Recently, this picture of Derrick Rose throwing up Gangster Disciples signs surfaced.  No one knows how old it is.  No one knows who he’s with, or why he’s throwing up signs.  However, this isn’t one of those Paul Pierce is-he-or-isn’t-he things, where we’re not sure if he’s throwing up signs.  He is.  And really, it’s not terribly surprising that something like this would happen.

It’s common knowledge that there’s a very big gang structure in Chicago, particularly on the South Side where Rose grew up.   In fact, checking back on an old Byron Crawford post, we find this:

Every single aritst, athelete and business that made it is sponsored by the gangs(mainly BD’s) and they all have to give a cut of their money. [sic]

That whole post is hearsay, obviously, but it’s certainly based in some truth.  Chicago and it’s surrounding areas are a hotbed of gang activity.  It’s a huge, huge city, so that sort of thing happens.  But it’s also a circumstance of his upbringing that Rose would be associated at all with this  sort of thing.  It’s scary and dangerous that Rose could at all be indebted to Chicago gangs, if it’s true.  But it’s also a fact of his life that he really didn’t have much choice.

Gang growth and police action pushed this stuff out to suburbs like Aurora, and even to my hometown of Plano, a place with a population of 5,000 that’s a little more than an hour south of Chicago.   My town was tiny and a week after graduation, several of the kids from my graduating class of 68 were arrested for running a gang affiliated drug ring.  If I had friends like that in a podunk town famous only for inventing the reaper, it’s not too hard to imagine that Rose’s friends could be associated with something similar but worse.

I find it hard to condemn Rose for being a 20-year old (or maybe younger) who throws up gang signs he was raised with.  We can’t know why it happened without being there.

(photo via DaBullz)

