I can see clearly now, the rain is gone. The lockout has lifted, we have a season, can I get an Amen? (Amen.) And in the spirit of renewal, our shiny new cadre of writers is putting together previews for all 30 teams in true HP style. From where teams are going to what their disgrace is to explorations of pop culture, we are about to rock, salute us, can I get an Amen? (Amen.) So sit back, relax, and ponder the awesomeness of this fully operational Hardwood Paroxysm 3.0. -Ed.

QUO VADIMUS (WHERE ARE WE GOING?)

by Amin Vafa

Well, Cavs, where are you going? There are three choices here: Up, down, and stasis. Although fanbases tend to enjoy progress (or, “Up”), it is definitely in the best interests of this organization to go down or stay in place. The Cavs will most certainly be in the lottery next season, and although this draft class is said to be deeper than most, the Cavs should do their best to ensure they are picking in the top 5, if not the top 3, since they’ve got some pretty sizable holes to fill on their roster. How do they fill those holes? Well for one, they need to stink. Now, they don’t need to be putrid, but they just need to be bad enough to lose most of their games. Fans don’t want to see their team get embarrassed, but I think a gut-punch loss every now and then would be tolerable as long as there is an inkling of development from Irving and Thompson. If at season’s end the future looks bright with those two AND the team is headed to the lottery, the season will have been a success. Another way they ensure picking in the lottery is ridding themselves of any remaining assets--namely Andersen Varejao. As a Cavs fan, I love Andy. But by the time this team is good again, Andy’s not going to have any value. This offseason saw many teams vying after bigs, but very few teams being fulfilled. Andy needs to be flipped for some cap space, developing studs, draft picks, or any combination thereof. With Jamison’s contract expiring, this team needs to make sure it can pair that space with assets and picks so the Cavs can move forward. And so that Cleveland can move on.

WHO WANTS TO START A CULT ABOUT

Antawn Jamison! (?) Why? Because it’s about damn time people started cults for nice guys. Didn’t you know? Jamison’s a nice guy. He’s a consummate professional, and a real nice guy. He’s nice to everyone in the locker room. And he’s nice to reporters. And he’s nice to fans, and teammates, and opponents. Really nice. Super nice. He’s got this nice scoop shot, and shoots a nice percentage from 3 for a guy who’s a nice 6’9″. But yeah, he’s nice, so wouldn’t it be nice to worship him? So, so nice. So nice, in fact, he has absolutely zero time to play defense.

POPULAR THEORIES IN EMERGING BASKETBALL-RELATED CROSS-CULTURAL REFERENCES

by Amin Vafa

Even though it’s pronounced “Ra-MAHN” not “Ra-MONE,” I would still like to see Sessions walk onto the court like this every night. I mean, he cuts through defenses like a razor to get to the line, and one time I saw him suplex Samardo Samuels (Note: No I didn’t.). So I think the nickname should stick.

A BRIEF VIDEO INTERLUDE: The National’s “Bloodbuzz Ohio”

by Amin Vafa

As far as I’m concerned, this should be playing every time a transaction results in a player going to Cleveland. Draft, trade, free agency, whatever. There is not one person out there who can assure me that Omri Casspi wasn’t carried to Ohio in a swarm of bees, OK?

THE DISGRACE

by Scott Leedy

Cleveland fans can hold on to their contempt and hatred for Lebron James and his departure, but ultimately the black sheep of their beloved organization is its fearless, insolent leader. Dan Gilbert has written or said so many stupid things, it’s hard to keep track. We all remember the infamous comic sans letter that was nothing short of a disgrace. Gilbert was merely making public what should’ve been readily apparent: that he was incapable of running his franchise effectively. Yes, LeBron James is an incredibly difficult personality to manage. Sure, many other owners would’ve have done whatever just to appease “The Chosen One,” that doesn’t mean it wasn’t incredibly foolish and detrimental to the organization’s future. Whether it was Gilbert himself or the people he hired the personnel decisions made by the team were questionable at best. Looking back on it not including JJ Hickson in order to acquire Amar’e Stoudemire, stands as one of the greatest misfires of the past few years. So Cleveland you can still point the finger at LeBron James; I know you will. But honestly ask yourself: Why would anyone want to work for Dan Gilbert?

WILL YOU REMEMBER ME? I WILL REMEMBER YOU.

by Noam Schiller

Cleveland’s LeBron James era had its ups-and-downs, for sure, but it’s over. It has been for a while.  Cleveland’s Kyrie Irving era is on the cusp of beginning, and we have no idea how it turns out. None. Which is always fun.

But in between those two, there was an awkward, pretty horrendous, virtually unprecedented 2010-2011 turn. And while Cavs fans will probably be happy to stash it deep inside the history books, quite a bit happened during that we will probably never, ever see again.

We will never, ever see J.J. Hickson lead an NBA team in total points over the course of an entire year again. We will never see an offense that hangs its head in shame as it once again realizes it has no options other that Samardo Samuels. We will not be seeing Manny Harris, at least not in Cleveland.

We will (hopefully) never again see a team’s most efficient offensive player be Ramon Sessions. We will never again see Alonzo Gee start 29 games in an NBA season… though I wish we would. We will never again see a guy like Antawn Jamison blatantly give up on an entire NBA season… unless he stays for another year. We will never Ryan Hollins. Not willingly.

No more 55 point blowouts, no more 26 game losing streaks. No more breakouts by Daniel Gibson, though, who knows with this kid? No more Baron Davis eating his way towards… well, a lot more of that.

I mean not to bring pain, nor to enlighten the faces of Cav fans with the knowledge that this monstrosity is gone. Even a uniquely horrible season is unique, and uniqueness should be revered, if not celebrated. Ideally, when Kyrie Irving leads an upstart Cavs team to playoff achievements three years down the road, 2010-2011 will no longer be a terrifying nightmare, but a whimsy memory, an odd phase that was necessary to kick-start a process of recovery.

I can see clearly now, the rain is gone. The lockout has lifted, we have a season, can I get an Amen? (Amen.) And in the spirit of renewal, our shiny new cadre of writers is putting together previews for all 30 teams in true HP style. From where teams are going to what their disgrace is to explorations of pop culture, we are about to rock, salute us, can I get an Amen? (Amen.) So sit back, relax, and ponder the awesomeness of this fully operational Hardwood Paroxysm 3.0. -Ed. 

QUO VADIMUS (WHERE ARE WE GOING?)

by Scott Leedy

No one likes to feel irrelevant. Everyone, no matter what their position in life, likes to believe that at least something they do or contribute matters. Unfortunately, thinking does not make it so. Enter the 2011-2012 Boston Celtics. They are used to being important, they are accustomed to contending, hell they probably, no they have to believe they have a chance. That’s how sports work, often delusion and grandeur pay off in unexpectedly terrific ways. Other times they only  serve to inflate and exaggerate waning talents, and deteriorating physical skills.

For the past few years, in the Western Conference there’s been a sort of mantra among basketball experts, “You can never count out the Spurs”. They are experienced, they know how to play, and old teams tend to win in the playoffs. In fact, The Spurs haven’t been true contenders for a while now. We’ve placed too much faith and value into their past success. I will not make the same mistake with the Celtics. Could they contend this year? Sure theoretically it’s possible, but in reality they won’t be able to handle the younger contenders in the East. You can play the experience card but at this point both LeBron and Wade have been around the block enough times. The Heat are hardly the Oklahoma City Thunder.

As Charles Barkley so famously says, “the only one who’s undefeated is father time”. The Celtics were old, injured, and tired last year. Now a year older, a year slower, a even more prone to injury, how can we reasonably expect this team to challenge for a championship? Don’t get me wrong they will still be a very good team. Much like the Spurs they execute, they know how to win, and there’s still a lot of talent on the floor. However, the days of dominance and intimidation have passed. One of the little brothers went and punched big brother in the mouth and big brother can’t recapture the fear.

There’s a not so subtle and all too painful transition from experienced, respected, and dominant to old, tired and dismissed. You can hold, cling, and grasp at your previous accomplishments. You can point to past success as evidence of your current relevancy. But looking back won’t grant you anything moving forward.

Only a year and a half removed from the heartbreaking Finals loss, the Celtics find themselves knocking on the door of irrelevancy. They aren’t really going anywhere. They place they’d like to reach remains outside their grasp, and yet there’s enough ego, enough history, enough previous success to convince themselves otherwise. There’s no shame in being a “has been”; no dishonor in succumbing to the inevitability of age. For The Celtics the future holds no promise. Their time has come and past.

