It will be a never-ending source of mystery to me.
Why did Carlisle pull Butler and Beaubois? Aside from Dirk in the second half, those were the two most effective weapons at Carlisle's disposal. More importantly, he left them out in favor of giving Shawn Marion, Jason Terry, and Jason Kidd more minutes, despite the fact that they had proven ineffective.
The Spurs had no answer to Caron. I was surprised to see him sitting on the bench at all. A night after dropping 35, Caron doesn't crack 40 minutes after scoring 25 points on 9-18 shooting (perfect 6-6 from the line). Were you saving him for the next round? Marion, Terry, and Kidd combined for a whopping 11 points in 89 combined minutes of play. That's ridiculous. More than that, Rodrigue Beaubois and Erick Dampier played the exact same number of minutes, yet Beaubois produced just as many rebounds and assists (5 and 1, respectively) while outscoring him by 16.
I mean, I get that Carlisle won 55 games with his rotations and he hasn't missed the playoffs as head coach yet, but there is something fundamentally wrong with the way he distributed minutes down the stretch. Coaching is not an exact science, but at the same time, keeping the same players on the floor and hoping for them all to simultaneously pop out of a shooting funk isn't patient; it's just stupid.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Thursday, April 22, 2010
When they fall in, they fall in from the roof
The playoffs are not a difficult thing to discern. First team to win 16 games wins, and if the same team beats you four times, you're out. 7 games a series for 4 series. Easy.
Home court advantage for the team with the higher seed (4 of the 7 are played in the higher seed's home court).
Let's assume that all of the teams are of a fairly high caliber (I.E., this year's Western Conference does not contain a playoff team with less than 50 wins).
From the high seed's perspective, the playoffs are like this:
2 at home, 2 away, then 1-1-1 for the last three. (Except in the Finals, where it's 2-3-2, if I'm not mistaken). Assuming each team is good enough to win at home on a consistent basis, every series should go to the higher seed, with every series going about 7 games.
Naturally, this does not happen. The playoffs don't necessarily weed out the best team, because such measures are subjective and nigh impossible to prove with any level of definitiveness. What the playoffs really measure is the ability to win on the road.
Series in which the lower seed advances or the higher seed advances in less than 7 (which is to say, most series) feature at least one road win. They're not easy, but they happen. When a lower seed does this, it's said to nullify the 'home-court advantage.' From there, if they lose every other game on the road and win at home, they win the series. Simple as that. If the high seed does this, they only have to win 3 out of 4 of their home games, taking enormous pressure off of them. The more you win on the road, the less you have to play, the more likely you are to win the series, and it generally fills the winning team with confidence, which is absolutely key to any playoff victory.
So, if playoff dominance is dependent on being able to win away from home, why not host the games at a neutral site? The higher seeds already have an advantage by virtue of being 'better' or at least having more wins. Why crush the underdog further?
To compensate for this, the NBA could incorporate the D-League's playoff method of allowing the highest seeds pick their opponents. I think that the two put together would foster even more intense competition than what is currently on display in the NBA.
Or, it could horrifically cripple lower seeds by forcing teams to deal with matchup problems in a completely foreign basketball arena. That is also possible.
Home court advantage for the team with the higher seed (4 of the 7 are played in the higher seed's home court).
Let's assume that all of the teams are of a fairly high caliber (I.E., this year's Western Conference does not contain a playoff team with less than 50 wins).
From the high seed's perspective, the playoffs are like this:
2 at home, 2 away, then 1-1-1 for the last three. (Except in the Finals, where it's 2-3-2, if I'm not mistaken). Assuming each team is good enough to win at home on a consistent basis, every series should go to the higher seed, with every series going about 7 games.
Naturally, this does not happen. The playoffs don't necessarily weed out the best team, because such measures are subjective and nigh impossible to prove with any level of definitiveness. What the playoffs really measure is the ability to win on the road.
Series in which the lower seed advances or the higher seed advances in less than 7 (which is to say, most series) feature at least one road win. They're not easy, but they happen. When a lower seed does this, it's said to nullify the 'home-court advantage.' From there, if they lose every other game on the road and win at home, they win the series. Simple as that. If the high seed does this, they only have to win 3 out of 4 of their home games, taking enormous pressure off of them. The more you win on the road, the less you have to play, the more likely you are to win the series, and it generally fills the winning team with confidence, which is absolutely key to any playoff victory.
So, if playoff dominance is dependent on being able to win away from home, why not host the games at a neutral site? The higher seeds already have an advantage by virtue of being 'better' or at least having more wins. Why crush the underdog further?
To compensate for this, the NBA could incorporate the D-League's playoff method of allowing the highest seeds pick their opponents. I think that the two put together would foster even more intense competition than what is currently on display in the NBA.
Or, it could horrifically cripple lower seeds by forcing teams to deal with matchup problems in a completely foreign basketball arena. That is also possible.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Different People at the Very Same Job
Russell Westbrook will not go down very easily to the Lakers. Kevin Durant has to deal with Ron Artest.
It seems pretty simple, and it is.
Let Westbrook go to work. Thabo will give Kobe headaches on defense, Westbrook will force him to help out Fish or Farmar, at which point he can kick it out to whoever is open.
Green is good, but not on the same level as Westbrook or Durant. Thabo is a great defender, but he's not a must-defend threat. This is a good thing, as it means defenses will play off of them.
