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.

Hubble Space Telescope still doing work, y'all! (NASA)

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:

Be motivated! be ready! Be productive! Be on time! You don't want to show up to a home game in away uniform, inshape but the game is over!

December 14, 2011 12:37 pm via TweetCaster for AndroidReplyRetweetFavorite

@SilkkTheShocker

Silkk The Shocker

[flash http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d5ZvzIOO6aU w=600 h=400]

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!

Photo by NimrodCooper on Flickr

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.

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I483tB12SyE

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

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lcwCnxOrA0M&feature=related

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.

Photo by shehal via Flickr

Quo Vadimus (Where Are We Going?)

by Andrew Lynch

For the next six months, no one in Phoenix is going anywhere, despite the desires of a majority of NBA fans. At this point, the Suns front office – which insists that they will not trade Steve Nash, and in fact are hoping to re-sign him at the end of the season – is holed up like an adorable British comedy troupe against a zombie horde pouring through the window. And for once, the zombies have nothing to do with Vince Carter. Much like the situation in Orlando, the outlook in Phoenix is rooted in how much longer the team’s linchpin will still be in town. And just like with the Magic, there is no clear right answer for the Suns when it comes to how to handle their star player.

At first glance, Nash made this incredibly easy for Phoenix by publicly acknowledging his affinity for the organization and the community alongside his appreciation for loyalty and his teammates. It’s likely true, however, that the best course of action is to trade the team’s best player – not out of some misguided sense of obligation or to facilitate Nash getting a ring, but to get out of “can we get the 8th seed?” limbo. That represents a best-case scenario this year, if everyone stays healthy, Marcin Gortat and Jared Dudley continue to develop and improve, and no one else regresses any further. And with Nash and Grant Hill in the starting lineup and carrying a heavy load for a team whose depth gives new meaning to the phrase “replacement level,” health can’t be taken for granted – even with the Warlocks omnipresent and omnipotent.

I’ve argued in the past that many fans in Phoenix are okay with not competing for a title every year, so long as the team is entertaining. But that balance is predicated on the idea that the Suns can at least compete for the Western Conference Finals if everything falls into place. When that goal is clearly out of reach, it’s best to blow things up and start all over. It’s not that Nash deserves better than this – the Suns do, too. NBA Purgatory isn’t entertaining, no matter how many times Nash and company take our breath away.

Popular Theories In Emerging Basketball-Cultural Cross-References: The Frolar Eclipse

by Curtis Harris

Before you read any further, press play on the video below, youngblood. It’ll make mentally concise all the heaviness I’m trying to lay on you.

[flash http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P99MejBjsb8 w=300 h=275]

Truck Turner’s Travel Jive Dictionary defines a “frolar eclipse” as “a phenomenon caused by the total or partial obscuring of the sun by a particularly fly blow-out.” Brothers and sisters, the Suns of Phoenix have got themselves one slick, stone cold mutha with an afro that eclipses our celestial, solar fireball from here to Soulsville. Sure, sunlight is cool, but it ain’t no drag being in the shade of a towering monument to the power of soul. That Josh Childress has an afro that’s sho nuff clean and so far outta sight it’s like trying to look before you can see. It’s such a gasss you could reanimate James Brown’s corpse from its energy.

May Soul Brother #1 rest in peace.

Childress’ opulent and glamorous ‘do ain’t the least bit tired or prone to usurpation by suckas. Ain’t ever been a jive turkey able to bust loose with a follicle masterpiece such as that. Its spherical perfection is second only to the sight of Julius Erving glidin’ and his afro profilin’ while he flew to the basket back in ’77.

Now on the flip side, that sucka Childress ain’t done a damn thing since splittin’ Atlanta a few years ago.  If you wanna see the bottom of something fall out, just peep the sorry free throw percentage he had shooting the rock. Down to forty-nine point two from eighty point seven, this cat’s free throw shootin’ horrified all the angels in heaven. I hope this  papa ain’t pay for the brand new bag of game he’s holding now. It’s more of a mess than Carl Lewis tryin’ to sing. If he keeps up with that same ol’ same ol’ jive time ballin’ he had last year, that fool gonna find himself washed up in a hot minute.

