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.
Another win for the Cavs—the sixth straight—despite a very shaky first half. Another spectacular night for LeBron: 40 points on 16-27 FG, 13 reb, 6 ast, 2 blk, 3 stl, 4 turnovers, in 42 minutes.
But unfortunately, another discouraging performance from the Cavs’ starting back court.
Mo vs DET: 9 points on 3-9 FG, 2 reb, 4 ast, 1 blk, 0 stl, 2 turnovers in 33 min
Parker vs DET: 2 points on 1-6 FG, 0 reb, 3 ast, 0 blk, 0 stl, 1 turnover in 30 min
The team’s starting guard play has been a red flag all season. As we all know, if Mo isn’t hitting from deep, he’s basically a liability. Meanwhile, Parker is having his career-worst season in per-36 minute scoring (9.2 points) despite shooting a career-best 45.6% 3FG.
Here are their lines in the previous two games:
Mo vs. NJ: 16 points on 5-12 FG, 1 reb, 6 ast, 1 blk, 0 stl, 3 turnovers in 28 min
Parker vs. NJ: 8 points on 2-5 FG, 4 reb, 3 ast, 0 blk, 1 stl, 1 turnover in 30 min
Mo vs. NY: 7 points on 2-8 FG, 3 reb, 10 ast, 1 blk, 0 stl, 1 turnover in 25 min
Parker vs. NY: 8 points on 3-4 FG, 5 reb, 1 ast, 1 blk, 1 stl, 1 turnover in 27 min
Add all of that up, and you get the following:
Mo (last 3 gm total): 32 points on 10-29 FG, 6 reb, 20 ast, 3 blk, 0 stl, 6 TO in 86 min
Mo 3-Game Avg: 10.7 pts on 34.5%FG, 2 reb, 6.7 ast, 1 blk, 0 stl, 2 TO per 29 min
Mo 3-Game per 36: 13.3 pts on 34.5%FG, 2.5 reb, 8.3 ast, 2.5 TO
Mo Season per 36 (Actual): 16.7 pts on 43.6%FG, 3.1 reb, 5.3 ast, 2.7 TO
Parker (last 3 gm total): 18 points on 6-15 FG, 9 reb, 7 ast, 1 blk, 2 stl, 3 TO in 87 min
Parker 3-Game Avg: 6 points on 40%FG, 3 reb, 2.3 ast, 0.3 blk, 0.7 stl, 1 TO per 29 min
Parker 3-game per 36: 7.5 points on 40%FG, 3.7 reb, 2.9 ast, 1.2 TO
Parker Season per 36 (Actual): 9.2 points on 44.2% FG, 3.5 reb, 2.1 ast, 1.1 TO
In summary, this tells us that what you’re seeing right now from the starting Parker / Williams tandem is about what you should expect to see for the rest of the season and, more importantly, the playoffs. In fact, if you look at his overall game, it’s arguable that Mo has actually been playing better all-around over the course of the last 3 games than over the course of the season. Yes, his FG% and scoring are down, but his assists and rebounds have been WAY up with only a minimal rise in his TOs. That said, I suspect this is largely a result of the increased pace the Cavs played against the Knicks and Nets, so the whole thing may be a moot point.
The reality is that Delonte is still the team’s best guard by a wide berth, and unless he gets to play starter minutes (with a healthy dose of Jamario Moon off the bench), the Cavs are going to have to rely on their front line to carry them the rest of the way, just like tonight.
Bucks Saturday. Shaping up to be a tough road game, especially if JJ has another all-game Glitch like he did tonight. Expect him to be mauled regularly by Andrew Bogut for the first 6 minutes of the game, until Coldstone inserts Varejao to take his place.
Tonight is arguably one of my least favorite sports nights of the year. Why? Because 45 minutes before I started writing this post, NFL free agency began.
This is not in itself a bad thing. On one level, it’s an improvement. Instead of idle speculation, I get actual information from the NFL sources I follow about roster moves and trades. The Browns could, in theory, start to make some improvements. Most importantly to me, some 21 year-old’s 40 yard dash time at the combine will cease to qualify as news.
The problem for me is what it does to the Cavs.
The regular readers of this blog, I believe, fall into an extreme minority in the Cleveland sports community. Though there are a number of truths I could follow that sentence up with, the one I’m talking about tonight is this: I think we all care tremendously more about the Cavs than the Browns.
Unfortunately, this is not the norm. And it drives me insane.
