was gracious. He did say, "Oh, yeah, this guy called me all sorts of names and bashed me," but he was somewhat joking and very good-natured about it. I actually didn't really call him names, as you can see, but I did say I wasn't a fan of his writing. Well, I'm a fan of Dan Levy, that's for sure, and he was a great guy.
My networking didn't end there. I had the chance to meet the brains behind Both Teams Played Hard, and we had a great time chatting it up. He's such an avid basketball fan, I could have talked to him all night. He was also really pumped that I knew so much about Sheed and the title of his site. Helps that I'm a Philly guy and a UNC fan.
There were many people I met throughout the night, including guys from Philly.com and Writing the Pine, and everyone I met seemed like a pretty decent person. But finally, the free booze stopped flowing, so silver fox and I went out to see what else the night had to offer.
Turns out, a friend of ours was chilling in Long Island, where we just so happened to know a girl we were trying to meet up with. But our female friend who was visiting was wasted and gave us awful directions. For the second time in as many days, we asked a woman for directions and were left wandering. Stupid us. We did, however, make it out to Long Island, met up with the girl we know who lives there, and who hates pretty much everyone, and had a few drinks. She told off this guy who made her get out of his seat, which was great. That girl is all right.
Somehow, we made it back to Brooklyn and to the front door of my sister's house. Unfortunately, both my phone and silver fox's phone were dead. And we were locked out. That sucked. Well, it could have sucked. By chance, my brother-in-law was up taking a piss, heard us outside fidgeting around and let us in.
We immediately passed out.
Upon waking up around 12:30 on Sunday, we watched the first five innings of the Yankees-Mets game on the Yankees station. First off, I'd like to say how incredibly enjoyable it was to watch the Yanks tee off on Johan Santana. Nothing could be better than watching the Mets lose a game they should have won and then get destroyed in the same weekend. The losses were so damaging that Roman is really beginning to lose faith.
Secondly, Francisco Rodriguez is an awesome, awesome closer … and a raving douche.
I got to see the video footage of him confronting Brian Bruney on Sunday. It was hilarious.
Also, the Yankees broadcast had Al Leiter and David Cone as the player-analysts. Two pitchers. It was incredibly overbearing because all the two talked about was pitching the entire time. I'm glad the Phillies don't do this. It was annoying.
We finally left for Philadelphia mid-afternoon and returned in plenty of time for game 5 of the NBA Finals.
There's not a whole lot I can add to the conversations about these Finals that others haven't already said. Dwight Howard needs to learn some post moves and definitely needs to shoot a minimum of 5 million free throws every day. Seriously.
Pau Gasol truly came up huge on the big stage, firmly entrenching himself as one of the top big men in the game. He is anonymous no more.
And for all of those people who say Kobe is this and Kobe is that, what he is now is a 4-time champion. As Shoals said, there really isn't any argument any longer against Kobe the player. Sure, he had Pau, but this was Kobe's team and it was Kobe who was the best player. Not Shaq's team with Kobe as sidekick. Not Kobe with a bunch of scrubs. Kobe's championship team.
He brought home the hardware because he earned it. He really did.
It's hard to root for Kobe Bryant. He's arrogant, standoffish, stubborn. But he goes out there and competes harder than anyone. He's the guy we love to hate, but he's also a joy to watch. I hate the Lakers. I hate Kobe Bryant. But I love to watch him play the game. I really do.
For real though, four is enough. And the Van Gundy's are the shit.
Oh, and word to the wise: Never ask women for directions. It gets you nowhere.
The game was in his massive hands. With 11.1 seconds left and the Magic holding a three-point lead, Dwight Howard stepped to the free throw line to ice the game. These are the moments that Shaquille O'Neal, the former center for both the Lakers and Magic, a notoriously atrocious foul shooter, referred to when he said, "I make them when it matters."
If only Dwight Howard could have made one when it mattered. Instead, he clanked both attempts. The Lakers grabbed the rebound, called timeout and set up their offense. Then Derek Fisher, who had struggled shooting the ball all night, hell, all postseason, hit a three, tying the game. Just another huge playoff notch to add to his belt.
Jameer Nelson, known as a gritty, tough, talented and, most importantly, smart basketball player, made a boneheaded play. Jeff Van Gundy and Mark Jackson properly criticized Chester's favorite son. Jameer should know better. He usually does. In no way should he have let Fisher get off such an easy look from three. Yes, he contested, but he shouldn't have even let him get it off. It's a shame, because Nelson was having a strong fourth quarter, facilitating the Orlando attack, but in the end, his defense cost his team.
After Hedo Turkoglu hit dagger after dagger and Mickael Pietrus made Kobe work as hard as he ever has, the game was there for the Magic. This series was about to be tied. But poor free throw shooting and a mental lapse on defense were all the Lakers needed.