If they insist on doubling up on Durant, use your other players. The Jordan Rules stopped working after a while. If you put Sefolosha, Green, and Westbrook together, that's like having one Scottie Pippen. So use them.
In somewhat unrelated news, Brandon Jennings did Brandon Jennings things for the Bucks. Dynamite in the first game, and picked up the slack because Bogut wasn't there. Significant if only because it's a knock on the door of everyone who said the Bucks were only a breakout team because of Bogut's rise to prominence. While there is some truth to this notion, one cannot forget that Brandon Jennings did lay a double nickel on the NBA, and even if this was a fluke performance, the explosiveness is there, and it also means that Jennings can carry a good portion of the load on his back. Bogut and Jennings is a good combination, and though it's doubtful that the Bucks will make it into the next round, there's a lot to look forward to. I wouldn't go to sleep on Brandon Jennings. He's not the Rookie of the Year, but he has a higher ceiling than the two front-runners. So I make myself clear:
I think that Brandon Jennings will be a better pro (both in terms of ability and team success) than either Tyreke Evans or Stephen Curry. They may post better individual stats, because of the systems that they'll be in or because of their usage percentages, but I think, ultimately, Brandon Jennings will be remembered as a better player than either of them...
...unless the Bucks ship him off somewhere OR if they don't get him some decent help.
It seems pretty simple, and it is.
Let Westbrook go to work. Thabo will give Kobe headaches on defense, Westbrook will force him to help out Fish or Farmar, at which point he can kick it out to whoever is open.
Green is good, but not on the same level as Westbrook or Durant. Thabo is a great defender, but he's not a must-defend threat. This is a good thing, as it means defenses will play off of them.
If they insist on doubling up on Durant, use your other players. The Jordan Rules stopped working after a while. If you put Sefolosha, Green, and Westbrook together, that's like having one Scottie Pippen. So use them.
In somewhat unrelated news, Brandon Jennings did Brandon Jennings things for the Bucks. Dynamite in the first game, and picked up the slack because Bogut wasn't there. Significant if only because it's a knock on the door of everyone who said the Bucks were only a breakout team because of Bogut's rise to prominence. While there is some truth to this notion, one cannot forget that Brandon Jennings did lay a double nickel on the NBA, and even if this was a fluke performance, the explosiveness is there, and it also means that Jennings can carry a good portion of the load on his back. Bogut and Jennings is a good combination, and though it's doubtful that the Bucks will make it into the next round, there's a lot to look forward to. I wouldn't go to sleep on Brandon Jennings. He's not the Rookie of the Year, but he has a higher ceiling than the two front-runners. So I make myself clear:
I think that Brandon Jennings will be a better pro (both in terms of ability and team success) than either Tyreke Evans or Stephen Curry. They may post better individual stats, because of the systems that they'll be in or because of their usage percentages, but I think, ultimately, Brandon Jennings will be remembered as a better player than either of them...
...unless the Bucks ship him off somewhere OR if they don't get him some decent help.
Friday, April 9, 2010
Pay the Man(u)
So, I was excited to hear the Spurs reupped Manu Ginobili. One, because he's the only player whose jersey I own; two, because he's a valuable and respected member of the Spurs organization who's been underpaid for his career (though overpaying him might not have been the best response); and three, because it's doubtful that the Spurs could find anyone of equivalent value at that price in free agency.
It's no secret that San Antonio (and virtually every other small market team) has difficulty attracting free agents. Virtually all of their marquee players have come through the draft, and this is what allows them to field a competitive team while (normally) staying out of the luxury tax. Their other major assets have come through trades, though unlike (for example) the Bucks or the Thunder, San Antonio usually trades for role players. This is the case for most small market teams. To illustrate, I'll show the three best players from teams that would be considered 'small market':
Three 'best' (in my opinion) players from each team:
San Antonio-
Tim Duncan (Draft)
Manu Ginobili (Draft)
Tony Parker (Draft)
Milwaukee-
Andrew Bogut (Draft)
Brandon Jennings (Draft)
John Salmons (Trade)
Thunder-
Kevin Durant (Draft)
Jeff Green (Trade)
Russell Westbrook (Draft)
Charlotte-
Stephen Jackson (Trade)
Gerald Wallace (Expansion Draft)
Tyrus Thomas/Raymond Felton (I feel it's tied) (Trade/Draft)
The Thunder haven't picked up a big name free agent since they were the Sonics, nobody wants to sign with Charlotte or Milwaukee, and aside from Richard Jefferson, the last major name that the Spurs pulled in was Michael Finley, back when that meant something.
The closest a small market team came to nailing a big time free agent was when Jason Kidd came within one Joumana of signing to the Spurs back in July of 2003. It signified that even a team coming off of a championship with all of the major players coming back could not sign a top free agent, even if it made basketball sense.
Small markets aren't enticing for those who are interested in marketing themselves beyond basketball. I sincerely doubt that Lebron ever considered the Bucks or the Thunder as serious options, despite the playing opportunities that they could offer him. It will never just be about basketball. In the eyes of a casual fan, Kevin Durant is a guy who kind of looks like Jamie Foxx who might be better than Lebron at scoring a basketball. They see him occasionally dunk on Sportscenter. He may as well be playing Division III ball. He is the great white whale of the casual fan. Few second-tier free agents would want to be stuck in that position.
