I’m writing this before the start of Game 1 in Los Angeles. Here are my thoughts:
When I picked Phoenix to come out of the West, I didn’t anticipate Kobe Bryant shooting 47.7% from the field and 34.8% from 3P. I assumed he would shoot worse than he did in the regular season, not better. I was wrong.
In retrospect, it was probably stupid to bet against Kobe. Yes, I know this is an “old school” viewpoint. The kind of thing I used to argue with people about when I was a big fan of Kobe because of his “killer instinct.” I laughed at those same people for the past two years when they tried to tell me Kobe was better than LeBron James. Those people were wrong then, and they still are. However…
James’s performance in the Celtics series has really, truly changed everything for me. I know players can’t be judged, ultimately, on one game or one series or even one season - at least not in the long term - but, sports, just like the arts, are a “What have you done for me lately business?” And there’s little question that Kobe Bryant has done more for the Lakers than LeBron did for the Cavs. Now, if we want to go back and talk about Bryant in the first three years post-Shaq, well…
The Celtics are playing better defense in this postseason than they did two years ago when they won the title. That season I bet against the Celtics in the Finals (I even lost $10 to Holland, who chose Boston over Los Angeles because of their efficiency differential). That year I assumed the championship-less trio of Paul Pierce, Ray Allen, and Kevin Garnett would crack under pressure. And they almost did, twice, against Atlanta and Cleveland. But they won the title anyway, and now, this year, after playing .500 basketball in the second half of the season, have somehow flipped the proverbial switch … and I am about to pick them to win the series in 6. Somewhere in all of this there is a lesson, although I’m not sure exactly what…
I thought I said I shouldn’t have bet against Kobe? Well, I will bet against him when he’s facing Boston’s defense.
I know Rajon Rondo is great. I know he’s sometimes spectacular and does more for that team offensively than any other player. But, in my opinion, Garnett is everything to the Celtics. He propels their defense. Remember, Pierce and Allen were never good defenders before they got to Boston. Unfortunately, LeBron did not have the same effect on Antawn Jamison, Mo Williams, and Shaquille O’Neal.
Look, there’s no reason Rasheed Wallace should play well. There’s no reason Just Glen Davis should be able to get rebounds over Pau Gasol and Lamar Odom and even an injured Andrew Bynum. But I suspect both things will happen at some point during this series - and they will happen much more often than I ever would have guessed last summer or this May.
I wonder what LeBron thinks about when he sees this footage of Kobe shooting champagne all over his teammates, looking so unbelievably jovial that we almost believe he’s faking it because it seems so out of character. Was Kobe really thinking about ring number six last year in the locker room? Does LeBron only look that way now when he thinks about July 1st?
Okay, okay. I’m turning into Woj. I’ll leave all of this at that. Three years ago as the Cavs started playing the Spurs for the NBA championship, I truly didn’t believe we’d be where we are now in 2010, watching Boston play LA in the Finals. Remember, that was before the Garnett and Allen deals. That was around the time when Kobe declared, “Get your Bulls jerseys fellas.” I guess three years can change everything. Right now, as things in Cleveland are surrounded by uncertainty, keep that in mind. Shit is always uncertain before it becomes great.
HBO aired a much hyped documentary about the career-long rivalry between Larry Bird and Magic Johnson this past Saturday night. I watched it tonight, but I’ve also seen a host of basketball writers comment about it since this weekend. All of the commentary is in basically the same glowing terms. Though they all applaud the doc itself, the bigger cheers seem to come from the memories it revived of the actual on-court battles that these two great players had in the earlier era of the NBA—battles that, from the footage I’ve seen, were truly epic.