Let’s Start A Cult About: Avery Bradley

by Noam Schiller

You can do this. You know you can do this. You have more talent than these clowns in your fingernail. You can outwit them while numbing your mind in front of reality television. Them? They’re nothing. You’re the best around, nothing’s gonna ever keep you down.

Except, they don’t know that. In fact, they think the opposite. You’re the new kid, and as such, the burden of proof is on your shoulders. It doesn’t matter that their ceiling is 10% of yours, because that 10% has already been achieved. You’re starting from 0, and the higher you project to go, the higher the climb to get there.

You try to ignore that lump in your throat as the judgmental gaze of their well-versed eyes burn against the back of your neck. Let them thing what they want, right? You know your worth. Even if they don’t. But… there’s more of them than there is of you. And they were here first. For quite a while, too. What if they’re right? What if you don’t have it? What if your sense of self-worth is but a product of ignorance and childish delusions or grandeur?

Your confidence is unwavering. Sadly, you can’t say the same for your abilities. Suddenly, versatility becomes a burden, jack-of-all-trades becomes master-of-none. Your eyes try to focus on the goal at hand, but something about the tips of your feet draws them downward. You swear it isn’t shame, it isn’t discomfort, it’s sheer happenstance that you can’t dare to stare at your adversary, but even you are starting to doubt yourself. You try to perk yourself up, but your previously sturdy shoulders are drooping, and before you realize it, you’re begging for a second chance.

Avery Bradley is phenomenal at basketball. He’s better than you. He’s better than me. He’s better than everybody. We all know it, and so does he. It’s no coincidence that the Texas product was ranked number one in his high school class. That’s John Wall territory, punk. You should show some respect.

Should. If only Bradley could demand it.

Because even though he has all of the talent in the world, something just doesn’t fit. The silky shot inexplicably rims out, the rhythmic dribble prefers to take its defining beat out of bounds. Hailed as a combo guard, Bradley has devolved into the worst kind of tweener – the kind that doesn’t fit anywhere not because his skill set doesn’t fit his size, but because his skill set just isn’t there.
Avery Bradley is the last NBA player I’ve seen play in a live game, as he briefly swept through my hometown team of Hapoel Jerusalem in a lockout-induced haze. Overseas, even more than in the NBA, his talent stands orders of magnitude above that of the competition. And yet, even when the 18,000 seat TD Garden was replaced with the 3,000 seat Malcha Arena, Bradley’s shoulders still rested several inches beneath his neckline, and his eyes still revealed the same timid child that can’t live up to the lofty expectations that he himself compares himself to.

It’s not that Bradley is incapable. On the contrary. The ability oozes out of his pores. But the bristled hair that stands on his frightened skin prevents it from manifesting on the court. For every coulda shoulda woulda that we ever experienced, we should be desperately rooting that the 6’3″ athletic specimen vanquishes the 0’0″ demons back to the fiery depths of human psyche hell.

A Brief Video Interlude

by Scott Leedy

So this video is very NSFW. NO SERIOUSLY, THERE ARE NOT BIG ENOUGH NSFW LETTERS FOR HOW HOW NSFW THIS IS.

I hope the relevancy is obvious. I will let the clip speak for itself. Enjoy.

The Disgrace

by Sean Highkin

As of this writing, Jermaine O’Neal is the Celtics’ opening-night starting center. Paul Pierce will likely miss the start of the season with a bruised heel, and Kevin Garnett has battled knee problems in recent years. The Celtics’ projected starters not named Rajon Rondo are an average age of 34.5, which would be a concern in a schedule not compressed to all get-out. The added back-to-backs are a challenge for every team, but no prospective title contender is as likely to feel their full wrath as Boston. Even the Spurs, as old as they are, have enough serviceable young-ish guys to spell Tim Duncan and Manu Ginobili when necessary. Outside of new acquisition Brandon Bass, the Celtics’ depth chart isn’t pretty. When healthy, the Celtics should still be good enough to hang with most teams, but the condensed schedule will make it not just wise but absolutely necessary to give KG and Pierce days off. This means these guys will probably be on the wrong end of more blowouts this season than their on-paper talent would dictate.

I can see clearly now, the rain is gone. The lockout has lifted, we have a season, can I get an Amen? (Amen.) And in the spirit of renewal, our shiny new cadre of writers is putting together previews for all 30 teams in true HP style. From where teams are going to what their disgrace is to explorations of pop culture, we are about to rock, salute us, can I get an Amen? (Amen.) So sit back, relax, and ponder the awesomeness of this fully operational Hardwood Paroxysm 3.0. -Ed. 

QUO VADIMUS (WHERE ARE WE GOING?)

By Sean Highkin

In the suddenly wide-open Western Conference, the Grizzlies as good a chance as anyone of reaching the Finals. Michael Heisley has finally put his money where his mouth is, paying up big to extend Zach Randolph and re-up Marc Gasol, keeping one of the toughest front lines in the West intact. Rudy Gay, who missed almost half of last season, is back. This team has about three years to capitalize on the situation they’ve put themselves in before the big contracts they’ve handed out turn from necessary expenses to financial albatrosses.

Gay is back, but Darrell Arthur is out for the year with an Achilles injury and Shane Battier left for Miami. Otherwise, though, the team that shocked the top-seeded Spurs in the first round of the 2011 playoffs and came within one game of reaching the Conference Finals is mostly intact. And that may be enough in a conference without a clear favorite. These Grizzlies are the kind of team nobody wants any part of in any series or during any road trip. To use one of Tony Allen’s favorite phrases, they’re a team that grinds. They’ll be physical, they’ll do the dirty work, they’ll find ways to shut you down. The biggest question mark in the rotation currently is O.J. Mayo, who the Grizzlies insist they’re not shopping right now despite almost trading him for Josh McRoberts last week. Off-court struggles and some on-court regression caused him to lose his starting job to Allen last year, and now he must find a way to bounce back amid an uncertain role and persistent trade rumors. The good news for him is that the Grizz’ roster and direction are more set now than they were going into last season, so he’ll get his opportunities to earn back his job.

With Arthur’s injury, the Grizz could stand to add another big man. Former Blazers and Bobcats forward Dante Cunningham signed an offer sheet recently, and by the time you read this he may or may not be officially on this roster. Either way, with Gasol and Randolph locked up and other key rotation players either healthy or poised to improve, this is a team to be scared of.

POPULAR THEORIES IN BASKETBALL-CULTURAL CROSS-REFERENCES

By Danny Chau

Was there life before Tony Allen?

Okay. Dumb question. The Grizzlies were a team on the rise before Allen ever inked his contract two summers ago. They were a game under .500, and the team had a standard framework with standard pieces. They had a big, burly center who was consistent on both ends of the floor. They had an excellent rebounding power forward with strong post play. They had a hyper-athletic archetypal small forward, a gunning shooting guard, and a crafty point guard still learning the position. They had the pieces, but something was missing. They were missing a bit of energy, a bit of imperfection, a bit of crazy.

If there was any criticism for Sam Cooke, it was the saccharine quality of his records. For the father of soul, his records were restrained. He didn’t pull people in with the power of his voice, but in the litheness and vanilla of the songs. But a completely different animal arrived during live performances. And perhaps the greatest gift he left (other than the gift of Soul, of course) after his untimely death in 1964 was his live performance at a club in Miami.

Listen to the first two minutes of the video above. It’s an interlude to “Bring It On Home To Me,” a rendition of one of his earlier hits, “You Send Me,” but only in name. While the original is a quaint, tender song, what he belts out in the interlude is a powerful story of the visceral compulsion.  It’s an unbelievable energy that he creates, a movement that summons not only his inner-most grit, but the audience’s audible adulation. Cooke unleashes his power, but always reins back. It isn’t about losing yourself completely. It’s about finding a balance between order and inspiration and discovering that optimal conditions might not always be right in the middle.

The Grizzlies’ second round series against the Oklahoma City Thunder was their Harlem Square Club performance. It was a nice encapsulation of everything the team was capable of despite adversity and losing the team’s most recognizable star. Now that star is back, but a few other injuries placed at least a touch of doubt in the team’s forecast.

So was “Heart. Grit. Grind.” just a tagline for the Grizzlies’ storybook season last year, or are they ready for it to define their future?

WILL YOU REMEMBER ME, I WILL REMEMBER YOU

By Noam Schiller

Once upon a time, in a land far far away, there lived a young underdog.

The underdog had been ridiculed all its life. It was heckled when they signed Bryant Reeves to a $62 million deal. It was violently dismissed when it amassed a distressing 0-12 record in its first 3 playoff appearances. It was guffawed at when it lost the best player in franchise history for a pack of smokes and a “hope the second rounder we just gave you loses a lot of weight and becomes a top-notch center” Hallmark card.

