LaMarcus Aldridge’s rise to borderline franchise player status was one of the most pleasant surprises in the NBA last season. It’s virtually impossible to be a non-biased NBA fan without enjoying the Portland Trailblazers of the post-Jail era, and yet the sympathetic squad has suffered blow after blow, rendering its considerable talents moot under a heap of shattered knees. Watching a part of that once-and-hopefully-still-promising nucleus leap forward was roundball eye candy. LMA wasn’t rewarded with an all-star berth, but we all knew better: after years of saying how he can be a star, now he actually was one.

Over at ESPN (Insider required), Tom Haberstroh takes things one step further, claiming Aldridge is on his way to become the league’s new best 4, and even comparing him to the immortal Tim Duncan.

But the biggest reason that Aldridge fits as a Duncan successor is actually more subtle than his shot repertoire, and you won’t catch it in the box score. Like Duncan, Aldridge is now a two-way player who’s capable of dominating the game on both ends of the floor. This is where Aldridge separates himself from the likes of Amar’e Stoudemire and Chris Bosh when we’re talking about the next great power forward.

Back in April, I developed a quick metric that combined three of the most rigorous defensive measures out there and published a handful of the more interesting findings at Insider. One of the big discoveries? Aldridge is right up there with Duncan and Kevin Garnett as 4s who can bring it on both ends.

via NBA – Comparing LaMarcus Aldridge to Tim Duncan – ESPN.

The Duncan comparisons are probably a step too far – Timmy was more or less a first-ballot Hall of Famer from the first second he stepped on an NBA court, and Habertroh also points out how Aldridge’s rather average rebounding is a far cry from Duncan’s legendary abilities on the glass. But the point that Haberstroh continually makes is that in the power forward generation that comes after Duncan and Garnett, Aldridge is more or less in a class of his own defensively.

It’s hard for me to judge whether Aldridge is indeed the best defensive 4 out there – the rebounding is a major disadvantage when compared to a versatile big such as Pau Gasol or even a clearly inferior defender in Zach Randolph; Chris Bosh has a bad rep because of years spent on terrible Raptor teams, but he was a huge part of a dominant Miami defense this past season and he ranked as the 4^th best pick and roll “roll man” defender according to Synergy Sports; but as Haberstroh points out, the +/- numbers favor Aldridge conclusively. He’s improved his shot-blocking skills considerably, he’s quick laterally and vertically, and he’s become so adept at defending inside that he may be better suited as a center long term.

But more than it was eye-opening, I found the Haberstroh piece thought-provoking. Could Aldridge really be the world’s best 4 at some point? What was his competition?

Duncan and Garnett probably have 2-3 seasons at most before they call it a career. Dirk and Pau are the current golden standard, but as age-resistant as Dirk’s game seems to be, they’re both on the wrong end of 30 as well. Health permitting, Amar’e Stoudemire should be peaking as part of a New York superstar tandem in the upcoming years, but his defensive ineptitude is probably severe enough to rank him below Aldridge even now. Carlos Boozer is even worse defensively, and not as good on offense. David West is 31 and coming off major surgery. Lamar Odom? David Lee? Al Jefferson? Paul Millsap? Varying levels of good, but not at that level.

Chris Bosh is mightily close, and I can’t honestly say I’d rather have Aldridge over him; his numbers dropped in Miami, but he’s also one year removed from posting the 4^th best PER in the league. But in accepting a third string role, Bosh penalizes himself not because he’s a loser or a coward, but by limiting his chances to prove himself. Assuming both Bosh and Aldridge play to the fullest of their abilities in the next few years, Aldridge will at the very least seem more impressive, just by virtue of being the primary focus of each opposing team.

Similarly, Zach Randolph’s playoff performance has, on paper, lifted his stock to new heights. Except for the aforementioned Dirk, I’m not sure there are a surer two points in crunch time than Z-Bo’s rear end forcefully finding that post sweet spot. Randolph lacks the lateral quickness to be an all-present defender, but has improved dramatically in this regard since his Knick/Clipper days.