Here’s what I know: on court, Bird and Magic hated one another. It was about more than basketball to them. Because of the franchises they were both drafted by, the personal vendettas that went back to their college years took on all kinds of new dimensions in the pros. West coast vs. east coast. Glamorous Los Angeles vs. working class Boston. The cold-blooded recluse vs. the warm-hearted charmer. Black vs. white in a racially divided America. To hear them tell it, each guy went to the box scores the next morning and checked to see how his rival did the night before, and each of them used those results as fuel to try to get better. They lived to play one another. More accurately, they lived to try to beat one another.
Admittedly, part of this antagonism was roiling before Magic and Bird arrived on the scene. The Lakers & Celtics had squared off in the Finals seven different times prior to the 1979-80 season, with Boston winning on each occasion. Magic may not have been the whole difference, but he was certainly instrumental. The Celtics and Lakers met in the 1983-84, 1984-85, and 1986-87 finals, with the Lakers coming out victorious in the last two of those three series. Magic was unanimously voted the Finals MVP in ‘87. Bird received that honor when the Celtics took the trophy in ‘84.
While Lakers / Celtics in the Magic / Bird era was arguably the greatest NBA rivalry of the 20th century, there were certainly others. The “Bad Boys” Pistons vs the Bulls, where the infamous “Jordan Rules” were spawned. The Lakers vs. the Pistons in the same time period, along with the MJ Bulls vs. Bird’s Celtics. Even the early 2000s gave the fans the Lakers vs the Sacramento Kings, which had enough drama, entertainment value, and genuine poisonous feelings between the players that it could be considered great.
Yet today’s NBA has none of that.
Yes, rivalries still exist. Obviously the Celtics / Lakers tilt in the 2007-8 Finals was treated as big news. The Suns and Spurs don’t like each other very much. The Cavs were even at the center of what could have been a great rivalry with the Wizards—that is, if they were ever meeting anywhere later than the opening round of the post-season, and if the Wizards were ever actually able to beat the Cavs.
But unfortunately for the fans, we’ve entered what I will call the Sportsmanship Era of the NBA.
Part of this sad circumstance has to do with the way the game is officiated. Chuck Daly’s Jordan Rules made for great drama and a more even competition, but they also very much made it possible that the greatest player in the game could end up getting knocked out of the series (or more) by injury. Flagrant fouls were established in the NBA in 1993 to help protect players like Jordan, whose mastery of the game was so high that only the roughest physical play could hope to stop them.
This isn’t a phenomenon specific to the NBA. The NFL is also notorious for the legislative body armor it’s created around the quarterback position. All sports commissioners have a justified compulsion to protect their leagues’ biggest stars. The acknowledged wisdom is that it’s those stars who generate interest in the league and, therefore, revenue. While the league office can’t make these stars bullet-proof, they can certainly institute as many precautions and penalties as they think are necessary.
The irony, though, is that the “revised” officiating has arguably made the game far less competitive and, therefore, interesting. Just as linebackers and defensive linemen in the NFL argue that they can barely do their jobs now, NBA players argue that it’s impossible to even get near enough to established great players to hope to stop them. In recent NBA history, I like to point to the way Da-wyane Wade was officiated in the 2006 Finals as the best example of this. (There’s an entire series on Youtube covering the 5 most outrageous phantom calls in that series. Phantom fouls three and five are my favorites.)
It’s a conscious decision on the part of the league. David Stern and company have clearly come to the conclusion that what best serves the NBA is great players given a wide berth to be great, not the best teams fighting each other the hardest to win. I’m sure Stern would argue that the two are not mutually exclusive, but I beg to differ—partially because the life or death intensity of Bird and Magic’s rivalry in the 1980s was the phenomenon that prevented the league from capsizing.
By no means am I saying that I want the players going after one another in the parking lot with tire irons. (The last thing I need in my life as a sports fan is LeBron howling “Why? Whyyyyyyy?” while holding a kneecap busted by some thug hired by Kobe to take him out of the Finals.) I’m also not saying that sportsmanship shouldn’t be taught in youth sports, when kids need to learn the boundaries of behavior. But considering the firestorm that ignited over LeBron’s refusal to shake hands with Orlando after losing in game 6 of the ECF last season, I am saying that the focus on clean play and sportsmanship in professional sports has gone too far.