But the underdog didn’t mind. It enjoyed every second of Shareef Abdur-Rahim, both ends of the Mike Bibby-Jason Williams trade, Pau Gasol with or without the beard. It even loved DeMarre Carroll. Loved him with all its heart. Because it knew, deep down, that one day it will become a contender.

One day, a large-bottomed malcontent came to town. “Look at that underdog”, everybody laughed. “The large-bottomed malcontent couldn’t even make it in New York. Everybody knows that everything is better in New York!” But the underdog loved the large-bottomed malcontent so much. They loved his smooth shooting. They loved his offensive rebounding.  They loved how he couldn’t be stopped in the post, not if he really cared. They loved him so much that he started passing, and he started defending, and the underdog fed him in the post, and he became an all-star.

Then, the underdog signed a crazy free agent. “Look at that underdog!”, everybody howled, “just look at them! Didn’t they watch the crazy free agent in Boston? Didn’t they see him tear an ACL for a garbage time dunk? Don’t they know he can’t even make layups?” But the underdog loved its crazy free agent. They loved his grit, grind and heart so much, that they made t-shirts about him. And the crazy free agent started making layups, and became a Defensive Player of the Year candidate.

Then, the underdog gave a $45 million dollar contract to its left-handed bust. “LOOK AT THAT UNDERDOG!”, everybody bellowed, “look how much money they gave the left-handed bust! Don’t they know that he’s not a good point guard? Can’t they see he’s too small, and he makes too many mistakes on offense, and he can’t score?” But the underdog loved the left-handed bust so much. They loved how fast he was, and they loved how much he cared. And the left-handed bust posted a career high assist rate, and a career low turnover rate, and became a very good basketball player.

The underdog loved all of its players. And the players loved the underdog. And even more importantly, they loved each other. They fought and they hustled and they defended and they got back to the playoffs. And when they faced one of its old bullies, they punked them.

Suddenly, everybody was friends with the underdog. “Hey, underdog!”, they said, “nice job in the playoffs! Can we be friends, now? Can we have your borderline all-star swingman who has come back from injury? Can we have your skilled free agent center? We’re friends, and friends share!”

But the underdog didn’t want to share. It knew the other teams weren’t really friends. They were just scared.. Scared of the unstoppable frontcourt, scared of the defensive intensity, scared of losing to a silly underdog. Scared because the underdog had evolved into a big, beautiful contender.

The big, beautiful contender was about to embark on a journey towards a championship. But just before it went on its way, there was a hint of sadness. The success of a contender is never as fun as the success of an underdog. The contender wasn’t ungrateful – it truly was happy at what it had become. But that 2010-2011 feeling was unlike any other that it will ever feel.

I can see clearly now, the rain is gone. The lockout has lifted, we have a season, can I get an Amen? (Amen.) And in the spirit of renewal, our shiny new cadre of writers is putting together previews for all 30 teams in true HP style. From where teams are going to what their disgrace is to explorations of pop culture, we are about to rock, salute us, can I get an Amen? (Amen.) So sit back, relax, and ponder the awesomeness of this fully operational Hardwood Paroxysm 3.0. -Ed. 

Quo Vadimus (Where Are We Going?)

By Noam Schiller

Call me old-fashioned, but I just don’t get reality television.

 It’s not that I’m an angry spinster that derives pleasure from raining in on joyous parades. There are plenty of things that I find entertaining in this world. But filmed, unscripted dysfunction theatrically brought to life through the vessel of self-entitlement that is a Snoochy or a Dauly P or a Ronkie-poodle or whatever current never-ending abyss calls itself? On my list, that ranks slightly below watching paint dry.

It’s not that I’m opposed to people doing incredibly stupid things, either. The innermost depths of failure can be a fascinating thing if presented correctly. The problem with reality television is how it insists on focusing on a group of people with absolutely nothing to offer. Which defeats the entire point. Failure can be fascinating, but only if it involves actual underachieving talent. It’s why the mid-2000s Knicks were fascinating while the 09-10 Nets or the 10-11 Cavs were just sad.

The Sacramento Kings may or may not fail this season. They most certainly will involve quite a bit of dysfunction. But one thing if for sure – you won’t be lamenting a lack of talent.

DeMarcus Cousins has a legitimate claim for most talented player in the league, and anybody claiming otherwise just hasn’t bothered watching him. A 6’11″, 270 frame, a rare combination of soft hands and rugged strength, a monstrous rebounder, a deft passer, and just 21 years old? Ignore the situation going on inside that noggin and tell me where you’ve seen a more complete hypothetical package.

And DeMarcus isn’t even the best player on the team at this point. Tyreke Evans had him some plantar fasciitis fun last season, sending even the most loyal fans tumbling into a heap of frustration and pessimism. But how easy it is to forget just how good a healthy Evans was just 20 months ago – and he couldn’t even shoot! Sure, you always run the risk of him never actually learning how to shoot, but why would you even think of that? Why are you such a heartless bastard? WHY DO YOU HATE TYREKE EVANS?!

Unless you’re Byron Scott or Monty Williams, you can’t hate Marcus Thornton. 2 years and a new contract in, we should all realize what Marcus Thornton is – a fantastic, dare I say elite scorer, who is probably best suited coming off the bench but should play 30 minutes a night regardless how the game starts. Buckets gets Buckets, and he gets ‘em good.

And it continues down the roster. Jason Thompson may have been the exact same player for 3 years, but that player is a good NBA big man. J.J. Hickson can’t make a defensive rotation to save his life, but his hippity-hoppity brand of ineptitude is, at the very least, entertaining. Isaiah Thomas is not only named Isaiah Thomas, he also just happens to be an explosive 5’8″ shooting guard that isn’t named Nate Robinson. The league can never have enough of those. And The Jimmer. Good lord, The Jimmer. Call it divine intervention, call it freaky coincidence, but never have you seen a 32 footer so smooth. Heck, never have you seen anything so smooth.

The Kings still need the talent they have to work out. But at least they got it, loaded up the good ole Chuckwagon (finally), and are taking it for a ride. It’s just the first, second and third steps in a multiple-step journey towards respectability, but they’ve made multiple steps, and it’s hard to find fault in that.

Popular Theories  in Emerging  Basketball-Cultural Cross-References

by Curtis Harris

I’ve got Boogie Fever. You should, too. Why?

Because Demarcus “Boogie” Cousins is on the roster. The Boogie Man in the middle is a handful for opponents, especially when he hasn’t scuttled his own play with dumb fouls. However, there are other reasons to get the Boogie Fever with the Kings.

There are seven, count ‘em, 7 players on this roster between 6’6″ and 6’9″. Such equity in height hasn’t been achieved since… wouldn’t you know it… 1975 when the Sylvers were singing and dancing their butts off to… wait for it… Boogie Fever.* I hereby petition the Sacramento Kings to make a team video of Tyreke Evans, Francisco Garcia, Tyler Honeycutt and other dapper Kings regally getting down.

*Other boogie songs you should consider playing while watching the Kings: “Boogie Oogie Oogie“, “Blame it on the Boogie“, “Boogie Down“, “Jungle Boogie“, “Boogie on Reggae Woman“, “Boogie Ain’t Nuttin’ (But Gettin’ Down)“, “Aqua Boogie (A Psychoalphadiscobetabioaquadoloop)“, “I’m Your Boogie Man“, “Boogie Shoes“, “Boogie Wonderland” and “Move Your Boogie Body“.

Boogie Nights  the film was considered for discussion, but this is a family blog.

The Disgrace

By Noam Schiller

If you’re trying to develop talent, you need many things. And that environment needs to be monitored by a capable headmaster.

And then you have Paul Westphal.

Let me get this out of the way right off the bat: if the Kings’ youngsters fail to reach their considerable potential, it won’t be because of Westphal. The talent runs too deep for a single man to destroy, and the obstacles that stand in the way are easily apparent regardless of who’s it is running the show from behind the sidelines. It certainly isn’t hard to imagine a guy like DeMarcus Cousins flaming out even with the steadiest hand available showing him the way, and he could just as easily become a perennial MVP candidate even if the only coaching he ever gets is a bunch of Teletubbies standing behind him yelling “again! Again!” after he rips the arms off an unsuspecting defender.

But Paul Westphal is a horrible, horrible start.

His offense is “uhm, guys, we should probably score, K?”. His defense is “remember that thing I told you about scoring when we were on offense? Well, that’s a no-no”. His rotations change nightly, his substitutions random. There is no rhythm, rhyme, or reason – just a big ole “what?” dabbled with “why?”.