In overtime, Kobe took over, making the first two baskets and then finding Fisher again, wide open for three, to put an end to Orlando's hopes. Sure, the elbow to Jameer's chops helped free up space, but Kobe still made the right play, even if he got away with a foul.
That was all she wrote. Hedo missed a three, and Rashard Lewis, who completely failed to show up for the game, tapped the rebound out way too far, giving Pau Gasol a fastbreak dunk. Game over. And more than likely, series over.
The Lakers now hold a 3-1 lead. It just as easily could be 3-1 Orlando. But in games 2 and 4, the Magic made just enough errors to keep the Lakers in it. And that's all LA needs, one little crack.
In game 4, it was the foul shooting that really did Orlando in. Dwight Howard, who dominated in the first quarter, had a dreadful second half offensively and an even more dreadful performance at the line, where he went 6 of 14. 6-14. That's less than 43 percent. In the NBA Finals.
For the game, Orlando missed 15 free throws, shooting a combined 22-37 (59.5 percent). Even Turkoglu, a career 80 percent free throw shooter, missed five freebies (8-13). Make just one, one of those down the stretch, especially you, Dwight, and this series is all tied up. Instead, it's as good as over.
Dwight, you may never been a great free throw shooter, but you gotta "make them when it matters."
When I was watching game 3 of the NBA Finals last night, it dawned on me how much it must suck to be the Orlando Magic or a fan of the Magic.
Why, you ask? Well, it's simple really. It has to suck that when the words Magic and NBA are used, the Orlando Magic are not the first thing that comes to mind; this is:
That has to get annoying, having the entire organization overshadowed by one player who played the bulk of his career before the organization even existed. And to rub salt in the wound, that player, who is synonymous with basketball itself, built his reputation and played his entire career with the Los Angeles Lakers, the team the Magic are facing in the Finals down 2 games to 1.
Honestly, it has to suck that Magic Johnson will forever be the first thing that pops into everyone's mind when the words Magic and NBA or Magic and basketball are put together. Orlando is forever the second fiddle to the man responsible for "The Magic Hour."
I have to say, it was pretty damn lucky that the Phils-Dodgers game started at the same time as the Lakers-Magic, because it allowed me to focus on the Phils early and avoid watching a 15-15 first quarter in an NBA Finals game.
That's 30 points for all you math majors out there. Not 30 apiece, as in 30-30. No, 15-15. In an entire quarter. In the Finals. Gross.
Truthfully, I watched more of the Phils game because this thing was looking so ugly, but I did tune in for the fourth quarter in its entirety. And I'm glad I did, especially for those final three minutes of regulation. With the Lakers up 84-81 with less than three to play, J.J. Redick hits a three to tie it. Then Rashard Lewis splits the defense in post to give Orlando a lead. Kobe answers. Turkoglu answers back. Then Pau ties it up again.
Finally, Hedo makes an incredible block on Kobe's game-winning attempt, leaving .6 seconds to set up the perfect inbound play that Courtney Lee clanks.
Really, the entire ending was fantastic, except for the part where Lee missed and the Lakers won in OT to go up 2-0. Rashard and Hedo were beasts for Orlando. Ditto Pau Gasol, Lamar Odom and Kobe for the Lakers. Dwight Howard was good, but the Orlando point guards were a complete mess. Maybe this whole Jameer thing wasn't such a good idea after all.
Still, Orlando had a shot to win it, but Lee couldn't get the job done on honestly one of the most beautifully designed inbound plays I've ever seen.
What was it that Meatloaf said? Two out of three ain't bad? Pardon my french, but fuck that. Last night, two out of three results in the games I had interest in were bad — the Lakers abolishing the Magic 100-75 and the Penguins evening up the Stanley Cup Finals 2-2 with a 4-2 victory — thankfully, Colbert Richard Hamels salvaged the night.
Hollywood Hamels, as the kids call him, pitched by far his best game of 2009 and put forth one his better efforts ever. A complete-game, 5-hit, 5-strikeout gem with no walks to give the Phils a 3-0 win — their seventh straight victory.
Man oh man was it nice to see a return to form, especially coming off an outing against Washington where Cole got smacked around by leaving the ball up all game. Last night was truly an excellent performance, as Cole effortlessly made the Dodgers — you know, the team with the best record in baseball — look pedestrian at best. It only took Colbert 97 pitches to complete his gem, and I applaud Charlie for letting Cole hit in the top of the 9th and come out to finish what he started.