• First off, an apology to you, the reader. I was unable to provide notes after Game 2 due to pressing real life issues. I swear it was not simply me ducking the Lakers win, as I made sure to post after Game 1. Please forgive me for not posting after Game 2, but I really truly did not have the time. As for Game 3…
• Wow. I did NOT see that coming.
• Kobe Bryant clangs free throws, and then gets the ball stolen in the final possessions of the game? Really?
• Really?
• Will someone call Hell and ask if it’s a deep freeze, or just a dusting?
• Tonight was one of those nights where I sound like a moron. In the liveblogs, I noted that Rafer Alston would likely come out and burn the Magic with bad decisions. Yeah, he kind of pwned the Lakers.
• Then I mentioned how I didn’t like the Lee-on-Kobe matchup. Then the kid goes out and plays fantastic defense on him. Lee’s boxscore was quiet. His impact was not. He managed to do the impossible. He frustrated Bryant. Okay, maybe not impossible, but really really difficult.
• Oh, hey Mikael Pietrus, didn’t notice you standing there. What’s that? You just got here? Oh, good to know. Sure, make yourself at home.
• The best thing the Magic did tonight was to create different looks for getting Howard the ball. Instead of just posting him on the left block time after time after time like a broken record, they set pick and roll situations and delivered fast, hard passes inside to him. The Lakers adjusted late in the game, but by then, they were going to their other weapons enough. Howard was getting prime positioning inside.
• The Lakers held firm to the No Dunks Allowed policy, but with that kind of position, Howard got to the line which hurt the Lakers. And with Lamar Odom floating around his usual home of outer space again until the 4th quarter, that was enough for the Magic to win.
• How do you feel confident after shooting 63%, winning the rebounding battle, evening the turnover ratio, shooting 15% better from the stripe, and only winning by four?
• By “It’s the freaking Finals and a win is a win.” That’s how. Because otherwise, there’s not much to celebrate.
• And in my opinion, there’s not. For either side. There’s probably too much of a lax “Eh, they can have this one” from Lakers fans, but then, their team has been dominant all year, they’ve earned it. Both sides have held serve through three games. The Magic pushed the Lakers in Game 2, but couldn’t get it done. The Lakers pushed the Magic in Game 3 but fell apart. I’d say game 4 is pivotal, but come on. It’s the Finals. Every single game swings the momentum, according to the media. In reality, we’ll just have to see how the buckets fall.
• I actually thought the Lakers did a much better job of valuing possessions tonight. As a team. One person, on the other hand, elected to take tough shots with time left on the shot clock and forced the issue too much.
• But we won’t talk about him.
• I liked what Hedo Turkoglu did tonight. Got the step back jumper going, which sucked out the defense, which opened up the lane, which opened up the passing lanes. Hedo played very strong tonight and attacked the rim instead of opting for perimeter shots.
• As a whole, the Magic seemed to focus on that approach, pump faking and then taking confident pull-up jumpers. In Games 1 and 2, they seemed unsure. As if when they pulled up they were wondering if they should be driving and when driving wondering if they should have pulled up. Passing was crisper, and the Magic refound their stroke. It had to happen eventually. This team was not going to shoot below 30% for seven games.
• On the one hand, the Orlando crowd seemed into it from the very beginning, was loud, was together, and was intense. On the other, they needed help from the PA and one of those host guys, and did the wave. So not a flawless crowd performance. But, their identity isn’t based on famous people who haven’t watched a game all season, so they get the win.
• If you ask me who is more likely to win the series, I say Lakers, because of how well they’ve played up until tonight in the second half. But if you ask me what’s more likely, the Magic sweeping at home or the Lakers giving up one of their last two games, I think LA is slightly more likely to crumble. But that’s because they check out often mentally, and you can never predict it.
• Everyone likes to focus on how Rashard Lewis needs to go inside more. He’s big, athletic, talented, why not attack the basket? Then late in the game he drives and gets erased by Odom. Then later, he nails a step back, in your face three to seal it for the Magic. I’m just saying. I’m not going to ask Death Cab for Cutie to write an Industrial Goth Hate Anthem. I’m sure they might be able to make a pretty good one. But let’s stick with what we’re good at.
• Still waiting on Andrew Bynum to become the next great NBA center. Stiiiiiiiiil waiting.
• There was a lot of frustration for the Lakers defensively, which is kind of their MO. Good defensive things do the little things that help get you a win. The Lakers do those things. Great defensive teams also make adjustments and are able to communicate with one another to cover those adaptations. The Lakers are a good, not great defensive team. Which is fine, because they are a simply awesome offensive team.
• Mark Jackson was criticizing the Magic for their defense on Kobe Bryant in the first quarter. “You’ve got to guard him better than that.” My question? HOW?! You stay with him, keep position, don’t foul, and get a hand in his face. If he drills it? What else are you going to do?
• Courtney Lee (CLeeFree) is a balls-out man.

The NBA Finals: they aren’t just about following either The Euro, The Bro, or The Dad dress code for post game press conferences. The stage is also about individual swagger, and not many can exemplify personal swag like Lamar Odom.

For one, it’s good to blend in, Odom sporting what looks to be a standard-issue blue zip-up airport ground control suit. Also notice the carpet-matching-the-drapes bonus, with that crazy dressin’ old dude being the carpet. It’s like he reserved a front row seat and sat down right before Lamar started speaking specifically to blend in.

L.A. is a sex-pot town, and everything must be done in a fabulous manner. Notice here how Lamar saunters up to the water being given to him while seductively staring the cup down.

When Gloria Clemente said something about quenching thirst in White Men Can’t Jump, Odom took note. He didn’t want a glass of water, although more than happy to take it, he would have rather the water guy understand the concept of dry-mouthedness.

And for the Magic … Curse of Nick Anderson? … no such thing.

Dwight Howard and Co. had their heads in La-La Land with Jack, Denzel, and the like.
Super Jesus opted for additional stage time to express his monologue to the refs….
worrying about the game would have been a better option.

The guy who wrote this also has a blog about the Washington Wizards, Truth About It.net.
Sad. He knows.