And then we have the next generation. Blake Griffin and his seemingly limitless ceiling. Kevin Love, despite the saloon door defense. Serge Ibaka, who has improved so rapidly in just two NBA seasons that nobody truly knows how much further he can go. Al Horford, if he ever gets to play his natural 4 position, is as good defensively as anybody on this list, and can still improve offensively, where he is already a great passer and a dead-eye midrange shooter. Depending on how optimistic you are, Derrick Favors, Ed Davis, Bismack Biyombo, Tristan Thompson – all players with long ways to go, of course, but hey, we can dream, right?

Look how many names I just listed. Sure, I was overly generous with some of our best-PF-alive “candidates”. But the sheer volume is simply astounding, is it not?

Ever since the new hand check rules entered the NBA, perimeter players have enjoyed a built-in advantage. Getting into the paint is a much easier task when the pesky defender trying to front you can’t place his arm on your hip as a means of obstructing your movement. With the past few years being blessed by a litany of talented point guards, the perimeterization of the game has sped up considerably, leading to a golden age of point guards.

And yet, the power forward position is full to the brim with talent. The revolution brought in by Garnett’s entrance to the league, in which big guys are now allowed to do things like set up an offense and defend 5 positions, has produced a talent boon that comes in sharp contrast to the death of the true NBA center. We lament what happened to our big men, but the answer is that where a physical specimen would formerly become a post beast, nowadays he will prefer to keep his lanky frame, learn how to shoot from 18 feet in, and work on his dribble.

To some, this is an atrocity, the loss of an art. But that’s a sad way to look at things. Some of the most entertaining pairs of the last 20 years consist of a point guard and a power forward. Stockton-Malone, Payton-Kemp, Nash-Stoudemire/Nowitzki, Sessions-Hickson (just checking if you’re still reading). We sure have the point guards – and the power forwards are here, too.

During the lockout, fans have been forced to get their necessary basketball fix from various semi-pro summer leagues and random pickup games. While some have found themselves discontent with a game replete of structure, defense, or strategy, others have reveled in the substance and style of the incredible individual skill. Off the back board alley oops, crazy dunks, and 60 points scoring efforts have replaced the knock down, grind out games that can often become the norm during the NBA playoffs. More importantly, the game’s most complex, beautiful, intricate, and improvisational skill has been readily on display. Summer shootouts have provided a stage for some of the leagues best ball-handlers. Whether it’s Brandon Jennings crossing over back-and-forth, back-and-forth, until the defender has lost all sense of direction, or Chris Paul making Kevin Durant look silly, these summer league games have given us a look at some of the black top flair and bravado that attracts so many fans.

Yes, basketball is a team game. But great ball movement and team defense don’t seem to call out that instinctive, uncontrollable “OHHHHHHHHH” that comes after every ankle-breaking move. It’s dominance coupled with artistic expression, in your face swagger imbued with subtle refinement. Here we celebrate and examine some of the most memorable and awe-inspiring moves from those that have left their imprint on fans, the league, and basketball history.

Baron Davis’ Fake Behind The Back Pass

There’s nothing incredibly complex about this move. Anyone with a good handle can pull it off, but the move itself is a crafty deviation of similar dribble fakes that came before it. We’d seen the behind the back dribble, the fake around the back pass (a move Rajon Rondo has recently made popular again) and the behind the back gather. What Baron gave us was a mixture of all three. Here he comes, leading a two on one break with a defender in the middle of the floor. Just after mid-court he swings his body and arm to create an angle that resembles the movement of an around the back pass. Then just as the defender believes he has read the play correctly, Davis whips the ball back around his body, leaving the unsuspecting opponent stumbling, dumbfounded by this playful piece of trickery. The entire arena goes nuts simultaneously totally aware and unable to comprehend what has just transpired. Davis is giddy, delighted to have provided his present company with an unforgettable highlight.