In years past, especially with just a 3-run lead and the very careful handling of Cole throughout his career, Manuel would have pulled Hamels and pinch-hit for him in the 9th, to both rest his valuable left arm and to try and get some insurance runs. But last night, Charlie saw how easily Cole was breezing through the Dodgers hitters and let him go out there. No doubt, his low pitch count helped make that decision, but I'm glad to see Charlie allow him to do it regardless. That was a truly special performance, and in case you haven't noticed, your first place Philadelphia Phillies, the defending World Fucking Champions, are 32-20, the second best record in the bigs, with a 4-game lead over the Mets … who just got swept by the fucking Pirates.
If you are a fan of the Mets, first off, kill yourself, and secondly, seriously, don't ever try to talk shit again until you actually, you know, win something. Not only will Cole continue to call you chokers, he will go out and pitch complete game shutouts just to rub it in.
As great as Cole's performance was, the Orlando Magic were equally as bad. In game 1 of the NBA Finals, fresh off ousting the anointed one, LeBron James, the Magic didn't just revert back to a team that the Sixers almost beat, but a team that the Sixers actually could beat.
Orlando shot 29.9 (29.9!) percent from the field. Dwight Howard, Mr. "You have a dominant player. Let him be dominant," scored a paltry 12 points on 1-of-6 shooting. Yes, he was in foul trouble early. Yes, the Lakers have Andrew Bynum and Pau Gasol, who match up with Howard much better than anyone the Cavs have. But 1-for-6? Really?
That's Sammy Dalembert territory there. Yikes.
And as much as I hate to say this, Jameer Nelson did not help the Magic whatsoever last night. Now, to be fair, Nelson didn't really looked injured. He was quick, flying all over the place and honestly looked healed. But the guy hadn't played in months, and it showed, especially on his shot. Jameer made just 3 of his 9 attempts in 23-plus minutes.
If I was Rafer Alston, I'd be pretty upset right now. The Magic played a pretty strong first quarter with Alston on the floor, leading 24-22 after one, and the lead was extended to about 5 before the Lakers made their push and built a double-digit advantage in the second quarter. And L.A. did it with Nelson on the floor and Rafer on the bench.
Now, it would be inaccurate to say Jameer was the reason Orlando lost. He wasn't. Not even close. Hell, the Lakers pulled away in the second half with Rafer on the floor throughout the 3rd quarter. But Jameer certainly wasn't helping Orlando last night, evident by his -19 compared to Alston's -6.
Either way, this game wasn't really about what Orlando failed to do as much as it was about what Los Angeles was able to do. In a word, that would be dominate. And there was no one more dominant than Kobe, who looked every bit like the best player on the court, which he unquestionably is.
Frankly, it didn't matter what Dwight Howard did last night. Or any other player on the Magic for that matter. Kobe wasn't going to be denied. He wants this ring more than any other player in the league right now wants a ring. He doesn't want to be remembered as winning only as Shaq's sidekick. He doesn't want to lose as many NBA Finals series as he's won.
No, Kobe wants this ring and he's going to do everything he can to get it. And last night, he sure as shit did everything he possibly could have to not only get a 1-0 lead, but to bury Orlando in the process. Kobe dropped this ridiculous stat line: 40 points, 16-34 from the field, 8-8 from the line, 8 rebounds, 8 assists, 2 steals, 2 blocks and just one foul and one turnover in 38 minutes.
He orchestrated the entire game. Every minute. Every possession. He was masterful. Not since Michael Jordan was tormenting Utah has a player single-handedly controlled the entire pace of the game in the Finals the way Kobe did last night. If he plays like that, or even remotely close to it, the rest of the way, Orlando doesn't stand a chance, even if the Magic make their threes.
Last year, the Finals belonged to Garnett, Allen and Pierce. This year, it's Kobe's Finals, and he made that abundantly clear last night.
What also became clear is that Pittsburgh isn't about to roll over and die. Not by a long shot. Marc-Andre Fleury was spectacular, especially in the first period, and Sidney Crosby and Evgeni Malkin were far and away the best players on the ice. (OK, Jordan Staal was a beast, too).
The Red Wings looked strong early, firing 19 shots at Fleury in the first period, but the score was tied 1-1 after one. Then PIttsburgh took over after falling behind 2-1 less than a minute into the second. Bang, bang, bang. Three unanswered goals — a shorty by Jordan Staal followed by a tally by Crosby (assisted by Malkin, who scored the first goal of the game) followed by a beautiful tic-tac-toe from Kunitz to Crosby to Tyler Kennedy.
The Penguins are no joke, even if Pittsburgh is the worst city in America … which it is. Honestly, if Crosby and Malkin (and Staal and Fleury) can play like this, the way they have played the majority of the postseason, I don't think even the mighty Red Wings can contain them. All the momentum is now with the Pens, and with no Pavel Datsyuk or even with an injured Datsyuk playing, Detroit may not have enough to keep up.
Then again, the Red Wings didn't seem to have much trouble keeping the dynamic duo at bay in Detroit, so perhaps this is going to be one of those home team wins every game type of series. Guess we'll just have to wait and see.