In fairness, the league isn’t wholly responsible for this situation. The other contributing factor is the culture of friendship that’s developed among the players. Unlike LeBron and Da-wyane, Bird and Magic weren’t going to dinner with one another during the season or advising one another on contract negotiations. They played against one another once in college, but they didn’t grow up together in AAU tournaments as high-schoolers and younger.
I’m not necessarily happy about this development as a fan, but it’s one I can understand as a human being. NBA players’ lives are basketball, and this starts at a very early age. Basketball is their recreation, their escape, their profession, their social life, their fraternity, and in many cases, their support group. Outside of professional sports, how many other industries are there in the world where a 19 year-old African-American kid can not only become a multi-millionaire, but also associate with a bunch of other people in the exact same position? I don’t think you need a second finger to count. In this regard, it’s natural for these players to bond with one another. Who else understands their lifestyle, their stresses, their responsibilities, and in many cases, the “have-not to have-everything” culture shock they’re experiencing?
In fact, this may be an even bigger prevention of true rivalries than the rule changes. Magic repeatedly tried to reach out to Bird early in their careers, dating back to when they played one another in the NCAA championship game. The antagonism was manufactured entirely by Bird. He snubbed Magic on purpose and made it clear that he had no desire, no reason to be friends with him. In Bird’s book, Magic’s only function in his life was to play against Bird and ultimately, to lose to him. This persisted for years. Even looking back on it now, Bird admits that his greatest joy in winning the ‘84 title was “knowing that [Magic] was suffering” because he’d lost. The plan ultimately backfired, as Magic credits that loss for driving him to work even harder so that he’d never experience that feeling again. But the fact remains that those Lakers-Celtics Finals would never have reached the intensity level they reached if not for Bird’s willingness to play the heel.
In today’s NBA, I don’t think there are any young players willing to play that role. The only star in the league with the right temperament seems to be Kobe, the guy who, according to Mike D’Antoni, implored his All-Star team to “step on the throats” of the Eastern Conference All-Stars coming out of a time-out a few years back. But like it or not, Kobe is a part of the old guard. His career is in decline. The league is in the hands of LeBron, Da-wyane, Carmelo, Chris Paul, Rajon Rondo, and others still well under 30. Led by LeBron’s example—which is really Magic’s example, minus his early relationship with Bird—these players are as much friends with one another as competitors against one another.
What they don’t have that Magic and Bird both did is a persona different from their true selves. Magic talks extensively in the documentary about how he was really two people: Earvin and Magic. Earvin was the fun-loving charmer who lit up every room he walked into; Magic was the guy who got to the gym before everyone else and literally lived for the opportunity to take revenge on Bird. After their second Finals showdown, Bird met “Earvin” when Converse coerced the two men into shooting a joint shoe commercial in French Lick, Indiana. They connected, they bonded, they felt at ease with one another. Magic then thought they could be friends the next season, that the first time they played one another, the two of them could go out for a beer after the game, chat, catch up, reminisce, etc.
But as soon as the next season began, Bird made it abundantly and instantly clear that Earvin was dead to him. He wanted to throw Magic to the crows. All of the old venom returned in an instant, and the true rivalry—the knock-down, drag-out physical rivalry, the test of wills, the hunger for not only victory but the pain of their competitor—picked up right where it left off. And it was Bird’s attitude that created that scenario.
Professional sports today are a very different animal from the Bird / Magic era: finance-wise, marketing-wise, lifestyle-wise. There didn’t use to be much drive other than winning. Now, players are brands. They have images to not just protect and develop, but cross-market. It’s less profitable for LeBron and Kobe to hate each other than it is for them to be friendly enough to co-star in Vitamin Water and Nike campaigns. Ironically, that Converse commercial with Bird and Magic—the one where they became off-court friends—may have set the precedent for this. But no one in the Sportsmanship Era of the NBA has chosen to flip that switch off so completely that the personal relationships truly become inconsequential when it comes to tip time.