I understand that for a long time, the Browns were very competitive, very exciting to watch, very much justified as THE team in Cleveland. They were a squad that people felt embodied the spirit of the city. They were full of charismatic stars and great players, like Jim Brown, Bernie Kosar, Clay Matthews, on and on. They were a team that people felt were almost perpetually on the verge of that elusive championship.
But let’s be honest, those days are long gone. Yet the city’s love affair with the Browns still trumps the others, regardless of who’s actually performing and who isn’t. I generally think that the Plain Dealer’s Bud Shaw is a hack, but he hit the nail on the head last spring when he wrote something to the effect of, “The Cavs are heading into the playoffs with the best record in the league, the Indians’ season opener is this coming week, so it’s only natural that most of the reader questions in my inbox are about Brady Quinn.”
The Cavs are on pace to again finish as the #1 seed in the entire league. The Browns haven’t made the playoffs since 2002.
The Cavs boast a guy who may go down as the greatest player in the history of pro basketball. He’s in the midst of having one of the most dominant statistical seasons ever. He may be a unanimous vote for MVP this season. Meanwhile, the Browns don’t even have a legitimate starting quarterback.
Since Dan Gilbert bought the team, the Cavs have built a world-class organization full of character guys committed to winning. They make lop-sidedly positive trades, and with the exception of Larry Hughes, when they decide to spare no expense they usually get a high return on investment. The Browns have been the sports world’s most absurd game of front office musical chairs since their return in 1999. They are likely paying as many people as much money to NOT work for them as they’re paying to the staff currently on the job. And again, they’ve been to the playoffs once in the past decade.
I could go on and on with this stuff. The point is, despite this huge gap in competitiveness and intrigue, the hibernation period is over again. The Browns will now automatically jump to the #1 story position on every Cleveland media outlet. There will be more discussion over the tender given to Matt Roth than to Andy Varejao’s qualifications as Sixth Man of the Year, more interest in pre-draft workouts for cornerbacks than in who the Cavs will be set to play in the second round of the playoffs, more attention paid to any progress in Josh Cribbs’s contract renegotiation than in the return of Z, a guy whose number will hang in the rafters of the Q. It’s as disgraceful as booing the Cavs for trouncing an opponent with efficient offense and stifling defense, but falling short of the Chalupa plateau. (Granted, this hasn’t been as much of a problem this season because of the Cavs’ increased offensive production, but the point stands.)
I don’t even expect this to change if the Cavs do in fact win the NBA title this season. In my most cynical moment, I imagine people emptying off the streets during the the victory parade to mourn upon hearing the news that the Browns cut Brady Quinn—or even worse, LeBron’s re-signing in Cleveland being overshadowed by the Browns’ late acquisition of Troy Smith.
The Cavs are in the midst of another very special season. In a nightmare scenario, this could be the last time we ever see LeBron in a Cleveland uniform. Even if it’s not, he’s now entering his prime with a solid (even excellent), likable supporting cast hungry to bring home the big prize. Let’s all enjoy this. And the next time someone you know brings up Mike Holmgren, for god’s sake, tell them to kill that noise until mid-summer. We’ve got winners in town.
With the Cavs set to square off against New Jersey Wednesday night, it seemed like an appropriate time to discuss the strengths and weaknesses of that franchise’s case for LeBron.
New Jersey’s biggest advantage—and I say this with complete seriousness—is part owner Jay-Z. Without a doubt, Jay is one of LeBron’s heroes (see: substitute father figures). For proof, all you have to do is go to the Twitter feed of Roots’ mastermind Questlove and read all about Bron’s presence at the show Jay did at MSG tonight. Bron’s relationship with Mr. Carter is well-documented, it’s strong, and it’s going to continue. And you can guarantee that the main reason Jay bought into the Nets was to fulfill the goal of one day getting LeBron on that team. This is a somewhat frightening prospect because historically, Jay-Z is a guy who gets what he wants (see: record sales, pop cultural significance, Beyonce).
Incoming Nets majority owner Mikhail Prokhorov is supposed to assist in this pursuit. He’s a man with resources, to be sure. Prokhorov was #40 on Forbes’s 2009 Billionaires list with an estimated net worth of $9.5B. If you want to believe all the hype, he will be irresistible to Bron because money will be no object. This applies to both salaries for his supporting cast and any off-hours excess that we can imagine. He’s going to be a whirlwind that sweeps through the NBA and blows away every other penny-hoarding owner. The Nets, in short, will be a juggernaut that LeBron will be powerless to resist.
There are only a few small problems with this outlook.