It’s easy to paint alternate realities after a close game, especially one ripe with the gravitas of the Finals.  This is it, cats and kittens; this is the big show, the real deal, the birthplace of legends, Jordan’s playhouse.  And as such, plays ranging from a lazy entry pass to slightly off game-changing layups carry more weight than any play ever should.  There’s certainly a tendency among fans to revisit those moments, and I wouldn’t dare to deny you, dear reader, that privilege on this noble blog.

Courtney Lee’s missed layup is an obvious starting point.  Regulation finales are rarely more heartbreaking.  At the time, I felt like I was denied simply a miraculous finish on a beautifully drawn play, but the full range of implications really surfaced following the Magic’s overtime loss.  To be honest, I won’t lose any sleep if the Magic lose this series.  Not a wink.  It would just be the way of the world, and whether or not the Lakers or Magic are holding a trophy would hardly affect my mood.  That’s why, when I express my disappointment over Lee’s layup, it’s not in the name of some sudden die-hard fandom or rabid anti-Laker sentiment.  The play that Stan Van Gundy drew up to win the game was not only creative, but it was the antithesis of an end-of-game play.  Courtney Lee was quite literally the last option in my mind.  I figured a Dwight oop could be in the works, as well as a quick look for either ‘Shard or Hedo.  And, in the back of my mind, a surprise corner three for Redick seemed in the realm of possibility.  There is a reason why Courtney Lee, a rookie shooting guard who has not played well in this series, mind you, was taking the last shot on a wide open alley-oop layup despite the fact that I’m sure many, myself included, didn’t even consider that as an option.  When you see something unexpected in the NBA, it’s almost always a display of unearthly athleticism or a circus shot straight out the world’s most epic game of H-O-R-S-E.  Rarely do we have a play so obvious and so isolated that demonstrates not merely the execution of the players, but the genius of a coach and the execution of his concepts.

That last play wasn’t about Courtney Lee winning the game so much as it was about Stan Van Gundy winning it.  It just wasn’t in the cards.  Lee’s uncontested run to the rim, Rashard Lewis’ pick on Kobe, all the interference from the other Magic players, and ultimately Hedo’s lob — those were all well-executed components on a bold, unconventional play call.  Does Phil Jackson make that same call, or do the Lakers inevitably settle for a Kobe turnaround fadeaway?  Being a coach is many things: part babysitter, part mathematician, part chef, and part elementary school teacher.  There are so many roles that a coach is asked to fill, and so many dimensions in which a coach can succeed or fail.  That’s why comparing Phil or Popovich or Red almost always comes down to a jewelry debate; there are so many ways that coaches impact the product on the court that are simply behind closed doors or insulated by poor (or superb) execution.  What I do know is this: if I’m given one play and one clipboard with the fate of the universe hanging in the balance, Stan Van Gundy might get the call.  He’s demanding, he’s sometimes petty or childish, and he’s hardly charismatic, but he may be the most talented in-game coach we have in the league today.  If Lee hits that layup, today would be SVG Appreciation Day, and since he didn’t, I’m here to make it just that anyway.

Changing directions a bit, there was another point of divergence in the game’s destiny, and it happened to take place just moments before Lee’s look at a victory.  Kobe Bryant, ball in hand, had the Magic on the run, pushing up court as the final ticks were almost sure to accompany a classic Kobe finish.  It just seemed like one of those times, to cap off a pretty awesome game from Bryant.  As he attacked and left his defender, Hedo Turkoglu, in his wake, I saw visions of the end.  I saw a series in the balance.  I saw Kobe adding another trophy of a beaten defender to his wall, the pride and joy of a big game hunter.  But as Kobe elevated in the face of the Magic’s help D, a funny thing happened.  He didn’t even have the chance to throw in a rainbow above the outstretched arms in front of him.  Hedo had recovered, storming Bryant from behind and swiping the ball from his hands.  That was a moment of excellence and a moment of renewed hope, and it’s all we can ask from the Magic in the rest of this series.