Some people will still call Kobe / LeBron a rivalry. I think that label is a ridiculous reach. Yes, the public has christened them to be the two best players in the game (despite its indisputable factual error). But the two have never played one another in any game of real consequence. In fact, they’ve done more note-worthy things as Olympic teammates than NBA opponents. But the sponsors, the marketers, and even the league know deep down that rivalries are good for the sport. They know this because the Bird / Magic antagonism saved the NBA from bankruptcy in the 1980s. But it also resulted in fights, in blood, in bruises, in injuries—in short, in the general peril that the foundation of the league’s success was one bad fall away from disappearing.
So now the league does its best to cultivate these bloodless face-offs: rivalries of stats, of individual records, of awards, with the hope that they can soon have rivalries where championships are decided between teams of guys who really want to win, but also really want to lend a hand to help their opponent get up from the floor. Hard-fought games that don’t cross the danger zone into “chippy.” Just enough emotion to steer clear of technical fouls. Losers crushed by the outcome, but not so crushed that they would forget to shake hands with the victor afterward. In short, rivalries governed by sportsmanship.
I reject these pseudo-rivalries. If that makes me a barbarian, so be it. But LeBron snubbing Da-wight after losing a hard-fought series is nothing compared to Kevin McHale clothes-lining Kurt Rambis to prevent a lay-up in game 3 of the ‘84 Finals. To pretend otherwise is absurd.
My great fear in all of this is that we as current basketball fans are being shorted, that the great players of today are stopping short of the top level of intensity because of the league’s doing and the players’ handling of own their personal relationships. It’s a selfish perspective, I realize. Part of the reason the NBA is like this is because the players themselves want it to be. After all, league rules aren’t forcing them to help opponents up from fouls or hug one another before and after games. On that level, the Sportsmanship Era is a grassroots movement that puts me even further in the minority than I originally thought.
But if I’m the only one against this new age of sportsmanship, then I’d also ask this: why were so many people so excited by a reminder of when Magic and Bird hated one another? I believe that the answer is that it created some of the best, most memorable basketball ever played. The emotion, the competitiveness that took the games to that level does not exist right now. And unfortunately for the fans, I also believe that it means the current league’s full potential may never be reached.
But that’s ok. At least we can all still be friends.
Earlier today, something happened that convinced me that I had to temporarily suspend my 2010 cap reality series. Considering that I thoroughly enjoy attacking the myths involved in those free agency rumors, you might guess that what threw me off course involves an equal level of absurdity.
If so, you’d be absolutely correct. Because this afternoon, Hoops Hype’s Roland Lazenby posted an article stating that “one of [his] best inside sources, a close [Phil] Jackson associate” had slipped him the info that LeBron has made “overtures” to the organization that he unequivocally wants to be a Laker starting this summer.
Of all the ridiculous rumors spawned thanks to this topic, this one is my favorite. All of the others involve one of a list of ridiculous elements: disregard for financial reality, distortion of LeBron’s personality, and unwillingness to consider the info source. This Lakers myth takes each and every one of those and ties them up together into a single package.
First, let’s look at the dollar signs. According to Hoops Hype’s breakdown, the Lakers are currently committed* to a team payroll of $83.9M for the 2010-11 season. You may recall that I’ve been basing my cap reality series on a $53M salary ceiling for next year, since every expert I’ve read feels relatively confident that the actual number will hover around that figure. If we stick with that assumption, basic subtraction tells us that the Lakers salary commitments put them just about $30.9M—or 58.3%—over the projected cap. So there’s no way in Hell that the Lakers can get to a point where signing Bron straight up is anything other than a fantasy.