If your response to that last paragraph was “isn’t that the exact opposite of an ideal talent-developing system?”, the answer is yes. Consistency, stability, a clearly established and logically plausible grid of Dos and Don’ts – all absent, in the name of Westphal’s Whims. It’s a shame, because he strikes us as a genuinely nice person, but it makes watching what should be a fascinating team a frustrating chore.

Let’s Start A Cult About Really Really Enjoy: Jimmer Fredette

by Connor Huchton

Beyond all of the pointless hype and overwrought criticism, Jimmer Fredette possesses the tools to become a very good NBA player. Most evaluations of what Jimmer can contribute as an NBA player begin and end with his weaknesses (that’s the case with many players), but fail to understand one of Jimmer’s great capabilities: Capitalizing on his own strengths.

What makes Jimmer interesting beyond the boring narrative is what he can do so well: Shoot from anywhere on the floor. But his skills are far from encapsulated by the simple idea of the three-pointer. He can drive and pull up, he’s quick, and he has the depth of experience to know exactly what works for him and what doesn’t. Some of what he relied on may not translate to the NBA directly, but some of it absolutely will. The flashes of skill have been presented in spades during Jimmer’s first two preseason games (16.5 PPG on great shooting numbers), as have his weaknesses.

Jimmer will struggle to finish at the basket in the NBA, and his first step won’t prove as lethal against the league’s incredible athletes. He’ll try and fail to score against numerous matchups, especially in his rookie season. He’ll likely never be a star, though I’m certain jersey sales and endorsement deals may indicate otherwise. While those weaknesses will hinder Jimmer’s ability to become a solid NBA starter, his undervalued passing ability will expedite that process. He’s no longer on a BYU team that demands his every shot, and he’s shown the willingness to alter his game accordinly in two preseason games. The issue isn’t whether Jimmer can pass competently. He has that ability. The question is whether he’ll choose to pass, and early signs indicate he will.

I don’t want to start “a cult” about Jimmer Fredette. That line of thinking has become far too prevalent already. But I do want to be excited about a young, exciting player with quantifiable NBA skills. And that’s what Jimmer is now, once you navigate past the craze and hype. Just an NBA player, and an incredibly fun one to watch play.

I can see clearly now, the rain is gone. The lockout has lifted, we have a season, can I get an Amen? (Amen.) And in the spirit of renewal, our shiny new cadre of writers is putting together previews for all 30 teams in true HP style. From where teams are going to what their disgrace is to explorations of pop culture, we are about to rock, salute us, can I get an Amen? (Amen.) So sit back, relax, and ponder the awesomeness of this fully operational Hardwood Paroxysm 3.0. -Ed. 

 

QUO VADIMUS (WHERE ARE WE GOING?)

by Amin Vafa

Where are these Pacers going? Up. Whether it’s because other teams in the East (and the West, for that matter) have gone down, or it’s because it’s the Pacers’ turn to be good again, these guys are going up. You know what? Let’s not sell them short. This team is going up not because of the shortfalls of others but because it has made smart moves over the past few seasons, even in the face of economic demise. The team began revamping its personality and roster after the infamous Brawl in 2004, and slowly but surely it has reemerged as a team full of young, talented players on reasonable contracts. The Pacers have a coach (Frank Vogel) that’s good at coaching, and all the players seem to like him. Novel, eh?

Oh, and they managed to do something fans of every small market team consistently complain they can’t do: they signed a major free agent (David West) during free agency to (again) a very reasonable deal. How’d they do it? See above. So with a core of West, Collison, Granger, Hill, Hands-Bro, and Hibbert, these guys not only have a secure foothold as the second-best team in the Central Division, but they’ll no doubt be a staple in the East’s playoff seedings for years to come.

If you like the Pacers as much as we here at HP do, click here and here to read more!

 

A Brief Video Interlude

by Andrew Lynch

Before: A Pacers team almost bad enough to miss the playoffs last year when 36 wins would have gotten them in.

After: A Pacers team shooting for the stars of mediocrity by adding David West and George Hill. The problem is that signing a contract, be it for a weight loss scheme or an above-average power forward, doesn’t guarantee results. And even if you do the necessary work, you still might be wearing a pink business suit and shoulder pads wider than Oliver Miller.

 

Popular Theories in Basketball-Cultural Cross-References

by Sean Highkin

Roy Hibbert on Parks & Recreation:

NBA Twitter loves two things like no other: NBC’s Parks & Recreation and the 2011-12 Indiana Pacers. It makes sense that the two are linked, beyond just being based in the same state: both are unconventional and lacking in traditional star power, but often more intriguing and compelling than the teams and shows that get higher ratings. Amy Poehler is Parks’ Danny Granger, its star, but neither is thought of by the general public as part of the same tier as the bigger names in their field. The prized newcomer is David West, who, like Parks’ Adam Scott, joined the cast after the demise of a beloved but doomed unit (the Chris Paul-era Hornets, Party Down). Both feature sneaky-good role players (Paul George, Aubrey Plaza). And of course, there’s Roy Hibbert’s onscreen friendship with Tom Haverford (I wish the video here could be more than two seconds long, but NBC doesn’t think anybody should be allowed to watch their videos online ever). The Pacers may bomb like 7Twenty Entertainment, but I like their chances as a dark horse of the ilk of Leslie Knope’s budding political career.

I can see clearly now, the rain is gone. The lockout has lifted, we have a season, can I get an Amen? (Amen.) And in the spirit of renewal, our shiny new cadre of writers is putting together previews for all 30 teams in true HP style. From where teams are going to what their disgrace is to explorations of pop culture, we are about to rock, salute us, can I get an Amen? (Amen.) So sit back, relax, and ponder the awesomeness of this fully operational Hardwood Paroxysm 3.0. -Ed. 

TO BEGIN, A BRIEF VIDEO PRELUDE

By Danny Chau

Erik Spoelstra, in response to losing in the Finals with one of the most highly anticipated teams in league history, has decided to update his playbook by ripping out pages from our dream logs and stapling it to the front. Spoelstra will play upon the team’s unique interchangeability.  The Miami Heat have an incredible amount of defensive potential, but if all goes well, we’ll be witnessing an offensive awakening. Be formless, shapeless. Be water, Superfriends.

QUO VADIMUS (WHERE ARE WE GOING?)

By Curtis Harris

To discuss the Miami Heat, we must slough off all the unnecessary baggage and get to the basketball core. That means The Decision, as poorly conceived as it was and as ill-received as it continues to be, must be put aside. The WWF spectacular that greeted the arrival of The Heatles? You’ve got hide that disdain away.

Looking solely at the on-court, basketball dimensions of the Heat, what they pulled off last year is quite commendable. The roster consisted of only 4, maybe 5 players you’d want starting on a championship roster. Sadly, none of them played point guard or center. There’s the two bona fide Hall of Famers in Dwyane Wade and LeBron James. Chris Bosh when his career is through will be a borderline Hall of Famer at worst. Udonis Haslem is the type of sturdy and dependable role-player that melds together championship teams. There’s your four high-quality players. The fifth possible member is Mike Miller who was on-the-court, off-the-court all season long battling various injuries and ailments. Hopefully he can regain his health and eschew the passive mindset that crippled him in Minnesota and Washington.

The rest of the Heat roster last season was best served coming off the bench as 2^nd- or even 3^rd-stringers but they were forced into heavy rotation. Mario Chalmers and Joel Anthony are serviceable backups that were pressed into starters’ roles. The corpses of Erick Dampier, Jamaal Magloire, Zydrunas Ilgauskas, Mike Bibby, Carlos Arroyo and Juwan Howard haunted the Miami rotation all year.

Despite it all, the Heat dispatched the 76ers, Celtics and Bulls 4 games to 1 in each of their playoff series. Certainly there were some lackluster and underwhelming performances in the Finals against Dallas, but the Heat still won 2 games in that series and easily could have taken two more (Games 2 and 4). Was last season a total success? No. Nothing ever is unless you win the title.

But that was certainly a hell of a start for Miami’s Big 3 and this season portends better things. For starters, there’s the benefit of continuity. Having a season’s worth of experience of playing with your mates and knowing their instincts and seamlessly playing off one another. That cannot be discounted. Furthermore, Mike Miller and Udonis Haslem will be healthy as the season begins and the addition of Shane Battier further allows more rest for the Heat’s big guns.

Roster deficiencies remain outside of those players but LeBron’s a year better. Bosh as well. Wade is holding steady and may yet improve some more. These are all scary thoughts for the rest of the league considering Miami was a mere two games away from a title last season.

