Image via churl on Flickr
1) Eat a giant burger
2) Make some Stan Van Gundy jokes
3) Antagonize haters on twitter
4) Have a sham marriage
5) Play basketball overseas
6) Get out of sham marriage
7) See the new Muppets movie
8) Get a scary injury overseas
9) Try to get out of overseas contract
10) Get your name mentioned in a Billy Joel parody
11) Dunk in a fancy suit
12) Recertify Union
13) Sign CBA
Last year, before the 2010-2011 NBA season began, Rob Mahoney provided a backdrop for an incredible year on Voice On The Floor – one far more compelling that we could have ever predicted. He listed the many wonders and spectacles we’d gawk at over the course of the season, and then he took a pause.
A jump-stop. A surge of momentum that in an instant is erased, creating a space just wide for doubt and bewilderment to creep in. It’s the maneuver Derrick Rose uses to set up impossible high-arcing floaters. But in this case, it wasn’t to create space for two points. It was an audible reenactment of what we witnessed between the momentous night of June 12, Game 6 of the NBA Finals, and the strike of midnight on July 1. The NBA had seen one of the most incredible playoff runs in NBA history and yet, in less than a month, the very existence of the best basketball league in the world was in question. Even Rose would have to admire how quickly Mahoney was able to summon devastation.
The sides of the aisle have reached a tentative agreement. An NBA season will in all likelihood happen on Christmas. If you weren’t there for the explosion on Twitter, I’m sorry. The emotion running through the flood of words and symbols was palpable. It was a celebration for a place we thought we had lost. A place — a world — unlike our own. A place that for the past four months had been ransacked by the ugliness of the real world.
To steal a line from my colleague, “But today, we escape.”
Amid the dust clouds lofting in the wreckage, the legal and financial guides and gurus we’ve leaned upon (for knowledge beyond what we’d care to digest) emerge once again as beat writers covering a beloved sport. Maybe things will never be the same for these writers. Surely eating mutant pizza and staring at walls will change a person. With the threat of a new legal war every six years, can these reporters just go back to writing about the game without the superfluous elements? Something tells me they can’t wait to find out.
I’m happy for one of my dearest friends who can return to some financial stability as a Staples Center worker. I’m happy for everyone who will be resuming employment due to the announcement. I’m happy for the rookies who will get to live out their dreams in the same year that they were drafted. I’m happy for the veterans who can continue to add to their achievements and legacies. Cynicism has run rampant for months now, but it won’t be too long before we can reclaim our innocence, our pure love for the game. I’m happy we have our escape back. For all of this, let us rejoice.
The season is near, everyone. Let the sunshine in.
(And just like that, a sliver of hope.)
It’d be a real Christmas miracle. Let’s make it happen.
We’ve scoured the box score. We’ve generally figured out the best ways to manipulate game logs and lineup data. We’ve worked and re-worked the same numbers, and it’s become abundantly clear that the next analytic evolution will need to be drawn from a new well.
Rob Mahoney, Special to SI.com, “Time to take advanced defensive stats to next level in basketball”
If you haven’t read Rob Mahoney’s piece on SI today, I highly suggest you do so. Even for the non-stat-savvy among us, this piece is worth your time. Rob not only does a fantastic job of outlining how close we are to being able to analyze something as seemingly ambiguous as defensive prowess, but he also lays out how the field of statistical analysis needs to proceed to bring our understanding of defensive basketball statistics to the level of offensive basketball statistics and baseball statistics in general.
To me, though, the most important part of Rob’s piece is how it directly hits the crux of why basketball (and to an extent, sports in general) is so fascinating to many of us: How do you objectively value something that elicits a subjective emotional response within you? No one says “God I love Dirk so much because his PER is off the charts!” But we use metrics like PPG, clutchness, and PER to try to put into facts why we love what we love. That way, when individual passion morphs into competition between yourself and an opposing fan, you’ve got statistical ammunition to send his/her way. You’re right: Your player is awesome, and you’ve got the facts to back it up. Count the ringz? Please. Count the WARP, hijo! Just kidding, but you know what I mean. (Note: I’m only sort of kidding.)
This search for objectivity also puts fans in a unique place when judging player value on another plane: salary. I think most fans can agree that players should be able to earn what they are worth. This worth depends on many factors, three of the most important being how full the talent pool is with similar players (or market size), how much a team needs such a player (for whatever purpose they deem necessary), and how much an owner is willing to invest in such a player (or market value). Owners and GMs have been known to shoot themselves (and the future solvency of their franchises) in the foot with bad bets and arbitrary valuations of players. The fan is also tied up on this end: thanks to my dumb owner/GM, my team is handcuffed to mediocrity and luxury tax for the next 5 years.