I put the * in the above paragraph to note the one caveat. Though for some reason Hoops Hype doesn’t show it, Kobe has a player option for the 2010-11 season. Theoretically, this means that he could opt out of his deal and bring the Lakers a lot closer to getting out of the tax. However, Kobe’s 2010-11 salary is slated to be $24.8M. Even if the specter of a 2011 lock-out wasn’t haunting every player in the league right now, there is literally no way that anyone would ever voluntarily walk away from $24.8M for one season’s worth of work. The idea is patently insane. So let’s not kid ourselves that Kobe’s going anywhere. Even if he did, the Lakers’ payroll would still only drop to $59.1M, meaning they still wouldn’t have any room to sign Bron unless he was willing to take the bi-annual exception.
This means that the only way that LeBron could ever make it onto the Lakers would be via sign-and-trade. Again, based off a $53M cap, the first year of Bron’s upcoming max contract would be $16.56M. As far as I can tell, the only sign and trade that would work financially for both sides would be Bron for Andrew Bynum and (ironically) Shannon Brown. Theoretically, yes, it could be done. But it would also mean that the Lakers would be committed to ~$58M in payroll for a total of five players in the 2011-12 season (assuming there is such a thing). Barring huge gains by the league between now and then, the team would already be over the cap again, then would either have to re-sign Kobe for another massive contract on top of it, or let him walk…and then fill out the rest of the roster with minimum salary players. All of this despite that Jerry Buss has been going guns out in negotiations since last summer to try to bust down salaries as much as possible (see: the Trevor Ariza exodus and Lamar Odom showdown).
The five guys under contract in that scenario could be dangerous, but to call them a juggernaut is a little extreme. Bron, Pau, a 32 year-old Lamar Odom, a 32 year-old Ron Artest, Sasha Vujacic, and Luke Walton? Hardly dynasty material. And considering that the source emphasizes that Bron doesn’t care whether Kobe’s on the team or not, then that’s the roster that he supposedly wants to make this move to play with.
The picture gets even stranger when you look beyond the numbers.
Lazenby’s source implies that the main reason Bron wants to make this move to LA is to play for Phil Jackson. If you’re keeping track, this raises the list of coaches that LeBron feels he HAS to play for to 4. The previous entries are Mike Kryzewski, Mike D’Antoni, and Pat Riley. In all cases, these wild conclusions are drawn thanks to a fundamental and misunderstood element of Bron’s personality: his compulsion to praise and be praised. No one in the NBA is quicker to give out compliments than LeBron, and naturally, his game and the way he conducts himself off the court make him a coach’s dream. Is it plausible that Bron has told each and every one of these men that he would love to play for them in the NBA? Absolutely. But does it really mean anything? I’m skeptical, to put it mildly.
As Lazenby’s article goes on to detail, though, the problem is that Phil Jackson isn’t necessarily coaching the Lakers next year. Instead, he’s battling the front office over the size and length of his contract, with the threat that he’ll walk if his demands aren’t met—just like he did to the Bulls in 1998. Lazenby writes that Phil has a burning desire to win another title in 2010-11 because he anticipates a work stoppage in 2011-12. If the Lakers don’t bend to his will, then he’ll pack up and coach elsewhere next year, bringing LeBron with him. (Brace yourself for this out-of-left-field bomb: the Knicks are mentioned as the strongest possibility(!).)
This is where the “consider the source” idea comes into play.
Lazenby spends a lot of time in the article comparing the Phil / Bulls / 1998 scenario to the Phil / Lakers / 2010 scenario. In the comparison, he recounts some of the many ways Phil has sought leverage in negotiations. In ‘98, Jordan uncharacteristically came out in vocal support of Phil. At the time, Phil had to have seen this as a major bargaining chip. (“The greatest player in the world wants me to coach his team next year, Reinsdorf. Now, about that lucrative extension…”) Ultimately, it failed. The Bulls dug in their heels, Phil quit, and Jordan looked like the sucker. Lazenby speculates that this is part of the reason that Kobe hasn’t followed Jordan’s example and publicly come out in Phil’s corner: he doesn’t want to be burned the same way Jordan was burned.