 

POPULAR THEORIES IN BASKETBALL-CULTURAL CROSS-REFERENCES

By Connor Huchton

In DodgeBall: A True Underdog Story, the plot’s primary villains are the Globo-Gym Purple Cobras, led by villain White Goodman and his band of seemingly unstoppable dodgeball athletes. They’re deemed unbeatable by most dodgeball experts, and seen as overwhelming favorites to win the tournament championship.

Unlike the Purple Cobras, who were eventually defeated by the team from Average Joe’s (against all odds, of course), the Heat don’t have to face the crux of movie endings. They control their own destiny, and that destiny (in 2011-2012) probably doesn’t involve an unlikely underdog’s challenge. The Heat isn’t a team comprised of villains in reality, but it’s a role they’ve largely accepted.

 

WILL YOU REMEMBER ME, I WILL REMEMBER YOU

I can see clearly now, the rain is gone. The lockout has lifted, we have a season, can I get an Amen? (Amen.) And in the spirit of renewal, our shiny new cadre of writers is putting together previews for all 30 teams in true HP style. From where teams are going to what their disgrace is to explorations of pop culture, we are about to rock, salute us, can I get an Amen? (Amen.) So sit back, relax, and ponder the awesomeness of this fully operational Hardwood Paroxysm 3.0. -Ed.

Quo Vadimus (Where Are We Going?)

by Amin Vafa

Where ever John Wall takes them. Wall has the potential to take this team into hyperspace in terms of speed of play and re-relevance in the league. But for now, his momentum is being slowed down by a bunch of non-complementary pieces who embody poor decision-making, unnecessary ball-stopping, and lackadaisical defense—to name a few traits. If only Don Nelson were the coach, then at least this rag-tag bunch of chuckleheads could play some fast paced exciting-yet-terrible ball.

Thankfully, the team is in good shape going forward this season and after. With the additions of offensively and defensively adept big men Jan Vesely and Chris Singleton, Washington’s getting a much need boost to its front line’s depth of both talent and character. If the status quo were to be maintained for the rest of the season (no transactions, no drama, etc), then this team is still demonstrably better than it was last year simply because of the additions of Singleton and Vesely and because of Wall’s health and veteran mentality. However, if the team were to enact my wishlist (let Grunfeld walk at the end of the season and hire Pritchard, trade Blatche and other non-Wall-complimentary pieces, sign an effective shooting guard that works off the ball), then I would foresee them making the playoffs next year.

Also, lest we forget, SHINY NEW TEAM JERSEYS!

Who Wants to Start a Cult about Ted Leonsis?

by Amin Vafa

OK, so maybe NBA bloggers/fans/blogfrans(?) aren’t too keen on starting a cult about an owner after the lockout painted that bloc rather villainously. Also, Leonsis was part of the cadre of also-NHL-team-owners that seemed interested in turning the NBA’s system into something NHL-like. But hear me out!

Ted Leonsis has performed really well as an owner so far. He had one minor blip at the beginning of his term by signing Blatche to a long-term contract (but still fairly-priced considering Blatche’s statistical production), but other than that he has taken a franchise that got out of control in terms of finances and drama in the final years of Abe Pollin’s tenure and has managed to steer the ship well without burning the building to the ground or further mixing his metaphors. The team is chock-fun of youngins, and the only monstrous contract left is Rashard Lewis’s. And if the team can’t get the production out of him that it needs—POOF: Amnestied. Let’s be real, Shard’s probably getting amnestied anyway (but at least he brought veteran presence to a young locker room, provided a means to dump Arenas’s contract, and I got to see him walk his dog by my apartment once—so definitely a valuable short-term addition).

Despite having to deal with poorly managed assets upon his takeover of the team, Leonsis managed to be respectful to the Pollin legacy in ways that have been very well-received in the city of Washington and among the NBA community at large. Irene Pollin, Abe’s widow, was the team representative at the draft that landed the Wizards John Wall. Not to mention, he has also also preserved Abe’s wishes by NOT changing the team name back to the fan-favorite Bullets moniker—a definitely classy move, even if we’re about one step away from changing the name to the Washington Monuments. Ted has also been very accessible to fans via his blog and even his email, and he’s even managed to be blog-friendly! I think nothing exemplifies Leonsis’s fan-friendly, media-friendly, contract-friendly, sensible and stable approach to ownership than this interview he did with the SB Nation Redskins site Hogs Haven. I encourage you to go over and read the whole thing. Ted has applied that approach to the Caps and has had a lot of success in the past few years. I, for one, cannot wait for him to be able to exercise his same philosophy with the Wizards.

ALL HAIL TED. KALI-MAAAAA!

Note: Much of Leonsis’s ability to rebuild the Caps and the Wizards has stemmed from the fact that he has drafted two phenoms in Alex Ovechkin and John Wall. If he’s not 100% sensible, then at least he’s damn lucky. And it’s not like franchises don’t need luck to survive.

POPULAR THEORIES IN EMERGING BASKETBALL-CULTURAL CROSS-REFERENCES

by Amin Vafa

PLANKING! What is planking, you ask? Please don’t ask. OK, I’ll tell you. It’s when you lie down flat (LIKE A PLANK) on top of stuff that normally isn’t supposed to be lied down upon. Like a stack of weights, or something else equally stupid. Anyway, the fad burned bright over the summer, and thankfully, it has run its course. How do we know it has run its course? Because it was immortalized in an episode of The Office. With that, we here at Hardwood Paroxysm bid adieu to planking with this clip of Javale McGee performing the mythical rebound-dunk-block-plank combo (officially giving him enough points to upgrade from Wizard to Mage) during an exhibition game in the Philippines.

RIP Planking.

/21-gun salute

A Brief Video Interlude

by Amin Vafa

Here’s John Wall doing the Dougie. At the time of this intro, Wall’s dance wasn’t only topical, it drove Wizards fans crazy with excitement. In fact, he made this song so popular in Washington that:

1) the Wizards brought Cali Swag District to perform during a third quarter intermission. Fans loved the song, but were so oblivious to who had written it that the Wizards’ hype man Big Tigger had to shout the crowd “THIS IS THEIR SONG! THESE ARE THE GUYS THAT WROTE THIS SONG!” thus making Cali Swag District momentary celebrities in DC.

2) Ted Leonsis wagered Wizards fandom that if they could sell out a non-marquee game (so excluding games Lakers, Celtics, Heat, and other teams with roving fanbases), then he would do the Dougie. Unfortunately, that never happened… except briefly in this WTOP interview (check out the 26-second mark)

The Disgrace

by Curtis Harris

The Three Stooges: JaVale McGee, Andray Blatche and Nick Young. The three holdovers from the glorious Caron-Antawn-Finga Gunz era. Sadly it appears these three young men learned more from Gilbert Arenas than they did from Antawn Jamison. Jamison is one of the most professional and hard-working players we’ve had in the league for the last 15 years. Gilbert is the noted fool who gets his giggles from leaving [redacted] in the shoes of teammates. And let’s not even recall the Showdown in the Locker Room.

Young and McGee are merely knuckleheads who are most likely just experiencing growing pains. McGee is super talented, can jump out the gym and has the wingspan of an albatross. I pray for the day when he can make wise basketball decisions on the court instead of attempting a FT line dunk or leaving tread marks on James Jones. Young can shoot the rock like few others. Unfortunately, that’s usually the only way the ball ever leaves his hands. Last season, you could see the wheels a-turnin’ inside his head, though, as he made wiser decisions with the ball and on his shot-selection as he put up a career-high in TS% and a career-low in TO%.

Then there’s Blatche. The incorrigible buffoon. Never does it seem he does anything out of malice, but his head has just never been screwed on right. Seeing him chase after a triple-double was one of the sadder sights in NBA memory, until McGee went on his on quest last season. Then again, McGee never grimaced at a teammate for making the right basketball play.

Ugh, let’s just focus on John Wall.

Will You Remember Me? I Will Remember You.

by Scott Leedy

It feels a bit like a time bomb doesn’t it? Maybe it’s a little too early to be discussing this. The Wizards are young, and yes they are bound to be terrible but they also have what appears to be one of the most talented point guards in the league. John Wall is supposed to be the savior of the franchise. He’s going to fulfill the promise Gilbert Arenas never really could. He will make The Wizards relevant. Or at least that’s the hope. Lately it feels like hope is merely an illusion of success that never comes. Every so called “savior” appears to be jumping ship for a larger market with more high profile teammates. The love between fanbase and star, however real it actually is, doesn’t seem to hold much weight when faced with the promise of more championships and grander legacies.