Jamal Crawford’s Shake N’ Bake

Jamal Crawford posses some of the greatest YouTube ball handling highlights the league has ever seen. He has one of the best crossovers in the league (if you don’t believe me, just ask Ray Allen), and has crafted a signature move that is as deadly as it is unique. The Shake N’ Bake is extremely difficult to execute correctly. The timing and footwork requires countless hours of practice and incredible coordination. The ease with which Crawford performs this juke is astounding. Initially at full sprint, he can settle in with a quick stutter, perform a short behind the back dribble, and then explode in the other direction with a hop step. It’s a smooth, even graceful experience to watch Crawford put it around his back as he bounds away from his defender. There’s something calming and comforting in this series of fakes that betrays the frustration and unpredictability that belies Crawford’s game.

The Shammgod

Thanks to @joetothemo for suggesting this one.

A ball handling (Shamm) God. A man that possessed the most unique, audacious, and absurd crossover the game has ever seen. The entire process overflowed with bravado, oozed confidence. It was a move that quite simply said “Here’s me making a fool out of you.” He casually makes his way to the right wing then pushes the ball out to the right, in front of the defenders face, as if to say “take it, it’s yours”, and then, just at the last second, Shammgod reaches across with his left hand and sweeps the ball across his body, leaving the defender utterly perplexed. The ball had been right in front of him. A second later, it was in some other place entirely. Shammgod believed he was the best ball handler to ever play the game, and this crossover was his rightful claim to the throne.

Chris Paul’s In-N-Out Spin Move

The in-and-out into a spin move is something we’ve seen before. It’s not inherently unique to Paul yet he finds a way to make it his own. The way he seamlessly incorporates the movements is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. His spin move is so good it almost feels as though he invented it, or at the very least re-defined it. I remember back in 2005 , Chris Paul was in Portland to work out for the Blazers before the draft. He happened to be at a local gym playing pick up basketball against ex-pros and college players. As people throughout the gym realized he was in the game, a crowd started to form around his court. I distinctly recall Paul busting out this exact combination of dribbles and fakes. I immediately turned to a friend and both of us had this look on our face like “HOLY S*** ”. I knew then (or at least I’d like to pretend I did) that Paul would be a special player in the league. No one before or since has handled the ball quite like CP3. It’s hard to call what he does dribbling, it’s something different. It comes far too easy to him. It’s intrinsic, god-given, and incredibly awesome to watch.

I’m not really sure what to say in this space. And that has become a feeling both familiar and disorienting. You see–stupid as it sounds–the existence of basketball has come to justify my own existence. A lockout means, uh. Hm. Ummm… 

from HoopSpeak: To Fellow Lost Bloggers 

This feeling just keeps getting weirder, doesn’t it? Every day, the process of finding some kind of indicative reveal or story in the barren NBA landscape is reminiscent to searching for your favorite penny in the couch. It isn’t fun, it isn’t easy, and nothing is clear. We search for answers constantly, and all we get is a barrage of semi-hopeful or semi-depressing press releases.

Can anyone tell me the date? Time moves slower during the lockout, doesn’t it? I can’t be sure because the NBA owners and players often don’t seem to have a sense of time. They malign the other side and wax philosophically, but it’s all a slow moving barge on the way to a dull and unappealing landfill.

I wrote about the onset of this feeling a couple of months ago as the lockout began, and the feeling’s only stagnated and clung with time. I don’t expect the NBA to lose a full season, but there ‘s no assurance to be had. When I mention “assurance”, I’m not looking for some magical assurance for myself. I’m not hoping that I’ll get a call from David Stern tomorrow telling me everything’s going to be all right, that a resolution is just around the corner. What I’m really looking for is some kind of collective reassurance, a reassurance that I know isn’t attainable. The majority of the articles I read, the tweets I notice, the things people tell me in real life mostly lead me to the same logical, saddening conclusions. But the fan inside me rejects the rational in a time of confusing NBA behavior. I should be optimistically anticipating the best for my team. We all should be doing that. Instead, we’re left to ponder the cold rationality that reality pushed us towards virtually every day during this lockout.

The socially aware hoops blogger knows better than to shriek, “What about us!?” but that’s certainly a reasonable way to feel. 