In the NFL, this is a non-issue. If you win, you'll be on TV. Football is huge enough in this country that every team has some following, and every team will get press. Resting on its own mythology, the NFL perpetuates itself, and this allows players to go anywhere, to establish themselves against the existing myth of the next Barry Sanders or the next Johnny Unitas.
This is also a result of players in the NFL largely being famous enough (due to broader national exposure) to bring the cameras with them. Brett Favre, Tom Brady, Adrian Peterson, Terrell Owens (less so now), Randy Moss, and players of their ilk shine in the spotlight enough to where they can choose where they want to play and the money will follow them.
I think the old axiom of, "There are no small parts, only small actors" holds true. In this case, there are no small markets, only small stars. If Lebron James chose to play in a small market, the cameras would follow him. Cleveland wasn't exactly a huge draw before 2003. He's enough of a star on and off the court to thrust a team into the national spotlight just by playing with them.
I believe that Kevin Durant's star will continue to rise and the Thunder will start attracting national attention with their (presumably brief) playoff run and Kevin Durant's imminent scoring title. Of course, if he doesn't win the scoring title, he doesn't get noticed, simply because no one cares about the second place finisher. BUT, if the pieces fall into place, he'll put Oklahoma City on the map.
If the team has great chemistry, you can win a championship. But if the team has one guy putting up monster stats, you'll get noticed. It's all about priorities.
Manu Ginobili is a box office draw and a vital cog in the Spurs plans for the future. He could have been resigned for less than the maximum, but I'm supposing that the front office wanted to show loyalty and possibly put Manu up to signing for somewhat less than the maximum.
Not that anyone will notice.
It's no secret that San Antonio (and virtually every other small market team) has difficulty attracting free agents. Virtually all of their marquee players have come through the draft, and this is what allows them to field a competitive team while (normally) staying out of the luxury tax. Their other major assets have come through trades, though unlike (for example) the Bucks or the Thunder, San Antonio usually trades for role players. This is the case for most small market teams. To illustrate, I'll show the three best players from teams that would be considered 'small market':
Three 'best' (in my opinion) players from each team:
San Antonio-
Tim Duncan (Draft)
Manu Ginobili (Draft)
Tony Parker (Draft)
Milwaukee-
Andrew Bogut (Draft)
Brandon Jennings (Draft)
John Salmons (Trade)
Thunder-
Kevin Durant (Draft)
Jeff Green (Trade)
Russell Westbrook (Draft)
Charlotte-
Stephen Jackson (Trade)
Gerald Wallace (Expansion Draft)
Tyrus Thomas/Raymond Felton (I feel it's tied) (Trade/Draft)
The Thunder haven't picked up a big name free agent since they were the Sonics, nobody wants to sign with Charlotte or Milwaukee, and aside from Richard Jefferson, the last major name that the Spurs pulled in was Michael Finley, back when that meant something.
The closest a small market team came to nailing a big time free agent was when Jason Kidd came within one Joumana of signing to the Spurs back in July of 2003. It signified that even a team coming off of a championship with all of the major players coming back could not sign a top free agent, even if it made basketball sense.
Small markets aren't enticing for those who are interested in marketing themselves beyond basketball. I sincerely doubt that Lebron ever considered the Bucks or the Thunder as serious options, despite the playing opportunities that they could offer him. It will never just be about basketball. In the eyes of a casual fan, Kevin Durant is a guy who kind of looks like Jamie Foxx who might be better than Lebron at scoring a basketball. They see him occasionally dunk on Sportscenter. He may as well be playing Division III ball. He is the great white whale of the casual fan. Few second-tier free agents would want to be stuck in that position.
In the NFL, this is a non-issue. If you win, you'll be on TV. Football is huge enough in this country that every team has some following, and every team will get press. Resting on its own mythology, the NFL perpetuates itself, and this allows players to go anywhere, to establish themselves against the existing myth of the next Barry Sanders or the next Johnny Unitas.
This is also a result of players in the NFL largely being famous enough (due to broader national exposure) to bring the cameras with them. Brett Favre, Tom Brady, Adrian Peterson, Terrell Owens (less so now), Randy Moss, and players of their ilk shine in the spotlight enough to where they can choose where they want to play and the money will follow them.
I think the old axiom of, "There are no small parts, only small actors" holds true. In this case, there are no small markets, only small stars. If Lebron James chose to play in a small market, the cameras would follow him. Cleveland wasn't exactly a huge draw before 2003. He's enough of a star on and off the court to thrust a team into the national spotlight just by playing with them.
I believe that Kevin Durant's star will continue to rise and the Thunder will start attracting national attention with their (presumably brief) playoff run and Kevin Durant's imminent scoring title. Of course, if he doesn't win the scoring title, he doesn't get noticed, simply because no one cares about the second place finisher. BUT, if the pieces fall into place, he'll put Oklahoma City on the map.
If the team has great chemistry, you can win a championship. But if the team has one guy putting up monster stats, you'll get noticed. It's all about priorities.
Manu Ginobili is a box office draw and a vital cog in the Spurs plans for the future. He could have been resigned for less than the maximum, but I'm supposing that the front office wanted to show loyalty and possibly put Manu up to signing for somewhat less than the maximum.
Not that anyone will notice.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Out the Damn Loop
As is an unfortunate consequence of being a sociable human being, it is impossible to watch basketball every single night of basketball season. That's not even counting the holidays.