Eventually, I’d like to see these two types of objective valuations (ability and salary) merging. Obviously, salary is already based mostly on ability (among a host of other factors), but if owners and players can come to terms on a rigorously objective methodology to evaluate player talent, how could each side argue in good faith about the fairness of salary composition in either direction? If a player has an O score between 25 and 30 and a D score between 22 and 27, then they could be entitled to a salary in the range of 7-10 million, depending on market size, a team’s 5-year average winning percentage, and whether or not the bidding team is in an income-tax-free state. This completely fabricated scale makes total logical sense, doesn’t it?
Now, in a highly contentious atmosphere–where owners compete against players, owners compete against owners, players compete against players, and agents and lawyers take sides as needed–subjectivity will continue to outweigh objectivity for the foreseeable future. After all, it’s the subjective nature of salary structures and markets that allow all these parties to make their money on the margins: players make the salary, agents take a cut, owners make money on their investments in players, and lawyers step in to keep everyone on their toes. Introducing an objective salary scale might take away all the margins that these parties like. Less risk, less reward, even. But when we risk losing an entire season to something as subjective as ego, it may be worth drawing ideas from another well.
Image via Terry McCombs on Flickr
When it comes to hero worship, American sports fans are pretty well-versed. We like to lock onto certain images of heroes: a buzzer-beater, a touchdown pass, a penalty kick. We focus on the moments that make us warm inside, that instill us with pride. We know that what they did wasn’t done for us, but we were there when it happened, and it made us feel so good, so the least we can do is pay our hero back with some mild idolatry: posters, cards, youtube mixtapes. Anything will do, really, as long as it ties the moment to the hero and us to the moment.
Over the past few weeks, two of my (and everyone else’s) childhood basketball heroes have been prominent in the spotlight during this non-season. Two weeks ago was the 20th anniversary of Magic Johnson’s announcement that he had HIV and that he was retiring from the game of basketball. A lot of NBA writers have talked about where they were, how they felt at that moment, and how basketball and basketball stardom changed from that point forward. I was 6 years old. Most of my knowledge of Magic’s abilities comes from collecting cards and posters, playing video games, and vicariously idolizing what my older cousins idolized. I was aware of the Dream Team and his legacy of winning, but the most lasting effect of Magic’s retirement for me at the time wasn’t so much in relation to basketball, but to HIV awareness. As a first grader, I knew almost nothing about HIV/AIDS, but I was quickly forced to learn about it via Nickelodeon, where a kids news show I watched (“Nick News W5″) demonstrated how to put condoms on bananas. In the twenty years since his announcement, I’ve learned a lot more about HIV/AIDS, as has the rest of the world. I don’t think we’d be in the same place as a society if we weren’t forced to deal with this issue in such a public forum–forced to dispel fears and stereotypes of the unknown and really educate ourselves. In addition to helping build awareness on that front, Magic has been a presence around the NBA and television for years (we tend to highlight his commentating and overlook his poorly-executed TV show), and has been involved in lots of charity work.
The other childhood hero is, of course, Michael Jordan. He’s best known as being the (disputed) greatest player of all time. He hasn’t done much commentating and we’re not as privy to his post-playing charity work as we are to Magic’s, but we do tend to highlight his fantastic line of footwear, his flexible-fabric undergarments, and his golf-outings. He’s been in the press these past few weeks for a wholly different reason than Magic has. As one of the “hardline” owners in the NBA lockout, MJ has reportedly been pushing a very anti-player line; some say he’s being surprisingly hypocritical, while others contend he’s being consistently Michael. Either way, his harsh tone smacks firmly against all the heroic moments of his that we want to cherish, and instead bring to the fore all his negative traits like poor GM-ing abilities and prickly personality that make essays like this seem 100% plausible. I’ll let @netw3rk take it from here:
He’s been trolling us all these long years; we just haven’t recognized it until now. First it was baseball and the sneaker-buying predilections of the GOP and its supporters. Then it was the Hitler ‘stache and acid wash mom jeans. Now it’s MJ’s role as a hardliner, pushing for the players to receive a 47 percent split of revenue and practically inviting the reference to his famous “sell your team” comment to Abe Pollin during the last lockout. But all of that is in character, you see, because Michael has never cared what anyone thinks; he knows you care and that’s what makes hitting the game-winner in your face that much sweeter. He becomes, arguably, the biggest winner in this morass with his Godfather to end all Godfather moves: putting the last fruitful years of Kobe’s career in jeopardy as he chases that sixth title and legitimate comparisons to MJ.