Ethan’s right, of course. NBA employees, stadium workers, and others involved in the NBA industry deserve much more sympathy than we do as fans and bloggers. Many of those working in these fields have had their livelihoods temporarily (and for how long?) put on hold. As fans, we can feel that sympathy and integrate into our own lockout view from afar, but the personal toll, however slight in the grand scheme of life, still feels very real to us.

The enthusiasm of fans is what powers the beautiful NBA machine, what creates the narratives that drive the league. These narratives aren’t always well-considered or accurate, but they fuel interest in a way that makes things endlessly interesting for fans. There’s always something to shill about, whether it’s the seeming fulfillment of Dirk’s long and difficult journey or the emergence of Blake Griffin into the hearts and abrupt screams of NBA fans everywhere. We love the story lines. It fuels our beliefs, passion, and ideas about the game itself. As long as the NBA is in full season swing or close to it (and it always feels like one of the two), that passion can be generated consistently by our enthusiasm. In a world where the nature of the only story lines is nebulous and unsure, that enthusiasm slowly wanes and waits.

How long can that enthusiasm sustain itself before some of it (enthusiasm which fueled a league growing in popularity and full of marketable stars and stories only one year ago) begins to dissipate amongst a select number of fans and bloggers? The majority of fans will stick around for the game they love, no matter how long the lockout lasts (Which won’t be more than a year, right?), but the seemingly burgeoning nature of the league could be threatened and stunted. The frantic energy of the league will be sapped temporarily, energy which isn’t easily returned back to its peak.

No one can be sure when the NBA will return. This could all be an exercise in futility, and the league could return before a true lockout ever begins, or at least for a shortened season. The sentiment of uncertainty continues to prevail over everything else in the psyche of fans. We center around ourselves around the assuredness of knowledge, but NBA fans only have the future in sight now, and that future currently lies without assuredness. I hope enthusiasm isn’t the next thing to leave.

 

Shout-out to @Seth_Ball for the beautiful illustration. 

Note: This entire article is completely fictional.

 

This wasn’t an interview that Hardwood Paroxysm set out to do. When Handsome Harry “Handles” Hanson found out that HP was profiling some of the league’s noted dribblers this week, he immediately sought to contact us. I received the following email from Mr. Hanson:

 

Dear Blogger Person, 

I was recently surfing the World Wide Web on my computer when I noticed several articles on your site that focused on the so-called “great dribblers”. I searched through the articles frantically for some mention of me, the world’s first great basketball dribbler, but there wasn’t a thing. Well, that doesn’t sit well with me, Handsome Harry Handles. Considering I ‘m a pioneer of many of the dribbling moves now popular in the NBA, I would very much like to be part of your blog series. I expect your response soon. 

Sincerely, 

Handsome Harry “Handles” Hanson, Basketball Pioneer.

P.S. I have attempted to make this article as polite as possible, but know that I am greatly disappointed in all of you and even threw a vase because of it.

P.P.S. I have also placed “Basketball Pioneer” as my title, lest you forget my place in history once again.

 

Upon receiving this email, my mind raced with questions. Who was Handsome Harry “Handles” Hanson? Was he really the legendary dribbler he claimed to be? Did he really break a vase? How did he feel about the way Lost ended? I was determined to find answers, so I scheduled an interview with Mr. Hanson immediately. What follows is the complete and unedited transcript of my interview.

 

Hardwood Paroxysm (Connor Huchton): So, Mr. Hanson, tell me a little bit about yourself.

Handsome Harry Hanson: Please, call me Handsome Harry Handles. I was born in Boulder, Colorado. The year was 1933. When I turned three, I picked up a basketball for the first time. The rest is dribbling history.

HP: If you don’t mind me asking, how come I’ve never read about you in historical basketball pieces?

HHH: Oh, I’m there, son. You’re just not looking in the right places.

HP: What led you to become such an innovative dribbler?

HHH: It’s just in my nature. Let me tell you a story about Handsome Harry Handles. When I was 13 years old, I went out for my high school basketball team. When I got to the tryouts, guess what they told me? They said “Kid, you’re not even enrolled in high school. You’re in 8th grade, Harry. Come back next year.” And do you know what I said to them? “I know I can do it, and you can’t stop me.” Every day, I would just run in the middle of the team’s practice, dribbling circles around the other players as the coaches blew their whistles at me.