So, as someone who watches an ungodly amount of basketball, loves the game with all of its flaws, and would probably neglect a child in pursuit of basketball (just kidding), I tend to dwell on it a bit when I miss a game. It's not that I never want to go out at night and just hang out with my friends, as the young people do (I'll try not to sound 50 years older than I am, here), but ultimately, I don't mind being left to my own devices for a night, taking in a solid 4-5 hours of basketball. I've never really had a switch in my brain that says, "This is too much of a good thing," so League Pass has made sure that there is always something to do on any given night.
Of course, when I miss my course of 2 to 13 games a night, I try not to obsessively look at the score on ESPN Scorecenter. I don't manically check my twitter feed (@bluesforaredsun , if you're feeling so inclined). I just relax and try to enjoy whatever it is I'm doing, because basketball, and sports in general, does not constitute the whole of my life. Living and dying on every single fast break, three pointer, rebound, swat, dunk, turnover, PER score, and salary cap adjustment is not how I want to spend my time away from basketball.
That said, I wasn't too upset about missing two games last night, especially not from looking at the final scores. Neither one was very close (decided by double digits) and in both cases, the better team/higher seed (Orlando and Denver) won in the end.
When I'm watching it, I'm very locked in to all of these things, and when I'm reading about it, I'm hyperconscious of all of these things. For better or for worse, from 7-12, I become a savant. I am not aware of the names of the planets, or the historical significance of Utopia, or what my birthday is. I can tell you who set the assist record (Scott Skiles, 30, 1990, winner of Most Improved Player, 1990-91, current coach of Milaukee Bucks, former coach of Phoenix and Chicago...), who led the Association in scoring during the 80's (Alex English), who had the most points in a single season in ABA history (Dan Issel), etc. I'm a fountain of knowledge.
Aside from the occasional basketball metaphor or geeking out with my girlfriend, I don't talk about basketball outside of that. It's one of those quiet things that I didn't tell people I was into until about a year ago, and it's not something I discuss. I own a single jersey, a knockoff Ginobili with stiff letters. I care about it deeply and passionately, but it's not something I choose to express outwardly. It's one of the most important things in my life at least 5 nights a week, and yet I casually walk away from it to go do 'normal' things. I'm not sure where that places me. It may be more a personal thing than a basketball thing.
That said, when I look at the scores now, I feel desperately and hopelessly confused. I'm not sure what happened, and the box score can only reflect so much. I feel a minor amount of panic. "Did I miss an epic struggle that turned into a blowout? Was Orlando wire-to-wire?" It's all a purely academic exercise, though. I've been locked out by my own decision, and I'm two games behind the rest of the basketball world. If this were my job, I could justifiably shut off the rest of the world, but it's not. There seems to be two worlds: my basketball world, that series of interconnected statistics that unite me with people I've never met, and the regular world, in which I'm a regular guy of an average height who is unimpressed by what the world has to offer. The worlds rarely intermingle. I have friends who enjoy basketball and will discuss it with me, but only on a fairly superficial level. Basketball and everything associated with it is a passion, but ultimately, it's a private one. It could be that I fear no one will understand, or that I simply want a part of myself to myself, but I will never be the guy that rouses his friends on to see a basketball game.
So I look at the box scores and try to figure it out, because I can't really ask anyone else. In some respects, people like Matt Moore, John Hollinger, Zach Harper, and Tom Ziller get to know more about me than my own friends and family do. I'm a mystery for five hours, and it'll probably stay that way.
So, as someone who watches an ungodly amount of basketball, loves the game with all of its flaws, and would probably neglect a child in pursuit of basketball (just kidding), I tend to dwell on it a bit when I miss a game. It's not that I never want to go out at night and just hang out with my friends, as the young people do (I'll try not to sound 50 years older than I am, here), but ultimately, I don't mind being left to my own devices for a night, taking in a solid 4-5 hours of basketball. I've never really had a switch in my brain that says, "This is too much of a good thing," so League Pass has made sure that there is always something to do on any given night.
Of course, when I miss my course of 2 to 13 games a night, I try not to obsessively look at the score on ESPN Scorecenter. I don't manically check my twitter feed (@bluesforaredsun , if you're feeling so inclined). I just relax and try to enjoy whatever it is I'm doing, because basketball, and sports in general, does not constitute the whole of my life. Living and dying on every single fast break, three pointer, rebound, swat, dunk, turnover, PER score, and salary cap adjustment is not how I want to spend my time away from basketball.
That said, I wasn't too upset about missing two games last night, especially not from looking at the final scores. Neither one was very close (decided by double digits) and in both cases, the better team/higher seed (Orlando and Denver) won in the end.
When I'm watching it, I'm very locked in to all of these things, and when I'm reading about it, I'm hyperconscious of all of these things. For better or for worse, from 7-12, I become a savant. I am not aware of the names of the planets, or the historical significance of Utopia, or what my birthday is. I can tell you who set the assist record (Scott Skiles, 30, 1990, winner of Most Improved Player, 1990-91, current coach of Milaukee Bucks, former coach of Phoenix and Chicago...), who led the Association in scoring during the 80's (Alex English), who had the most points in a single season in ABA history (Dan Issel), etc. I'm a fountain of knowledge.