The great irony here, though, is that Lazenby seems to be completely ignorant of the fact that this anecdote completely undermines the story he’s writing about LeBron.
Remember, Lazenby’s source for the info about LeBron’s deep desire to be a Laker isn’t a “close LeBron James associate.” He’s a “close [Phil] Jackson associate.” Who happens to be playing hardball with his team’s ownership over a fat new coaching contract extension for next year? That would be Phil Jackson. Who happens to be the greatest player in the world right now? Depending on who you ask, it’s either Kobe or LeBron. (Obviously, it’s LeBron to anyone with an ounce of basketball sense or objectivity, but you know how this goes.) Which one of those two players is coached by Phil Jackson but isn’t willing to vocally come out to support his embattled coach? That would be Kobe.
So if you’re Phil Jackson, and you can’t get your own team’s superstar to support your cause, what’s the best bargaining chip you have available? How about starting a rumor that the most spectacular basketball talent on Earth (who just happens to be a free agent at the same time that your contract ends) wants to play for you on the team you want to continue coaching? Does this sound familiar to anything else Phil has done? (“The greatest player in the world wants me to coach this team next year, Buss. Now, about that lucrative extension…”)
This is a brilliant PR move on Phil’s part. Not only does it drive the Lakers’ fan base into hysterical support for him and this fevered orgasm of what the 2010-11 Lakers could be, but there’s no way for the rumor to be killed. True to his word, Bron has remained silent on his free agent plans since the fall. So it’s not as if he’s going to come out and shoot down this piece of gossip. Instead, the fantasy can run wild through the Hollywood Hills, into the Lakers front office, straight to the desk of Dr. Jerry Buss. I imagine someone fed him Lazenby’s article within 2 minutes of its appearance on Hoops Hype. The question is whether Buss was able to see past the masterful smokescreen Phil laid down.
Sadly for we Cavs fans, though, it’s a foregone conclusion that most of the rest of the NBA junkies who read it, weren’t.
Granted, there was a lot more to the game than that. Most of all, it seemed like the Lakers - for a second time - couldn’t match the Cavs’ intensity down the stretch, didn’t know how to handle the physical play, couldn’t “make love to the pressure,” in the parlance of Stephen Jackson, when it came to winning time.
This was the case despite that A) Mo was in a suit, B) Jamario was in a suit, C) the Cavs had practically no time to change the game plan from what they would’ve used had Mo been available, D) Cavs shot only 33.4% 3FG, E) the Lakers had all their players available…I could go on.
The point is, the Cavs are 2-0 against the Lakers — the exact opposite of their record in the season series last year. It doesn’t determine anything for the future, but if you try to tell me it doesn’t represent progress…well, I’ll bet that you also think Kobe is the MVP of the 4th quarter.
Amazing game today by the Cleveland Cavaliers, who were so good that they brought the dark underside of Hollywood out of the crowd. Two quick things that I’ll write about in one bullet point to make it seem like a bazooka point (I’m using special effects):
Everyone has complained about the Cavs lack of focus this season against sub .500 teams … well, they are now 2-1 against Boston, Orlando, and the Lakers, with wins against ORL and LAL on the road - plus the Boston loss was in the first game of the season. This is the exact opposite of last year, where the Cavs were 3-6 against the big dogs, with only home wins. Are we happy or mad about this? Considering the fact that the Cavs are 23-8 and second in the Eastern Conference, with injuries to Shaq and Delonte already on the books, I would say we are very happy. You’ll see … now that the Cavs beat the Lakers - and especially if they beat ATL both times they play them this upcoming week … the national media begin to change their opinion on whether or not the Cavs are championship ready.