I know, John Wall isn’t even good enough to merit this discussion yet. But in many ways it feels appropriate. The Wizards have only a few more years to build something that suit’s Wall’s interests and sensibilities. Their future will be defined as much by Wall’s off court choices as it is by his on court play. They got lucky enough to land a what is likely to be a franchise cornerstone. Now it’s their job to make sure Washington isn’t just a stepping stone for Wall’s illustrious career. So when we look back on this season, the important question isn’t as much “How good can John Wall make The Wizards?” as it is “Are the Wizards good enough for John Wall to stay?”

I can see clearly now, the rain is gone. The lockout has lifted, we have a season, can I get an Amen? (Amen.) And in the spirit of renewal, our shiny new cadre of writers is putting together previews for all 30 teams in true HP style. From where teams are going to what their disgrace is to explorations of pop culture, we are about to rock, salute us, can I get an Amen? (Amen.) So sit back, relax, and ponder the awesomeness of this fully operational Hardwood Paroxysm 3.0. -Ed.

Quo Vadimus (Where Are We Going?)

By Andrew Lynch

In the beginning, there was Monta Ellis and Stephen Curry. In the end, there might be only one.

We live in a world that exists on the precarious edge of a knife. In the late 1920s, Paul Dirac predicted the existence of antimatter particles – one for each type of known “regular” particle. These antimatter particles are the exact opposite of their matter counterparts – same mass, same lifespan, but different charge. When the two come into contact, they eliminate each other, like sonar peaks and troughs, releasing a fair amount of energy as photons – light. Not all of the matter and antimatter in the universe annihilated each other, though, during the Big Bang. For reasons still unproven, our universe has a bias toward matter. Instead of equal amounts of matter and antimatter existing and then ceasing to be, you exist. This website exists. And yes, sadly, Andris Biedrins exists.

That bias toward existence, or baryogenesis, is scantly understood. It may result from the initial conditions during the Big Bang being unbalanced in favor of matter. The more accepted notion, however, is that baryons and antibaryons existed symmetrically and that something in the universe created conditions that favored the baryons. Over enough time, everything as we know it came to be. For every trillion reactions that ended in energy emission and particle destruction, one pairing was efficient enough to overcome.

And maybe Ellis and Curry can be that pair. The dichotomy between the two is voiced often and loudly by some; Curry is the efficient initiator of the offense who stands to join the upper echelons of the elite point guards, while Ellis is a black hole who couldn’t spell “efficiency” if you spotted him the “n-o l-o-n-g t-w-o-s.” Conventional wisdom is that the Warriors would be a better team if they were able to trade Ellis and get the ball out of his hands. If not, the two will obliterate each other – and the team’s playoff chances.

But that might be overstating the fact. According to NBA.com’s John Schuhmann, the two performed fairly admirable when on the floor together last season, so long as Biedrins was far, far away from the court. An improved season from David Lee and an even average performance from Kwame Brown, along with the continued development of Dorell Wright, could combine with Curry and Ellis to surprise some in the Western Conference.

Of course, the more likely result is the clash of two players accompanied by an occasional flash of brilliance. Unfortunately for Golden State fans, this experiment won’t take place in a controlled environment. Shammgod’s speed.

 

Popular Theories  in Emerging  Basketball-Cultural Cross-References

by Connor Huchton

I love the 2007 movie “Hot Rod”. It’s fun, flawed, and unique. It isn’t necessarily a good or bad film, because it abandons all sense of posterity for absurdity and character sketches. It has incredibly little focus while providing occasionally brilliance. The main character, wannabe stuntman Rod, is portrayed by Andy Samberg (convincingly), with stellar performances from then underused actors Bill Hader, Chris Parnell, and Danny McBride.

But “Hot Rod” wasn’t written originally with Samberg in mind. It was intended as a vehicle for Will Ferrell (when he was in his SNL movie days), but instead became Samberg’s big chance. As some have said, that contributes to many of the bits in the movie that don’t work and the sense that parts of this story were written with someone else in mind.

The 2011-2012 Warriors face the same problem. On the surface, they’re an undeniably fun team to watch. The upbeat tempo and the pure offensive ability of many of the team’s players create a team equitably entertaining to nearly every team in the league. Sure, they haven’t celebrated the concept of “defense” in recent years, but they’ve kept things exciting. What holds the Warriors back from reaching the apex of excitement and fun they should achieve nightly is a crisis of identity, just as Hot Rod initially did.

Maybe the team’s long-term future was once written with Monta Ellis in mind, but those times are gone. Ellis remains part of the team, but that singular franchise identity now belongs to Stephen Curry. Curry is an integral part of the team’s future and the face of the franchise, as was indicated partly by Golden State’s reluctance to trade Curry in a potential Chris Paul deal. Ellis is key to the team’s current makeup, but his overall impact is negligible and his ability to play alongside Curry effectively is highly questionable. No, the central part of stardom on the Golden State Warriors is now definitively written for Curry. As Curry grows, so will the fun and excitement surrounding the team.

Whether the 2011-2012 Warriors will be “good” in the traditional sense is questionable, just as Hot Rod’s intellectual cinematic quality often is. It may not be great, it may not be transcendental, but it’s absurd and fun and unique. It’s a film so consumed with itself that it never stops to ensure anything make sense or forms together seamlessly. It’s a collection of ideas that are often delightful and sometimes stale, but never boring. And that’s what the 2011-2012 Warriors are, a team that doesn’t look back, may never achieve traditional success (just as Hot Rod never did), but possesses a quality that inspires a niche periphery of fans. Fans will come seeking the abandonment of the idea of traditional success on the court and embrace the uniqueness and inherent absurdity of it all.

 

A Brief Video Interlude: Inside Warriors Practice

by Curtis Harris

So, recently, new Warriors coach Mark Jackson retweeted this from Silkk the Shocker:

And that got me thinking, this must be what Golden State’s practices look like…

 

The Disgrace: Brown and Biedrins

by Curtis Harris

Since Hall of Famer Nate Thurmond was traded in the early 1970s, the Warriors’ center position has been occupied by ne’er do wells like Alton Lister, lukewarm bodies like Felton Spencer and the barely caring Joe Barry Carroll. Unless Mark Jackson puts David Lee in the foxhole permanently, we’re about to see the saddest chapter yet in the Warriors big man saga.

Andris Biedrins and Kwame Brown are the only two legit centers on the roster. The thought of one of them starting is positively frightening. Yes, Kwame improved his game from reprehensible to middling last season, but that was with Charles Oakley bustin’ his buns every day. Unless Brown internalized that drive and zeal, we’re looking at a huge drop-off campaign. Andris Biedrins, meanwhile, has been down in the dumps for the past two seasons. Injuries and Don Nelson’s mismanagement derailed what looked to be a promising young big man who in 2007 lit the Spurs up for 18 pts, 15 rebounds, 6 blocks and 4 assists and for the next couple of seasons guaranteed you 11 points and 11 rebounds a night.

Now he can’t even make a third of his free throws and his PER has sunk to 12.1. Sadly, Kwame Brown’s PER of 12.8 last year represented an enormous improvement and was his highest since 2007. So pick your poison, Golden State. We may be on the verge of seeing the most pathetic battle for a starting job the NBA has ever witnessed.

 

Gamera Goes Maracas for… Ish Smith

by Curtis Harris

Prepare yourself, Bay Area fans. You’re gonna get a big ol’ crock of Ish this year. It’s even better than it sounds! For a brief three game stretch last season, Ish Smith took the NBA by storm. Filling in for a hobbled KLOE, he averaged a breathtaking 10 points on a blistering 33% field goal percentage. Not content to just fill it up, Smith also reincarnated Fat Lever during this stretch as he dished out a spectacular 5.3 assists and hauled in 4.3 rebounds. Although the Rockets inexplicably benched Smith upon KLOE return from injury, the guard got a second chance at glory with the Memphis Grizzlies.

In the playoffs with Memphis, Smith single-handedly outscored, outrebounded, outassisted, out-everythinged his former teammate and usurper KLOE. [Note: Kyle Lowry did not appear in the postseason] Unbelievably Smith doubled his FG% to 67% during the postseason as he proved to be an unstoppable juggernaut for the trash receptacle units of Oklahoma City and San Antonio.

Gamera always loves it when a dog gets his day.

And on this day, Gamera is gonna hot dog it.

Get on down wit’ yo’ bad self!

Quo Vadimus (Where Are We Going?)