Aside from the occasional basketball metaphor or geeking out with my girlfriend, I don't talk about basketball outside of that. It's one of those quiet things that I didn't tell people I was into until about a year ago, and it's not something I discuss. I own a single jersey, a knockoff Ginobili with stiff letters. I care about it deeply and passionately, but it's not something I choose to express outwardly. It's one of the most important things in my life at least 5 nights a week, and yet I casually walk away from it to go do 'normal' things. I'm not sure where that places me. It may be more a personal thing than a basketball thing.
That said, when I look at the scores now, I feel desperately and hopelessly confused. I'm not sure what happened, and the box score can only reflect so much. I feel a minor amount of panic. "Did I miss an epic struggle that turned into a blowout? Was Orlando wire-to-wire?" It's all a purely academic exercise, though. I've been locked out by my own decision, and I'm two games behind the rest of the basketball world. If this were my job, I could justifiably shut off the rest of the world, but it's not. There seems to be two worlds: my basketball world, that series of interconnected statistics that unite me with people I've never met, and the regular world, in which I'm a regular guy of an average height who is unimpressed by what the world has to offer. The worlds rarely intermingle. I have friends who enjoy basketball and will discuss it with me, but only on a fairly superficial level. Basketball and everything associated with it is a passion, but ultimately, it's a private one. It could be that I fear no one will understand, or that I simply want a part of myself to myself, but I will never be the guy that rouses his friends on to see a basketball game.
So I look at the box scores and try to figure it out, because I can't really ask anyone else. In some respects, people like Matt Moore, John Hollinger, Zach Harper, and Tom Ziller get to know more about me than my own friends and family do. I'm a mystery for five hours, and it'll probably stay that way.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Darlin', Don't You Go and Cut Your Hair
(This is a continuation of my blossoming twitter bromance with @Clintonite33 . Read him at SLC Dunk. http://www.slcdunk.com/2010/3/30/1397741/the-key-to-kobe-bryant )
Kobe's about to hit the 39k mark in about half a season. This doesn't take into account playoff minutes, which put him just a hair over 43k. 43,000 minutes played against the most vicious basketball competition on Earth. We'll ignore his Olympic minutes, though those have contributed to the wear and tear on the Implacable Man.
2,863 minutes per regular season.
(Assuming he plays every game for the rest of the season) 79.2 games per regular season, at 36.6 minutes a game. Take into account the fact that his first two seasons he only played about 3,000 minutes combined, which would be a god damn vacation for the man at this point.
I may not like Kobe, but I respect his style of play immensely, and his work ethic and sheer determination are dumbfounding.
That said, his body is going to start falling apart very quickly. He doesn't drive to the basket nearly as much as he has in the past, and his decline will soon be evident in other aspects of his game. It won't happen overnight, though. It'll be gradual, and like all great declining stars, he will be forced to adapt.
This summer, he learned the Dream Shake. One, that's super cool and makes me jealous that I can't Megaman from NBA stars. Two, it indicates that he knows that he'll lose a step, and like latter-day Jordan, he'll be making his points in the paint.
If he's determined to follow the trajectory of Jordan's career to a T, this is probably his best bet. He's got the size to be a small forward, and he can still get his jumpers in. He'll probably lead the league in FG%, just to prove that he can. Kobe will be hoisting whatever team that will take him onto his back, marching into the sunset until his ACLs disintegrate and he burns out brightly, averaging 18 points, 6 rebounds, and 2 assists a game.
(For what it's worth, I think Kobe will always be able to drop 20 in a game, even if not consistently. As someone who flirted with the Kings in his youth and currently follows the Spurs, it's guaranteed that Kobe will get his. I've seen it happen over and over.)
That would be boring, though, and Kobe always had the potential to be something cool and different than Jordan. I am, of course, referring to Frobe Bryant:
25-6-6, team player, clutch shooter, controversy free. Just quietly competitive and trying to get his. Mmm, early Kobe. Also a more than competent defensive stopper.
Yes, I know he doesn't have the afro in that one. That's beside the point.
Imagine if Kobe Bryant decided that he'd fulfill a role not dissimilar to the one he held on the 2008 Olympic team. He'd probably get DPOY, mostly because name recognition, but he'd also be a significant asset to whatever team he was on. Unfortunately, his focus is on being the #1 option on his team, and he wants to be the guy for his team. This probably won't happen.
Of course, this pride is going to lead Kobe on a path that's a little bit Jordan and a little bit different. Kobe will go the way of John Stockton.
"But Greg," you might say, you being the three people who read this blog, "why would he be like John Stockton? Is this because a bunch of Jazz fans have started following you?"
"Yes," I would reply. "But also for another good reason, which I will type instead of speak to you."
Stockton put up scarily consistent numbers. From 87-88 (what I would term his breakout year, as he started 70+ games for the first time) to his retirement in 02-03, his per 36 scoring average is 15.15625. I put up that full number because the standard deviation for these stats is approximately 4.02077936. The biggest deviation in that time span is 0.36 standard deviations away from the norm. For those of you who aren't statistic nerds, that means his scores varied, at most, 14.06% from the mean.
For those of you who aren't math nerds, this means that John Stockton, for 16 years, varied, at most, 2 points from the same production (points-wise) that he had when he was 25. This is, in a word, absurd. His steals appear to be somewhat similar, but I'm too lazy to calculate that at this minute.