Some are of the opinion that the title is already won, and they’re entitled.  But Orlando showed in Game 2 that they have the ability to recover after being beaten.  If they can swipe Game 3 from behind, this may yet be a series worth noting.  The Magic still have a lot to work with for a team down 0-2, and some of the credit for that goes to Hedo and his save.  The fact that Orlando drowned in its cess pool of turnovers would be all that remains of a pretty fun Magic team.  But they’re alive (though not well) because of the fight they showed in Game 2.  It would be misguided to say that what we saw last night was the beginning of a real push for the Magic, but it was definitely a step up from the romp in Game 1.  It’s an odd air surrounding a team that almost certainly coughed up a win, which is probably fitting for a Magic team that is nothing if not odd.

• That’s the best game I’ve ever seen from Kobe Bryant. That amazing passer, the brilliant shooter, the elite competitor, the terrific defender, everything. He was smarter than his defenders, quicker than his defenders, more powerful than his defenders, and when they managed to stay with him, he just hit the shot anyway. He hit shots with contact, worked out of the double team, his passes were right on target, and he gave everyone what they wanted. A virtuoso performance that makes him look like the best player in the world again. ABC Execs are happy, ESPN producers are happy, bandwagon fans across the country are happy, it’s more interesting than the Magic winning, and Jackson looks like a genius again. It’s a win for everyone but the Magic and small market fans.
• You’re going to hear the “Die by the three” stuff. Don’t buy into it. That assumes the Magic would have cooled off anyway, and does a disservice to the Lakers defense.
• The Lakers used the paint as a headquarters. They centered there, and used it to spring out on passers, to disrupt passing lanes, to close out on shooters, and it was incredibly effective. Great defensive gameplan by Phil Jackson.
• Dwight Howard didn’t attack the basket, and when he did, the refs let ‘em play. They let ‘em play at the other end, so you can’t blame the officials. He was completely ineffective.
• Usually either Turkoglu or Lewis play well for three quarters, then the other one takes over in the fourth. The Lakers shut them both down. They made Lewis play his position, power forward, and just beat him down.
• Courtney Lee is going to have a great career. But putting him against Bryant was too much, too soon.
• Luke Walton was supposed to be the Lakers weak link off the bench. He was superior to everyone on the Magic. Great defense, got buckets, made smart plays, completely terrific on both ends of the floor.
• If LA plays like this for four games? It’s broom time.
• I took Orlando in seven over at FanHouse because I’d ridden the Magic all playoffs, and I took them in seven because of how great I knew the Lakers could be when they tried. The more I’ve thought about it, the more a Lakers sweep seemed like a possibility. Like, in the Conference Finals, I knew a Cleveland sweep was impossible because of how good Orlando is. But maybe Orlando’s just not as good as the Lakers. I know it’s just one game. But that was about as dominating as it gets. This is what I feared all year. I had anxiety in November about the Lakers removing the element of surprise. well, they teased a surprise with their earlier failures. And perhaps now is when they prove they are a great team. Maybe now is when Kobe takes his place, finally, where Lakers fans feel he is. Maybe now is where Orlando is revealed as a fraud. I don’t want to think that, especially after one game, but the regular season, the matchup advantages, and Kobe freaking Bryant scare me otherwise.
• I mean, don’t get me wrong, Orlando had a bad night. Even when the Lakers defense wasn’t great, they just didn’t shoot well. LA shook their confidence, and that affected everything they did.
• Hey, good news. The small market team got wiped off the map. So we don’t have that terrible story to deal with. Sigh.
• Jameer Nelson played really well for his first game in four months. Not bad at all. Certainly better than Rafer. Nice to see you, Rafe. Here are the knives you stuck in your team’s back. They had some rust on them since you’ve been helpful for three weeks. Might want to clean that off.
• In a season when realistically, the Lakers were the best team all season, downing Boston and Cleveland with little resistance, wouldn’t it be just like them to rob us of a compelling Finals series after a terrific playoffs? From Boston-Chicago to LA-Houston to Boston-Orlando and the ECF, it’s been lots of fun. But the story might just be “Kobe Freaking Bryant.”
• By the way, SVG got worked by Phil.
• Battie for so many minutes? Why? For what purpose? To what end?
• Meanwhile, Phil used his bigs in good rhythm, managed an effective defense, created a great offensive flow, and had answers for everything.
• What’s the point?