So yeah, not a great night all things considered, but hey, Cole Hamels! Complete game shutout! That was tits.
Tonight, the NBA Finals finally begin. Seems like the conference finals were weeks ago. With the emergence of Dwight Howard, Kobe going after his 4th ring and first without some big fella named Shaq, Jameer Nelson's will-he-or-won't-he return story, the enigma that is Lamar Odom, the match-up between Rashard Lewis and Pau Gasol, and the absence of LeBron James (not to mention handshakegate) getting so much attention, there's a story that's quietly flying under the radar. A story of revenge. A story of redemption. The story of Hedo Turkoglu.
We all remember the famed 2002 Western Conference finals that pitted the Los Angeles Lakers and Sacramento Kings against one another yet again in the playoffs. It was Mike Bibby's coming out party, as the then-young point guard carried the Kings to a game 7 against the two-time defending champion Lakers, where in that deciding game, literally no one on Sacramento showed up save for Bibby. Had he gotten just a little bit of help from Chris Webber or Peja Stojakovic down the stretch, perhaps the Kings could have been remembered as champions, not chokers.
Of course, the lasting image of that series is Robert Horry's game-winning three in game 4 after Vlade Divac tapped a rebound right to him.
Take a long, hard look at that photo and tell me what you see. Yes, under the basket is a young Hedo Turkoglu — then in his second season in the NBA at age 23 — looking on helplessly while guarding Rick Fox, as Chris Webber couldn't quite get to Horry. That shot shattered all of Sacramento's dreams, and Turkoglu was among the bunch left stunned:
"It's the luckiest thing I've ever seen in my life. Vlade hit the ball and it went straight into his hands and he was wide-open. The whole game, he was going for offensive boards, but at that moment he was waiting right there. You could never see this type of game in your life." -- Hedo Turkoglu, on Robert Horry's Game 4 game-winner
Until this season, that's the closest Turkoglu, now 30, had ever gotten to the Finals. While certainly not the team's best player with the likes of Chris Webber, Peja Stojakovic, Mike Bibby, Doug Christie, Bobby Jackson, Vlade Divac and company on the squad, Turkoglu was an integral part of the rotation, evident by his presence on the floor in the waning moments of game 4.
During the regular season, Hedo averaged 24.6 minutes, 10.1 points, 4.5 rebounds, 2 assists, nearly a steal and a half a block a game, while shooting 42.2 percent from the field, 36.8 from three and 72.6 from the line. Turkoglu struggled in the playoffs, but nonetheless, he was a regular in Rick Adelman's rotation.
And in those Western Conference Finals, Turkoglu averaged 34 minutes a game and 10.7 points, playing some truly horrendous games and some really good games. Take for instance game 1, where Hedo went 0-for-8 from the field, putting up a goose egg in points, followed by a 4-for-8 for just 8 points in game 2. Then he had two excellent games in games 3 and 4, scoring 14 (6-13 from the field) and 18 points (8-15).
In essence, it was a learning experience for Turkoglu, one that ended in a painful lesson. While the media has seemingly forgotten about it, I'm sure Hedo hasn't.
Back in 2002, he had to watch as Kobe and Derek Fisher celebrated with Shaq and Horry and all the rest of the Lakers after a tough 7-game battle. Don't think that won't be extra motivation for the quiet Turkish assassin who has been a driving force in Orlando's run to the Finals. All he'll have to do is peer across the court at Kobe or Derek Fisher to remember the agony of defeat at the hands of the Lakers. Watch out for Hedo. He has more reason than anyone to want to bury the Lakers.
As if it wasn't already established, now all questions have been dismissed: LeBron James is not human. Can't be. Humans cannot do what this freak of nature of does.
Last night, with his Cavaliers facing elimination, LeBron goes all triple-doubley on the Magic, putting up 37 points, 14 rebounds and 12 assists to lead Cleveland to a 112-102 win and force a game 6. Look at that again: 37-14-12. Add in a steal and block for good measure and 15-19 from the foul line, and it just boggles the mind.
Yes, Mo Williams finally showed up (24 points on 7-14 from the field, 6-9 from three), and the Cavs got double digits out of Delonte (13), Ilgauskas (16) and Gibson (11), but once again, it was really LeBron and everyone else.
With the Magic just a win away from reaching the finals, I sort of left the Cavs for dead, thinking, with the way the series has gone and how much success the Magic had against the LeBrons in the regular season, Cleveland couldn't win three straight. I should have known better. With LeBron, anything is possible, as he showed last night and has shown all season.
Now, I still don't necessarily think the Cavs will pull this thing out, but I'm definitely not counting them out. Not with the way the greatest basketball player in the world is playing right now. Seriously, I just don't think he's human.