Stockton was renowned for his offseason conditioning, which led him to put up consistently good numbers for his entire career (This is a bit of an understatement. Steals and Assists leader, all-time, beating 2nd place by a very comfortable margin, not to mention that he was starting at the age of 40 without being the general manager of a team.). Kobe is also renowned for his work ethic. While not exactly the model of consistency that Stockton is, Kobe has averaged over 20 points a game since the turn of the century, and, save for 03-04, he's averaged at least 25 since 00-01. Kobe is consistently good, and it's unlikely he'll take a sharp decline, but given that Stockton was never the #1 option on his team (The Mailman averaged 20+ from his sophomore year onwards) and never had to carry the Jazz all on his own, Kobe is slowly unraveling at the seams.
That's where the Jordan comes back in. By slowly adjusting his playing style to a more perimeter oriented affair (pre-Wizards, post-72 wins) and maintaining his Stockton-like regiment, Kobe might just beat back Father Time for another 3 or 4 years.
That said, Stockton peaked at 37.8 minutes per game, the year that he set the single season assist record. Kobe is set to break that barrier for the tenth time this season, and as mentioned before, averages just under a minute less than that for his entire career. Can the Lakers survive with Kobe playing 8 minutes less per game next season? Can Kobe survive with not being needed? It all reads like a horrid day time soap, especially this last one: if they can't, can both of them survive Kobe retiring at 36, completely broken down?
Kobe's about to hit the 39k mark in about half a season. This doesn't take into account playoff minutes, which put him just a hair over 43k. 43,000 minutes played against the most vicious basketball competition on Earth. We'll ignore his Olympic minutes, though those have contributed to the wear and tear on the Implacable Man.
2,863 minutes per regular season.
(Assuming he plays every game for the rest of the season) 79.2 games per regular season, at 36.6 minutes a game. Take into account the fact that his first two seasons he only played about 3,000 minutes combined, which would be a god damn vacation for the man at this point.
I may not like Kobe, but I respect his style of play immensely, and his work ethic and sheer determination are dumbfounding.
That said, his body is going to start falling apart very quickly. He doesn't drive to the basket nearly as much as he has in the past, and his decline will soon be evident in other aspects of his game. It won't happen overnight, though. It'll be gradual, and like all great declining stars, he will be forced to adapt.
This summer, he learned the Dream Shake. One, that's super cool and makes me jealous that I can't Megaman from NBA stars. Two, it indicates that he knows that he'll lose a step, and like latter-day Jordan, he'll be making his points in the paint.
If he's determined to follow the trajectory of Jordan's career to a T, this is probably his best bet. He's got the size to be a small forward, and he can still get his jumpers in. He'll probably lead the league in FG%, just to prove that he can. Kobe will be hoisting whatever team that will take him onto his back, marching into the sunset until his ACLs disintegrate and he burns out brightly, averaging 18 points, 6 rebounds, and 2 assists a game.
(For what it's worth, I think Kobe will always be able to drop 20 in a game, even if not consistently. As someone who flirted with the Kings in his youth and currently follows the Spurs, it's guaranteed that Kobe will get his. I've seen it happen over and over.)
That would be boring, though, and Kobe always had the potential to be something cool and different than Jordan. I am, of course, referring to Frobe Bryant:
25-6-6, team player, clutch shooter, controversy free. Just quietly competitive and trying to get his. Mmm, early Kobe. Also a more than competent defensive stopper.
Yes, I know he doesn't have the afro in that one. That's beside the point.
Imagine if Kobe Bryant decided that he'd fulfill a role not dissimilar to the one he held on the 2008 Olympic team. He'd probably get DPOY, mostly because name recognition, but he'd also be a significant asset to whatever team he was on. Unfortunately, his focus is on being the #1 option on his team, and he wants to be the guy for his team. This probably won't happen.
Of course, this pride is going to lead Kobe on a path that's a little bit Jordan and a little bit different. Kobe will go the way of John Stockton.
"But Greg," you might say, you being the three people who read this blog, "why would he be like John Stockton? Is this because a bunch of Jazz fans have started following you?"
"Yes," I would reply. "But also for another good reason, which I will type instead of speak to you."
Stockton put up scarily consistent numbers. From 87-88 (what I would term his breakout year, as he started 70+ games for the first time) to his retirement in 02-03, his per 36 scoring average is 15.15625. I put up that full number because the standard deviation for these stats is approximately 4.02077936. The biggest deviation in that time span is 0.36 standard deviations away from the norm. For those of you who aren't statistic nerds, that means his scores varied, at most, 14.06% from the mean.
For those of you who aren't math nerds, this means that John Stockton, for 16 years, varied, at most, 2 points from the same production (points-wise) that he had when he was 25. This is, in a word, absurd. His steals appear to be somewhat similar, but I'm too lazy to calculate that at this minute.
Stockton was renowned for his offseason conditioning, which led him to put up consistently good numbers for his entire career (This is a bit of an understatement. Steals and Assists leader, all-time, beating 2nd place by a very comfortable margin, not to mention that he was starting at the age of 40 without being the general manager of a team.). Kobe is also renowned for his work ethic. While not exactly the model of consistency that Stockton is, Kobe has averaged over 20 points a game since the turn of the century, and, save for 03-04, he's averaged at least 25 since 00-01. Kobe is consistently good, and it's unlikely he'll take a sharp decline, but given that Stockton was never the #1 option on his team (The Mailman averaged 20+ from his sophomore year onwards) and never had to carry the Jazz all on his own, Kobe is slowly unraveling at the seams.