Any Finals series brings about all kinds of talk regarding legacies.  Who will redeem themselves?  Who will be the victim of history’s indiscriminate blade, capable of cutting down All-Time Greats into all-time chokers?  The league’s biggest stage and its brightest lights encourage us to debate the who’s who of the NBA, both in regard to the current landscape and the shape of things past.

For a variety of reasons, using this framework to discuss (and by discuss I generally mean yell, scream, fight, argue, impale, etc.) Kobe Bryant is especially appealing to us.  Love him or hate him, yada yada yada.  He’s just a polarizing dude.  If Jordan’s proper place is on a pedestal and LeBron’s is on a throne, then Kobe feels most natural on a barstool.  Not that Bryant perfectly epitomizes the common man, but he has managed to work his way into the league’s highest position of interest.  Not rocket science, I know.  But Kobe’s status as a player of intrigue is a bit pertinent these days in determining where he stands in the context of league history.

If Kobe wins the title, it’s not so much an affirmation of Kobe’s trials as it is a fitting climax.  Even subsequent championships would lack the same luster, the long awaited sigh of relief.  The remainder of Kobe’s career would be the falling action, afterthoughts to resolve the loose ends of a dream fulfilled.  Roll credits, end scene, fin.  The real, emotionally satisfying end will already have been achieved, and all we’ll be treated to is the last five minutes of Return of the King all over again: a series of natural conclusions that only serve to nullify the impacts of the true climax and ending.

On the other hand, if Kobe falls short, the rise lives on.  The tension builds and builds until Kobe wins by his own power or retires, but our interest in Kobe’s narrative lives on.  Considering LeBron is merely strolling along his predetermined course for greatness, the NBA and its fans need Kobe’s tale of tragedy and redemption to live, lest it give way to the air of inevitability surrounding the league’s fortunate son.  How sick is that?  Even when Kobe’s dream lives on, LeBron finds a way to fit into the conversation from his couch at home.  LeBron’s style is a welcome counter to Kobe’s, just as Kobe’s narrative is a welcome counter to LeBron’s.  We need the tension that Kobe brings because we despise the neat and tidy, and though we claim to value greatness and closure, we lust for loose ends.  Loose ends that bring instand satisfaction and disappointment the moment they are resolved.  LeBron, on his current course, will never be able to give us that.

As observers with no stake in either team (other than everyone generally loving the underdog Magic and thinking Kobe is capable of being a douche), should we want Kobe’s journey to take him toward a sudden but concrete conclusion?  Or to have his entire legacy (whatever that word has come to mean) hang in the balance as time ticks by?  I, for one, am not quite ready to say goodbye to our current story arc.  There’s a time for that finale, and I can only hope that 2009 isn’t it.

Srsly guyz, lissen up. Iz all true.

So I jump ship in Hong Kong and make my way over to Tibet, and I get on as a looper at a course over in the Himalayas. A looper, you know, a caddy, a looper, a jock. So, I tell them I’m a pro jock, and who do you think they give me? The Dalai Lama, himself. Twelfth son of the Lama. The flowing robes, the grace, bald… striking. So, I’m on the first tee with him. I give him the driver. He hauls off and whacks one – big hitter, the Lama – long, into a ten-thousand foot crevasse, right at the base of this glacier. Do you know what the Lama says? Gunga galunga… gunga, gunga-galunga. So we finish the 18th and he’s gonna stiff me. And I say, “Hey, Lama, hey, how about a little something, you know, for the effort, you know.” And he says, “Oh, uh, there won’t be any money, but when you die, on your deathbed, you will receive total consciousness.” So I got that goin’ for me, which is nice.