By Andrew Lynch

The long-term answer to this question is simple. Dwight Howard will leave the Magic, most likely for the Nets or the Lakers, and the rebuilding process will begin in Orlando. The details, though, are thornier -- and not just those regarding how Howard changes teams. The Magic are on the hook for very little payroll going forward after amnestying Gilbert Arenas, but the flipside is a dearth of talent for Stan Van Gundy to develop. J.J. Redick is fairly paid for the definable skills he brings as a shooter and passable system defender. Jameer Nelson is an average starting point guard whose 2008-09, injury-shortened peak seems more and more like an anomaly. Glen Davis can’t rebound and took way took many shots from 16-23 feet last year (4.6 per game, shooting 35%), Earl Clark has his own cult following, and Hedo Turkoglu exists. Such is the state of the Orlando Magic if Dwight Howard simply walks out the door after the season. It’s stunning that Howard alone affords the team with the opportunity to advance to the second round of the playoffs; when he leaves, this is a guaranteed top-10 lottery team.

If GM Otis Smith finds a deal to his liking and acquiesces to Howard’s on-again, off-again, but mostly on-again trade demands, that situation would change, but not necessarily for the better. Taking the deal from the Lakers and obtaining Paul Gasol and Andrew Bynum early enough in the season, for instance, would likely lock up a playoff berth in the still muddled bottom half of the Eastern Conference, but at what cost? The Magic would end up in that dreaded no-man’s land between title contention and full-scale rebuilding. Such a situation is disconcerting enough, but this year’s particularly loaded draft might make said result even more costly.

The front office must know all of this, Unfortunately for the Magic, their options are dwindling, particularly with the sad news of Nets center Brook Lopez’s fractured foot. For all of the Otis Smith jokes, though, I have faith that push will come to shove and that Dwight Howard will be in a different uniform sooner than later. Everything before and after that is a question mark.

POPULAR THEORIES IN EMERGING BASKETBALL CULTURAL CROSS-REFERENCES

by Matt Moore

I keep coming back to the Death Cab for Cutie album ”Plans.”

It’s an album primarily about death. What’s worse is that it’s an album about death and love and loving something or someone dying. The opening salvo of “Marching Bands of Manhattan” is so positive, such a sweet, endearing little declaration that winds up with the rather fatal “Your love is gonna drown.” It’s a reminder that good things can wind up killing you, that everything can become too much.

But what makes me think of the Magic is the transition from the most recognizable song on the album, “Follow You Into the Dark,” to the second half of the album, particularly “Someday You Will Be Loved,” “What Sarah Said,” and “Brothers on a Hotel Bed.”

Fans so desperately want their stars to follow them into the dark. The song is about how it doesn’t matter if there is or isn’t something after we die, that it’s not necessary for there to be an afterlife, or a rebuilding project, or a reloading session, or anything. It’s such a beautiful devotion. The song talks about how Catholic school ruined the author’s perception of religion, the same way pundits’ constant talking up of Boston, New York, and L.A. will make a small market fan averse to the idea of contention. Maybe it’s better to just win some games and be pretty good. After all, in the end, the two sides have one another. At least the fans would still have Dwight. No matter what they get to enjoy the player they rooted for, promoted for MVP, and bought jerseys for.

That’s probably what the end of the 2010 regular season was.

But that second half of the album?

It’s fittingly depressing enough for the Magic fans.

Cause there’s no comfort in the waiting room

Just nervous pacers bracing for bad news

And then the nurse comes round and everyone will lift their heads

But I’m thinking of what Sarah said that “Love is watching someone die”

Stars? Won’t do it. Not anymore. We don’t know if Jordan would have sat through lottery years. We don’t know how Kobe would have really wound up if the Pau trade hadn’t gone through. But we know this. The minute a player gets a taste of success, of fame, they become addicted. And from there on out, when the team starts to die, the player is looking for the easiest way to leave the sick and dying franchise. They’re going to get theirs. I’m not judging, because it’s up to everyone how they react in that situation. They’re paid to do a job. So they get to leave when their contract ends. I’m speaking from the fans’ position. From the fans’ pBosition, this is watching someone you love tell you they’re going to be seeing other people when you’re on your way to chemo. Dwight Howard won’t watch the Magic die, because Dwight Howard doesn’t love the Magic. Not anymore.

There’s also “Someday You Will Be Loved,” which may be the most fitting feeling of the stars. It’s not that they don’t care, not that they are oblivious to the fans, the city, the kids who they’ve visited at school, the retired mothers they’ve hung out with at season ticket holder events. They’re just trapped in a situation knowing it’s not right for them. Maybe someday they’ll find a star who is content to win in nice weather and an amiable tax situation and the home of Red Lobster and Olive Garden. But it’s not him. This period was probably the last year or so, with Magic fans unable to recognize that they were dying, that Howard was leaving, that it wasn’t him, it was them.

But now? Now it’s my favorite track on the album.

“Brothers On A Hotel Bed.”

But even at our swiftest speed we couldn’t break from the concrete

In the city where we still reside.

And I have learned that even landlocked lovers yearn for the sea like navy men

Cause now we say goodnight from our own separate sides

Like brothers on a hotel bed

It’s about that moment where the relationship results in you both sharing a bed, even though you’re dead to each other. Howard has put the Magic through hell trying to make him happy and he’s still leaving. Howard is stuck in Orlando even though he wants to be elsewhere. It’s awkward and uncomfortable but mostly it’s just sad.

I’ve wondered lately if 2009 was the worst thing that could have happened to the Magic and its fans. Without 2009, the illusion that Orlando could win a title might never have really gained any semblance of being tangible. The fans would have lowered expectations. Howard would be headed elsewhere, but it wouldn’t seem so shocking. It’s not shocking to most people. Most people only see Gilbert Arenas-Vince Carter- Hedo Turkoglu (2.0) . But Otis Smith put together a Finals team. You know how many front offices have never done that?

But without 2009, Smith would just be the guy who never put Howard into the next level. Maybe this would all be easier.

But it did happen. And so here we are. With Magic fans tweeting at me about how they’re going to go get Deron Williams and the team facing an impossibly difficult locker room situation.

And you know what? Fans will still come to the games, even after he’s gone. They’ll still buy jerseys, they’ll still write blog posts, they’ll still celebrate victories in February this year or next. They’ll watch this team go down and wait for it to find someone new to build around.

Love is watching someone die.

 

The Disgrace -- Otis and Dwight

by Sean Highkin

The line Dwight Howard has been selling to the media and fans on why he wants out of Orlando is that GM Otis Smith hasn’t consulted him enough on the players he brings in. Not only is this a ridiculous demand in the first place, it’s patently false. Dwight wanted Vince Carter. Dwight wanted Hedo Turkoglu back. Dwight was opposed to the no-brainer decision to amnesty Gilbert Arenas. Smith downgraded from Brandon Bass to Big Baby because he’s buddies with Dwight. How has any of this worked out? How did any of the moves of this type that Danny Ferry made in Cleveland at LeBron’s behest work out for for keeping him?

The Magic are screwed because they’re late to the party in realizing that it’s usually better to move your disgruntled star early and get a good return than to try and persuade him to stay, and the process of adding players to please him as submarined their ability to rebuild once they do lose him. Even if they flip Dwight at the deadline for, like, Andrew Bynum, they’re still screwed in the long run because they’ll still be stuck with Hedo’s contract, not to mention overpaying to re-sign Jason Richardson and committing more years to Glen Davis than they had to Bass. And why are they in this position? Because they listened too much to Dwight Howard’s input.

A Brief Video Interlude

by Amin Vafa

Wait a sec… didn’t I just… didn’t we… but… Aw, crap. I think Agent Smith is a fan of big maorket basketball.

WILL YOU REMEMBER ME I WILL REMEMBER YOU

by Amin Vafa

How will we remember the Magic in June? Well, will we remember them in June? I know we’ll remember Dwight Howard and the way he muscled (excuse the pun) his way out the door, but will we remember a team that was deep at every position and created a mismatch for nearly every team? Will we remember them as the team that made other teams choose “well we can guard the 3-ball or we can guard Howard, but we don’t have the ability to do both?” Will we remember a team that tinkered just a little bit too much after being one almost-perfectly-executed Courtney Lee layup away from stealing a game in LA and altering the fate of the franchise going forward?

Nope. Chances are that we’ll remember Dwight Howard forcing a trade—creating a Chimera of the childish me-want-now desires of Shaq’s, LeBron’s, Melo’s, and CP3’s exits, yet somehow trying to make fans believe he’s still a nice guy. Hopefully whatever happens with this inevitable parting of ways, the Magic can get some quality assets and picks going forward.

Hey also, maybe they should trade Dwight somewhere he doesn’t want to go so they can get another good center. I hear Milwaukee’s nice this time of year, and maybe Bogut will be able to appreciate Margaritaville at Universal Studios CityWalk more than Dwight ever did [Note: I have no idea if Dwight has ever even been there, but doesn’t Bogut strike you as an aspiring Parrothead?].