That's where the Jordan comes back in. By slowly adjusting his playing style to a more perimeter oriented affair (pre-Wizards, post-72 wins) and maintaining his Stockton-like regiment, Kobe might just beat back Father Time for another 3 or 4 years.
That said, Stockton peaked at 37.8 minutes per game, the year that he set the single season assist record. Kobe is set to break that barrier for the tenth time this season, and as mentioned before, averages just under a minute less than that for his entire career. Can the Lakers survive with Kobe playing 8 minutes less per game next season? Can Kobe survive with not being needed? It all reads like a horrid day time soap, especially this last one: if they can't, can both of them survive Kobe retiring at 36, completely broken down?
Transformers: Off Guards in Disguise
Chris Paul and Darren Collison come in at about 12'0 combined. When the Hornets drafted Collison, the assumption was that Collison would be Paul's backup, and until Paul's knee failed him, so it went, and it was pretty alright.
Let's focus on Collison for a minute. Off the bench, he averages about 15 mpg, with 6 ppg and 2.4 apg. Good numbers for a substitute who's going to receive fairly limited minutes. Chris Paul carries the team on his handsome shoulders, and even if they're splitting the minutes between Paul and Collison almost exactly, with only one in the game at a time, and always having one at the point, CP3 is getting 33 minutes of burn every game. Enough to make a difference, not so much that CP3 is falling apart at the seams by the playoffs. (Don Nelson could learn something from this approach.)
Of course, Collison took over the starting position when Paul went out, and as a starter, he averaged 40 mpg with 18.2 ppg and 9.0 apg. Also worth noting that his 3P% jumped from a feeble 29% to a scorching 41%. The increased shooting from long range, I would assume, would be from more minutes allowing him to get into a shooting groove and from better decision making that comes from getting burn.
This was all well and good, and everyone was pretty impressed with Collison for stepping into CP3's shoes and everything not immediately collapsing. The revelation that is Marcus Thornton probably did not hurt, either. The two have powerful chemistry on the court, and I've already discussed on this blog how devastating Thornton is.
And then, Chris Paul came back. I thought it was a bad idea, as the last time he was injured, he came back too early to push his team to the playoffs and reinjured himself. With no hope of the playoffs, it seemed like CP3 was just going to hurt himself again. Of course, what I didn't realize was that the Hornets coaching staff could possibly be using this time to see how Collison and Paul would interact directly.
[Now, here's my little disclaimer: I've argued that Marcus Thornton should be a sixth man in the recent past, and I've realized that this is, well, dumb. The Hornets need to build their secondary from the ground up. Their foundation should probably be Collison, because he's an excellent point guard.]
I'm not a real Hornets fan, so I haven't taken the time to watch Chris Paul since his first night back, which was a pretty dull affair. It's to be expected of a guy shaking off injury rust. I blearily saw the last few minutes of the Lakers-Hornets game last night because I received a phone call telling me that Kobe was about to foul out, and my being is fueled by schadenfreude.
However, through my sleep encrusted eyes, I noticed that Collison and Paul were playing together, which I thought was strange. Small ball is a valid-ish strategy, but Collison and Paul are already considered undersized as point guards. They played very well together, though. As my twitter associate Clintonite33 (who actually inspired this post, and whom you should follow... http://twitter.com/Clintonite33) pointed out, Paul and Collison each had a game high adjusted +/- of +14, combined for a +23 when they were on the court together, and (here's the wild part) they outscored LA 49-16 while together on the court.
I've always liked Chris Paul's game. He's a pure point guard who can take over games from a scoring perspective if he needs to. I've also liked Collison's game. He's also a pure point guard who can take over games from a scoring perspective. I also thought that if they played together, they'd end up cancelling each other out, as conventional wisdom would state that given that both are point guards, they need the ball in their hands most of the time to be effective.
I, of course, had not taken into account that they can (and will) light up the scoreboard if opposing teams play off them. Doubling up on the point guards created matchup problems for LA, because Paul and Collison are lightning quick. Artest can defend down to the shooting guard position, but Collison is too fast for him to handle. Kobe is the only feasible defender for opposing point guards, as Farmar and Fisher can't defend shit. Odom might have been fast enough back in his Miami days, but his defense has fallen by the wayside. They worked the Lakers last night, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.
Also worth noting is that in the last 5 games, Collison's assists have dipped a bit (5.8 vs. 9.0), but his scoring has remained consistent with when he was a starter (18.2), and his FG% and 3P% have gone up (47% and 41% to 58% and 63%, respectively) , and this is all despite the fact he's playing 10 less minutes per game. He seems to have shifted into his new position off of the bench nicely. Part of this is that he's still been playing at the point, but he's also been playing with Chris Paul and meshing nicely. The three guard rotation of the Hornets is scarily potent. I would not expect Marcus Thornton to relinquish his position as starter, especially given how well he's performed there (19.2 ppg, 3.6 rpg, 2.3 apg), but he doesn't really need to. Any combination of the three (Paul/Thornton, Paul/Collison, Collison/Thornton) has proven to be effective, and it makes an interesting case for having multiple young PGs on any given team.