HP: Did that impress the coaches?

HHH: I never did end up making the team, but you better believe I made an impression.

HP: If you never managed to make your high school team, how’d you break into the next level of basketball?

HHH: After I graduated, I knew there was nothing that could stop me from joining the P.R.O.S.

HP: You mean the NBA?

HHH: No, of course not. I mean the P.R.O.S, the Players with Ridiculously Odd Skills league. You ever seen that movie League of Extraordinary Gentlemen?

HP: Yes.

HHH: It was like that, but basketball.

HP: Can you tell me more about P.R.O.S?

HHH: Well, we were a group of ambitious basketball innovators who assembled at the YMCA every week. The Y stands would usually be filled to the brim during our games. Literally tens of people showed up on some nights. Most of them were just kids there for their stupid team’s basketball practice, but we didn’t care. There was me, dribbling my heart out, creating new moves every day. There was Danny Dunker (he loved donuts, too) pioneering the way a ball was slammed into a hoop. We were just ten unemployed guys, but boy, did we have a dream.

HP: You’ve referenced your invention of several dribbling moves now. Can you explain to me what some of those were?

HHH: Sure, Handles never forgets his craft. Well, there was the crossover, of course.

HP: You invented the crossover?

HHH: That’s what they say. I never saw anyone else do it before that day in the gym, the day where I finally realized I could switch the ball between my hands in one simple motion. You should have heard the gasp of the crowd as I ran past Fade-Away Frank during a game. I’ll never forget that.

HP: Any other moves you’d like to claim as your own?

HHH: You better believe there is. I created the between-the-legs dribble, the behind-the-back dribble, you name it. I even was the first one to try out the crossover fake. Those are just the ones you’ve heard of, though. There were countless others.

HP: Like what?

HHH: The shoe dribble was my favorite one. I would wear these shoes that were really bouncy, you know, look the defender straight in the eye, and just through the ball with all of my might at my own foot. Next thing you know, I’m flying by Passing Pete and on my way to YMCA glory. Of course, the jealous commissioner of P.R.O.S, Inefficient Ian, outlawed the move eventually. Called it “traveling”, but I knew better. There was another move I loved too…what was it called..The Chest Dribble! Yeah, that was a great one, whether or not it was “dangerous”.

HP: What do you mean by “The Chest Dribble“?

HHH: What does it sound like? I took the ball, dribbled up to the defender, and threw it as hard as I could right at his chest. One second we’re just playing a normal game of basketball, and the next second I’m running at someone with a basketball and a crazy look in my eyes. People don’t want to defend you when you might dribble-throw the ball off of their sternum, you know what I mean? Of course, Ian didn’t like that, so it was outlawed too. I mean, I know it was “dangerous”, but it worked. Oh, well. The crossover lives on.

HP: What happened to the league?

HHH: Well, after decades of playing, we were absorbed into the NBA as our own franchise. We had recruited new, younger players to the league by then. When I got to the NBA and told them I could still play, they laughed in my face. They told me that a 5’8, 50 year-old man couldn’t play professional basketball. But I showed them. Right then and there, I used the old Chest Dribble move to show them that I meant business. They acted like they didn’t like the move when they had recovered, but I knew they just didn’t understand.

HP: So what have you been doing all these years?

HHH: Teaching, mostly. I got a management position at the Y, and I spend most of my time teaching my special crossover (a move that spread like wildfire all the way to the NBA) to kids at the Y. When they ask me about myself, I tell them the truth. “I’m the greatest dribbler that ever lived,” I say, “And don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise.”

HP: One last question, Harry. Is there anyway I can corroborate your story with others?

HHH: Sure there is, son. Just ask around. Someone will know Handsome Harry Handles. And if you can’t find someone to talk to, just watch a game of basketball. If you see someone do a crossover or dribble between the legs, they know about me. They just haven’t realized it yet.