The first of these problems is that the 2009-10 Nets are still in danger of going down in infamy as the worst team in NBA history. Today, they stand at an embarrassing 6-53. Another 4 wins are needed to put them over the 9-73 basement floor installed by the 1972-73 Sixers. Strictly based on their pace so far, it seems unlikely that this will happen.
Even more troubling for the Nets, though, is that no one in the league is able to figure out WHY they’re 6-53. After trading Vince Carter, I doubt there were many NBA speculators out there penciling the Nets into the post-season. I doubt anyone would have been terribly impressed with your fortune-telling abilities if you’d predicted that they would be in last place in the Atlantic. But to be on pace to be historically bad? That’s an entirely different story.
The Nets roster is arguably less of a wasteland than the Knicks’. (For a recap of their players and next year’s salary commitments, see Hoop Data’s feature here.) Unlike Donnie Walsh’s squad, the most promising elements of that roster are all signed for next year, with salary cap space remaining above and beyond them. Though he’s been hurt at various times throughout this year, Devin Harris was selected as an All-Star reserve last season. Brook Lopez is one of the most promising and skilled young Centers in the game right now. And I think that we all remember Courtney Lee from last year. Those three guys on their own should be able to get the Nets to at least 13 wins this season. Yet the squad isn’t even halfway there, with only 23 games left to play.
Perhaps part of this can be blamed on their coaching situation. Lawrence Frank was dismissed early in the season. Kiki Vandeweghe stepped onto the sidelines to replace him…by all accounts, against his will. Kiki (I refuse to type out “Vandeweghe” more than twice in a post, and that right there was #2) will clearly be out of the coach’s seat next season, and Prokhorov will undoubtedly bring in a big name to take over. Unless they’re indeed able to bag Coach K before free agency begins, LeBron would be given free reign to choose his own coach as a part of the Nets’ offer. So any instability attributable to Kiki will be long gone.
The question is, will it really matter? As he’s stated many times, LeBron is all about winning. I didn’t always use to believe that, but I do now. Barring a complete disaster in the playoffs, the Cavs will at least get to the Eastern Conference Finals. Assuming that level of success, they’ll have made it to the ECF or farther in 3 of the last 4 seasons. If they make it to the Finals, that will be the second time in 4 years. To go from that level of consistent success to the team that will undoubtedly finish as the worst in basketball—and possibly the worst in the NBA’s existence—would paint LeBron as the biggest hypocrite in sports history. Which is exactly why this season is such a disaster for New Jersey.
The Heat are flirting with the possibility of barely missing the playoffs in the year heading into Dwyane Wade’s free agency, but at least they’re on the doorstep and will probably end up making it in, even if it’s just for another first round exit. The Knicks are a sorry excuse for a pro basketball team, but they at least have the lure of being able to sign another max guy alongside LeBron. (Much like I’ve said about Sam Presti in the past, it’s always more advantageous to be able to sell potential for greatness than actual results.) The Nets, however, have neither of these things going for them. The best they can hope for is to sell Bron on the idea that Devin Harris when healthy is an All-Star, and Brook Lopez will be there soon.
The immediate counter-punch to this idea comes back to the record. As Mike said yesterday, it’s illogical to argue that just because Mo is widely regarded among casual fans as the second-best player on a very good team, he deserves to be an All-Star. Rod Thorn or Prokhorov would argue that it’s illogical to assume that just because the best player(s) on their roster on a very bad team, it doesn’t mean that they are NOT All-Stars. But that case could be made a lot more forcefully if the team wasn’t on its way to being the losing-est team ever. As we often say in sports, great players—and even very good ones—find ways to win in close games. If the Nets are carrying two guys on their roster that they want to pitch as once-and-future All-Stars, then those guys have to be able to will their team past that all-time worst mark. So far, that hasn’t happened. And that’s a reality that, despite all of the Russian oil money and Jay-Z love, I don’t think Bron can dismiss.
The other major disaster for the Nets is that for the foreseeable future, the location in front of their name will remain “New Jersey.” Though a ground-breaking ceremony for the forthcoming Atlantic Yards project will be held in Brooklyn this month, the Nets recently announced plans to play at least the 2010-11 and 2011-12 seasons at the Prudential Center in Newark. Ownership’s hope is to have the new arena at Atlantic Yards ready for the 2012-13 season. That may or may not happen, given the usual delays that happen in massive construction projects—even those without the type of aggressive protest movement this one has swirling around it. There’s also the potential for more trouble, given that Bruce Ratner’s real estate development company is involved in an ongoing investigation for corruption.
One thing is for sure, though: the franchise’s current situation has provided Jay and Prokhorov the opportunity to show just how convincing they can really be. Have at it, gentlemen.
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.