It's a radical idea, not unlike the Wildcat offense or even the spread offense once were in football. The desire to innovate is a natural one, as it leads to an effective offense, simply because no one else has devised a counter for it. The end result of a dual PG offense would be the ability to either constantly push the tempo or reign it back in control at the expense of size. It's an odd combination of small ball and having a point forward. If you have two players who can handle the ball, then that's two players who can run the offense. It's impractical for an entire game, but it's good as a change of pace strategy. It may never catch on, or it might set the league ablaze. For now, it's too new to tell, and even though it beat the Lakers last night, it could just be a fluke. It's won a single game, but nobody knows if it can be sustained for an entire season. The idea seems new even to the Hornets. It may not have even been their intent to do things this way.
That said, in the petri dish of the NBA...
Let's focus on Collison for a minute. Off the bench, he averages about 15 mpg, with 6 ppg and 2.4 apg. Good numbers for a substitute who's going to receive fairly limited minutes. Chris Paul carries the team on his handsome shoulders, and even if they're splitting the minutes between Paul and Collison almost exactly, with only one in the game at a time, and always having one at the point, CP3 is getting 33 minutes of burn every game. Enough to make a difference, not so much that CP3 is falling apart at the seams by the playoffs. (Don Nelson could learn something from this approach.)
Of course, Collison took over the starting position when Paul went out, and as a starter, he averaged 40 mpg with 18.2 ppg and 9.0 apg. Also worth noting that his 3P% jumped from a feeble 29% to a scorching 41%. The increased shooting from long range, I would assume, would be from more minutes allowing him to get into a shooting groove and from better decision making that comes from getting burn.
This was all well and good, and everyone was pretty impressed with Collison for stepping into CP3's shoes and everything not immediately collapsing. The revelation that is Marcus Thornton probably did not hurt, either. The two have powerful chemistry on the court, and I've already discussed on this blog how devastating Thornton is.
And then, Chris Paul came back. I thought it was a bad idea, as the last time he was injured, he came back too early to push his team to the playoffs and reinjured himself. With no hope of the playoffs, it seemed like CP3 was just going to hurt himself again. Of course, what I didn't realize was that the Hornets coaching staff could possibly be using this time to see how Collison and Paul would interact directly.
[Now, here's my little disclaimer: I've argued that Marcus Thornton should be a sixth man in the recent past, and I've realized that this is, well, dumb. The Hornets need to build their secondary from the ground up. Their foundation should probably be Collison, because he's an excellent point guard.]
I'm not a real Hornets fan, so I haven't taken the time to watch Chris Paul since his first night back, which was a pretty dull affair. It's to be expected of a guy shaking off injury rust. I blearily saw the last few minutes of the Lakers-Hornets game last night because I received a phone call telling me that Kobe was about to foul out, and my being is fueled by schadenfreude.
However, through my sleep encrusted eyes, I noticed that Collison and Paul were playing together, which I thought was strange. Small ball is a valid-ish strategy, but Collison and Paul are already considered undersized as point guards. They played very well together, though. As my twitter associate Clintonite33 (who actually inspired this post, and whom you should follow... http://twitter.com/Clintonite33) pointed out, Paul and Collison each had a game high adjusted +/- of +14, combined for a +23 when they were on the court together, and (here's the wild part) they outscored LA 49-16 while together on the court.
I've always liked Chris Paul's game. He's a pure point guard who can take over games from a scoring perspective if he needs to. I've also liked Collison's game. He's also a pure point guard who can take over games from a scoring perspective. I also thought that if they played together, they'd end up cancelling each other out, as conventional wisdom would state that given that both are point guards, they need the ball in their hands most of the time to be effective.
I, of course, had not taken into account that they can (and will) light up the scoreboard if opposing teams play off them. Doubling up on the point guards created matchup problems for LA, because Paul and Collison are lightning quick. Artest can defend down to the shooting guard position, but Collison is too fast for him to handle. Kobe is the only feasible defender for opposing point guards, as Farmar and Fisher can't defend shit. Odom might have been fast enough back in his Miami days, but his defense has fallen by the wayside. They worked the Lakers last night, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.
Also worth noting is that in the last 5 games, Collison's assists have dipped a bit (5.8 vs. 9.0), but his scoring has remained consistent with when he was a starter (18.2), and his FG% and 3P% have gone up (47% and 41% to 58% and 63%, respectively) , and this is all despite the fact he's playing 10 less minutes per game. He seems to have shifted into his new position off of the bench nicely. Part of this is that he's still been playing at the point, but he's also been playing with Chris Paul and meshing nicely. The three guard rotation of the Hornets is scarily potent. I would not expect Marcus Thornton to relinquish his position as starter, especially given how well he's performed there (19.2 ppg, 3.6 rpg, 2.3 apg), but he doesn't really need to. Any combination of the three (Paul/Thornton, Paul/Collison, Collison/Thornton) has proven to be effective, and it makes an interesting case for having multiple young PGs on any given team.
It's a radical idea, not unlike the Wildcat offense or even the spread offense once were in football. The desire to innovate is a natural one, as it leads to an effective offense, simply because no one else has devised a counter for it. The end result of a dual PG offense would be the ability to either constantly push the tempo or reign it back in control at the expense of size. It's an odd combination of small ball and having a point forward. If you have two players who can handle the ball, then that's two players who can run the offense. It's impractical for an entire game, but it's good as a change of pace strategy. It may never catch on, or it might set the league ablaze. For now, it's too new to tell, and even though it beat the Lakers last night, it could just be a fluke. It's won a single game, but nobody knows if it can be sustained for an entire season. The idea seems new even to the Hornets. It may not have even been their intent to do things this way.
That said, in the petri dish of the NBA...
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