Also, do either of you guys have any idea how I can guard Hedo or Rashard? Cause I sure don’t. In fact, the deeper into the lineups the Finals go, the worse it looks for us. And, Dwight Howard is enormous. I dislike that.

Have you seen my dad? No? Cool, thanks for looking. Anyone seen my kitten? Hey, why are the Magic shooting 48% from 3? Is weird, right?

Among the many reasons the Magic were able to defeat the Cavaliers was the simple fact that they match up so well against them. Orlando’s style and personnel was the right combination for beating a team that was so dominant in the regular season. This was manifested in the season results between the two teams. Similarly, Orlando was 2-0 against the Lakers. Does that mean we should pencil them in for the championship? How much do matchups matter and how important are prior regular season results?

To answer these questions, I first collected some data on every playoff series from the past three years. For each series, I recorded the difference in the seeds (a 1-8 matchup would have a difference of 7), the result of the regular season series, and the result of the playoff series. I then ran two regressions: one on the relationship between the seed difference and the playoff result, and one on the relationship between the season result and the playoff result. Below I’ve posted the two graphs:

In the first graph, the seed differential is on the x-axis and the playoff result is on the y-axis. In the second graph, the season result is on the x-axis and the playoff result is on the y-axis. In both of the charts, the season and playoff results are quantified on a -4 to 4 scale. A 4 would mean that the favorite won four more games than the underdog (a 4-0 sweep), and a -4 would mean the opposite.

There are a couple of interesting observations. The team that won the regular season matchup failed to win the playoff series in just four of the 44 series that took place over the last 3 years (there are a few regular season ties). This is indicated by points in the top left or bottom right quadrant of the second graph.

As we can see, there were seven instances when the underdog won the regular season series (indicated by the seven points to the left of the y-axis; some are hidden because there are doubles). Five of those times, the underdog pulled off the upset.

If we compare the R^2’s of the two graphs, we see that season results are actually a slightly better predictor of how a playoff series will go than the difference in the seeds is. Of course, both of the R^2’s are very low and the difference is quite negligible. But the point still stands: if you want to predict how a playoff series will turn out, you’re slightly better off if you go through the teams’ previous matchups that year than if you just look at how different their seeds are.

I should end this article with a few notes of caution. First, there are plenty exceptions to the rule. Second, everything must always be taken in context. Regular season results could be skewed by injuries or odd circumstances.

Personally, I think Orlando will win the Finals in seven games.

Kurt Helin hangs on. For the record, none of our active participants selected the Magic. Not one. If only I had both used the stats system I devised (which sucks, by the way, thanks for asking), and my own intuition. Then I would be… still way, way, way behind because I picked the freaking Mavericks over at FanHouse. But still!

Anywho, Helin’s still killing it, Mahoney’s climbing, and we’re outdoing most of the Geeks. BOOYAH!

I should have been the one to break this story. But NOOOO. I had to be busy with my day job, cooking dinner with my girlfriend, volunteer work for charity, visiting my sick parents, dogsitting for friends and helping in neighborhood beautification projects to give my utmost and my highest for HP.

So, this is my apology, dear readers. When something this historic is upon us, I seem to have let these other trivial matters distract me from my mission to provide you, the blogosphere, with the most important and critical observations concerning the most important thing on this planet, The NBA Finals!

When two ethereal, nebulous supernovas such as J.J. Redick and Adam Morrison clash in the ultimate showdown of the 2008-09 basketball season, after a lifetime a few years of being inextricably linked by skill, will and significance, I should be the one reporting on the story. Not finding links to it with a mere 50+ hours left before the series tip off. So please forgive me, HP Heads, I promise to perform better in the future. (Ed. note: I use this line in lots of scenarios. Rarely does it hold up, FYI).

OMG Double Clothesline! THWAPPOW!

Hat Tip: Elites TV