Jason Concepcion, NBA Lockout Winners and Losers (so far): Michael Jordan Rides Again
Now, it’s not to say that what MJ and MJ did after their playing days ended should influence how we perceive them as players. But hero worship works so much better when you have one set of images to build around. With Magic, it’s pretty easy these days: he’s no longer has a financial stake in an NBA team, and he’s a generally positive presence on Twitter. With Michael, I just hope it starts to get a little bit easier.
Image via ndanger on Flickr
We’re now in what-should-be the fourth week of the NBA season, and we’re still without any basketball. Well, sure, there are charity games. And games in China. And college basketball. But at the risk of sounding too much like Andy Rooney (RIP big fella), there’s something different about being able to come home in the evening and enjoy watching a sport on your couch, without having to pre-determine the promoter’s exhibition schedule, the time zone, the grainy feed, or which grandparents’ alma mater you like more on that day.
But that something hasn’t happened since June. So every morning, I check the interwebz to see if anything has changed from the day before. Then I check back a couple hours later to see if anything changed from a couple hours before. Then I check back a few more times. At this point, I know nothing’s different, but sometimes I’ll get roped into a fun conversation on twitter about NBA athlete allegories to 1990s popular culture. And by “roped into” I mean “unnecessarily start.” But more often than not, it means “interject myself into the conversation uninvited.”
Every day I go through this new routine, pointing my eyes and ears toward New York/Seacaucus, waiting for some news to trickle its way down from beat writers, columnists, and other people whose livelihoods depend on the existence of a sport whose players and owners want to keep lobbing ego grenades at one another. When the blasts clear, all we seem to have is confirmation from sources of lots of talking, lots of disagreement, and lots of waiting.
ESTRAGON:People are bloody ignorant apes. (He rises painfully, goes limping to extreme left, halts, gazes into distance off with his hand screening his eyes, turns, goes to extreme right, gazes into distance. Vladimir watches him, then goes and picks up the boot, peers into it, drops it hastily.)
VLADIMIR:Pah! (He spits. Estragon moves to center, halts with his back to auditorium.)
ESTRAGON:Charming spot. (He turns, advances to front, halts facing auditorium.) Inspiring prospects. (He turns to Vladimir.) Let’s go.
VLADIMIR:We can’t.
ESTRAGON:Why not?
VLADIMIR:We’re waiting for Godot.
ESTRAGON:(despairingly). Ah! (Pause.) You’re sure it was here?
VLADIMIR:What?
ESTRAGON:That we were to wait.
VLADIMIR:He said by the tree. (They look at the tree.) Do you see any others?
ESTRAGON:What is it?
VLADIMIR:I don’t know. A willow.
ESTRAGON:Where are the leaves?
VLADIMIR:It must be dead.
ESTRAGON:No more weeping.
VLADIMIR:Or perhaps it’s not the season.
-Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot
On Saturday, Etan “The Bard” Thomas laid into NBA owners in an Op-Ed to ESPN. I’m not going to go into detail about the post (Matt did a great job answer all of Etan’s questions here), but I will point out two things.
1) Etan Thomas does not appear to be a fan of Michael Jordan at this point in time. Two of the questions specifically deal with his (and presumably much of the NBPA and the players’) distaste with how Michael Jordan has been handling his lockout-related tenure as owner of the Bobcats. It was also not lost on many of us readers that there were 23 questions asked.
2) Thomas called out reporters for giving fans “false hope.”
During recent negotiations, reporters continuously tweeted and wrote articles citing “anonymous sources” saying that we were closer to a deal then we actually were, or that progress was being made. Why do reporters keep giving false hope to fans?
“NBA Labor-Negotiation Questions,” by Etan Thomas, Special to ESPN.com
Matt lays into Etan for this one:
Woah, woah, woah, there, Mr. Thomas. This has made me nuts all week. The sports media has never been as friendly to you as they have been throughout this process. You don’t want people questioning why it is that you’re paid as much as you are to play a game? How about you not question the hard work that has proven to be responsible on the part of a group of journalists who wanted to cover you guys actually dribbling and shooting instead of wandering in and out of meetings in sweaters and hoodies? (Not you, Mr. Thomas, your taste in suits has been impeccable. Speaking of which, where’d you get that vest last week?) The NBA media has repeatedly pointed out to the public you’re not the ones who started this, you’re not the ones being unreasonable. So why do you insist on repeatedly coming after them just because it’s convenient? It’s cheap, easy, and reeks of hypocrisy after your comments about not coming after athletes in labor talks just because they’re paid well.