I can see clearly now, the rain is gone. The lockout has lifted, we have a season, can I get an Amen? (Amen.) And in the spirit of renewal, our shiny new cadre of writers is putting together previews for all 30 teams in true HP style. From where teams are going to what their disgrace is to explorations of pop culture, we are about to rock, salute us, can I get an Amen? (Amen.) So sit back, relax, and ponder the awesomeness of this fully operational Hardwood Paroxysm 3.0. -Ed. 

A BRIEF VIDEO PRELUDE: THE END OF AN ERA

by Connor Huchton

QUO VADIMUS (WHERE ARE WE GOING?)

by Sean Highkin

For as much drama as the Blazers have endured since the end of the 2010-11 season—the inexplicable firing and straight-up non-relacement of GM Rich Cho, Paul Allen’s villain role in the lockout, the will-they-or-won’t-they Brandon Roy amnesty talk, Roy’s tragic and premature retirement, the realization that Greg Oden will probably be a non-factor once again—I’m looking at their opening-day roster and can’t help thinking they’ve actually had a pretty good offseason, compared to a lot of  Western Conference playoff teams. They picked up two low-risk veterans in Kurt Thomas and Craig Smith for next to nothing to shore up a thin frontcourt. They responded to Roy’s departure by signing his good friend Jamal Crawford, who should provide scoring punch off the bench while clearing the way for Wesley Matthews to take over the starting role full-time. They upgraded from Andre Miller to Raymond Felton at point guard. These are all smart moves, made without much long-term risk, that should make the Blazers’ transition from Brandon Roy’s team to LaMarcus Aldridge’s a lot easier to finally complete.

The Smith and Thomas signings are especially important. Aldridge blossomed into an elite two-way player last season and somehow managed to avoid any major injuries, something that can’t be said of a lot of Blazers players the past few seasons. The problem is that he also played the second-most minutes in the league last year. He did this out of necessity, with Oden out completely, Joel Przybilla coming back a shadow of his former self, Marcus Camby battling knee injuries, and Sean Marks existing. But that kind of workload isn’t at all sustainable for a big man, especially one you’re counting on to be a franchise player. In Thomas and Smith, they now have two hard-nosed, durable veterans to throw out there when Aldridge needs to rest who can be counted on to at least know what they’re doing.

How far the Blazers go this season depends on a number of players. Felton has had little trouble fitting into Nate McMillan’s rotation in the two preseason contests with Utah, and there’s no reason to believe Matthews won’t continue to improve as he did last season. Along with Aldridge, that’s three sure bets out of the major-minutes contributors. Will Gerald Wallace, who looked a step out of place after being acquired at the deadline last year, find his niche going into his first full season in Portland? Can Nicolas Batum finally become the consistent offensive threat and lockdown defender he has the physical tools to be? Will Camby stay healthy? And if so, will he be with the team all year or be flipped in March? Can rookie point guard Nolan Smith crack the rotation and become a meaningful contributor? What about athletic combo guard Elliott Williams, who missed his rookie season with a knee injury? That’s a lot of variables, but they’re the kind that are more likely to pan out than the ones Portland dealt with last year, like “Can we count on a player with Top-10 all-NBA talent but no meniscus in either knee to lead us to salvation?”

POPULAR THEORIES IN BASKETBALL-CULTURAL CROSS-REFERENCES

by Danny Chau

The Unicorns, “Let’s Get Known”

Clues, “Let’s Get Strong”

Eras are taught as concrete divisions in time. Eras begin and end with significant shifts in attitude and policy. Walls are built and destroyed. So then what do we say about this year’s Blazers? There was no structural detonation of the roster, and yet on December 9, the team’s identity for the past five seasons dissolved. Brandon Roy went on medical retirement after five years in the NBA with knees that have long gone without essential cartilage between the bones, and a fragile knee ligament stands in the way of Greg Oden’s return from basketball after more than two years of surgery and rehabilitation. Familiar faces line the Blazers bench as the team readies itself for the upcoming season. But the odd sameness of the roster can’t mask the irrevocable shift that has occurred in this team’s direction.

Five years ago, Portland was rejuvenated by the tandem of Brandon Roy and LaMarcus Aldridge, draft prospects brought in to move the team past its Jail Blazer persona. Roy’s stardom was apparent from the onset, with Aldridge’s tantalizing potential not too far behind. Fortune brought them the first overall pick in 2007, where they would select the most talked-about prospect since LeBron James and the most promising center since Yao Ming. Oden would miss the entirety of his first season due to knee surgery, but fans and pundits constantly looked down the road. This team — this triptych — would lead a future title contender. There was little doubt of that.

In 2003, The Unicorns released Who Will Cut Our Hair When We’re Gone?, their critically acclaimed sophomore album. “Let’s Get Known” is a two-minute, tongue-in-cheek gem about the prospects of fame, dripping with both naïveté and self-awareness. Alden Penner and Nick Thorburn sing of how hard work, disproving the haters, and the parallel between the abnormal strength of ants and their own underdog narrative. The Blazers were poised to make the leap. Their fate was written in black ink. Then-GM Kevin Pritchard was a mastermind, and Brandon Roy became more of a star than anyone in the organization could have anticipated. But the injuries to Greg Oden sent ominous signals that perhaps this joyride wasn’t meant to be. And who could have known that the price to pay for Roy’s superb (and relatively injury-free) second and third seasons would be the rapid disintegration of his basketball career?

A little more than a year after The Unicorns released their sophomore album, they disbanded. The price of fame and acknowledgment was a rigorous touring schedule that drove the members apart, and drove them against their fans. Penner returned in 2009, five years after leaving his old band, to form the band Clues. On their self-titled debut is a song called “Let’s Get Strong,” a morose successor to his old Unicorns song. Penner strips everything off of “Let’s Get Known” — all of the radio fuzz, strings, and percussion. With only piano accompaniment, he takes a fragment of his former song’s melody and sings a ballad that runs contrary to the youthful optimism of his former self. It’s an epitaph for The Unicorns, or the Brandon Roy era of the Blazers, whose careers can be “summed up in a language of decay.”

Penner and Thorburn have moved on, and both have their own bands. The Blazers have too. LaMarcus Aldridge, the only one left standing amongst the trio, will go into his first season as the undisputed first option on the team. While he is a lasting figure of the post-Jail Blazer era, he’ll be leading the team in a new direction; one nowhere near as fruitful as what was promised to us five years ago.

For Portland, it takes five years for an era to begin and collapse. And if there’s anything to be taken from Penner’s epitaph, it’ll take another five years to truly articulate how everything went wrong.

I’ve got wings, but they aren’t meant for viewing.

THE DISGRACE

by Scott Leedy

The Portland Trailblazers are bound to be a very good basketball team this year. Not a great team. They won’t be contending for a championship, but it’s hard not to like the personalities, and talents they’ve assembled. Blazers fans will pour their heart and soul into supporting this team, all the way through a first round exit. In and of itself, this is really nothing to be ashamed of; there’s nothing to hate about this team. It will be exciting to see what Felton can do when paired with LaMarcus Aldridge, and certainly all of Rip City is looking forward to a full year of Gerald Wallace. Still, much like the dreary but steady downpour that so often finds itself above the Portland skyline, the gloom of promise unfulfilled hangs above the franchise and its fans.

The Blazers are not a disgrace for what they are but rather for what they weren’t allowed to become. They didn’t so much fail, as they never got a chance to try. I’ve written about Brandon Roy’s injury and retirement previously, and Ben Golliver over at Blazer’s Edge wrote a fantastic retrospective on covering Roy; but all the reading and writing hasn’t really provided any relief from the hurt. The savior has fallen, and the once in a generation big man has become some cruel, twisted combination of perpetual sadness and too soon jokes.

I’m not sure where the franchise goes from here. I remember walking out of my high school summer league game to the news that Portland had received the first pick in the 2007 draft. I remember being so incredibly giddy, so excited to pair either Kevin Durant or Greg Oden with Brandon Roy and LaMarcus Aldridge. I remember adamantly demanding the Blazers draft Oden, and being very pleased when they obliged. There was an energy around the Blazers, around the city, amongst my friends; for the first time since the heartbreaking Western Conference Finals loss to the Lakers in 2000, we felt good about our team. I want to go back there, to get another chance, as if this time maybe it would be different. Alas, that buzz is gone now, replaced with an acceptance of this perverse fate. As if bitter disappointment was the only way this was ever going to end.

A BRIEF VIDEO POSTLUDE: HOPE REMAINS

by Connor Huchton