“Dear Mr. Thomas: A response to Etan Thomas’ Op-Ed,” by Matt Moore at ProBasketballTalk
I may be biased here, but I’ve got to side with Matt on this one. Just like that baby in the video, we fans would be crying all the time if we didn’t get our momentary peace of mind. We all have our ways of coping, our tiny things that make us feel better. Some babies listen to Biggie. Some NBA fans need snippets of news that tell them their season will be arriving sooner rather than later. People like hope. And as much as Matt has been on the record for disliking hope, I think we can all agree that the reporters of the lockout have been doing a fantastic job of relaying information, managing expectations, and keeping us all sane. And most of them do it with little to no pizza.
Keep up the good work, reporter-folks. Thanks for doing what you do.
httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n_igY-nCrcw
If some ego-destroying miracle were to happen and the lockout ended this week, the league would be pushing for the season to start on December 15th for a 72-game season. The regular season would end a week later than usual, thus pushing the end of the playoffs a week later as well. If more rest time is given for the playoffs, then the Finals could end even later. On the conservative end, we would be looking at the NBA Finals scheduled through the 3rd week of June.
Now on paper, I’d love to see 72 games played + a full set of playoffs that takes me later into the summer and helps me avoid watching the Indians and/or the Nationals strive for mediocrity. Plus after all the waiting, boredom, and stress we basketball fans had to endure during the lockout, it’d be fantastic if the impact on the season’s length was minimal.
However, a 72-game season starting in mid-December is a TERRIBLE idea. Today is November 14th. If the season were to start December 15th, that would mean the league has 31 days to do 1) Free Agency, 2) training camp, and 3) pre-season. Then they’d have to start playing meaningful games. Games that affect playoff and draft positioning. Back to back to back games that would tire starters out to the point where all those people that prefer college basketball to the NBA would be able to point to games being played without defense and say “Hey look! NBA players don’t play defense!” And they’d be right (OH THE HUMANITY)! Because who in their right mind, with being as tired as they would be, wouldn’t save some energy on a jog back downcourt? Kurt Helin said it best:
What we saw in 1999 was guys who got tired and it showed more on the defensive end. Basically, things got sloppy. This is a longer version of that so expect more guys missing games with minor injuries, and expect some stretches of play where coaches will want to burn the tape (if they still used tape).
“What does a 72-game season look like? Packed like sardines, ProBasketballTalk
Starting a season too quickly after a lockout also means that players that normally would have been in the care of arguably the world’s best physical trainers are coming back to play without being fully recovered from the past season. Just ask Chris Cooley, an athlete whose sport also underwent a lockout this past year:
I feel 100 percent that I’m a casualty for the season of the lockout… I think it was a shame that they didn’t let players who had surgery spend time with the doctors and trainers they trust on daily basis, I wish I could’ve.
“Chris Cooley: Lockout cost me season,” Associated Press via ESPN.com
A similar season-condensing mistake was made because of the 1999 lockout, and asterisk-loving critics everywhere don’t give that season and its accolades due credit. Oh, and lets not forget that extending the playoffs later into June reduces the amount of training time that USA Basketball gets before the London Olympics begin on July 27th.
As much as it pains me to say it, this is too much basketball over too few months. I prefer quality over quantity. I like getting bang for my buck. I’m a reasonable man. Get off my case.
The big fish eat the little ones,
The big fish eat the little ones,
Not my problem give me some.
Good news everyone! Radiohead is going on tour in 2012!
via Consequence of Sound, here are the dates so far:
02/27 – Miami, FL @ American Airlines Arena
02/29 – Tampa, FL @ St. Pete Times Forum
03/01 – Atlanta, GA @ Philips Arena
03/03 – Houston, TX @ Toyota Center
03/05 – Dallas, TX @ American Airlines Center
03/07 – Austin, TX @ Frank Erwin Center
03/09 – St. Louis, MO @ Scottrade Center
03/11 – Kansas City, MO @ Sprint Center
03/13 – Broomfield, CO @ 1stBank Center
03/15 – Glendale, AZ @ Jobing.com Arena
There are two things to glean from this list:
1) Radiohead loves small markets in the Central and Mountain time zones.
2) The dates in the larger markets fall firmly within the NBA season.
Now, the dates may not match up exactly with NBA game nights, but it certainly is a gut-check to those of us who were looking forward to an NBA schedule in those months (though I’ll still be looking forward to Radiohead coming to DC during that tour).
Bonus annoyance! According to my good friend @JeffreyMervosh, the “online transaction” fees for purchasing tickets are at least as high as $17.25, on top of $60-ish ticket prices. (Perhaps arena owners and their ticket distributors are trying to offset costs from lack of NBA ticket sales. That’s pure speculation, but I’m OK with admitting that.)
(H/T @LeeStuck, for the CoS article, getting me into Radiohead, and bringing the NBA back into my life after a long hiatus)