He can keep on keepin’ on with that fro, though. He’s playin’ awful but he’s lookin’ pretty clean doin’ it.

Video Interlude: A Look Inside Running the Suns

by Curtis Harris

Steve Nash is Frank Grimes. Robert Sarver is Homer Simpson. The erlenmeyer flask full sulfuric acid is Sarver attempting to trade Marcin Gortat for three future 2nd round picks. Sadly, Nash undergoes this exercise about 5 times a month until the trade deadline.

[flash http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dVcFjbI5DlA w=600 h=400]

Who Wants to Start a Cult About Shannon Brown?

by Curtis Harris

Is there anything this man can’t do?

When you think of people who marry up, Brown has to be high on that list by virtue of marrying RnB singer Monica. Sure she hasn’t had a hit a years, but that’s quite a conversation starter at cocktail parties! On the court, Mr. Brown just shimmies and shakes and throws down with the best of them. The kid can flat out dunk. He must have flubber adhered to the soles of his shoes. And his free throw shooting is some of the best you’ll ever see. When the game is on the line, you want Shannon stepping up to the line to hit those freebies.

Wait, what’s that? You say he can’t dribble? Hmm, I guess that is sort of a problem for a guard. But his free throw shooting surely translates to a pure stroke in other situations. What’s that? It doesn’t? Oh dear. You mean he’s a shooting guard who can’t shoot? Or worse a SG converted into a PG? At least Phoenix signed him for a minimum contra…. HE SIGNED FOR $3.5 MILLION?!

Dandy. Just dandy. We went from the happiness of dancing clowns to an inferno of disappointment. Put down the Kool-Aid. The Shannon Brown Cult stinks.

Will You Remember Me, I Will Remember You

by Amina Vafa

The “Setting Suns” headline will be bandied about a lot this season, especially towards its end, when it is more certain that this Suns team won’t make the playoffs. They made a few changes in the offseason that were supposed to help boost the defense: a new defensive-minded assistant coach (Elston Turner) and the re-signing of Grant Hill. They’ve added depth at the forward (Markieff Morris) and guard (Bassy Telfair and Shannon Brown) positions, but come June, we’ll remember the Suns less for what they did (or didn’t accomplish) in this shortened season, and more for what their playoff-less summer will hold: franchise-altering uncertainty.

With the Clippers on the rise and the Suns not making the playoffs last year, it’s going to be difficult to imagine this team in the postseason. A shame, considering it could be Steve Nash’s last–at least his last in Phoenix. This is the last year of his contract. Fifteen year veteran and face of the franchise Steve Nash.

I’m not really thinking about it… I just want to try to make this team into a playoff team. At this stage of my career, I’m not thinking about tomorrow. I’m just thinking about today.

- Steve Nash

Even if you’re not thinking about it, Steve, we all are. And we will be from now through next summer, when your fate will be more certain. If the Suns are teetering on a playoff spot at the end of the season, your career legacy will be all the more highlighted: “Sunset for Steve?” they’ll ask. Maybe, maybe not. But thanks to the free agency movement of the past two years, the lack of Hall of Fame PGs in NY and Miami, your relationship with D’Antoni & Amare, and the fact that you haven’t won a title in your career…people will want to know where you’re going. Will you retire? Or will you move to a city where you’ll put a contending team over the top? Will you get that ever-elusive ring? Will you measure your legacy differently if you don’t? Will we?

If you weren’t a household name before, you sure as hell will be by July. I don’t think you’ll need a primetime special to let us know what you’re doing, Steve, but if you did, I’d watch.

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.

Photo by FurryScalyMan on Flickr

Quo Vadimus (Where Are We Going?)

By Danny Chau

The Hawks will go wherever Josh Smith takes them.

Wait, what?

The Hawks will go wherever Josh Smith takes them.

Al Horford is their best player, Joe Johnson is their most experienced leader, and Jeff Teague is their brightest glimmer of sunshine. But they don’t matter as much as Smith, because everyone else on the roster is safe. With the snap of a finger, Josh Smith could be traded. Teams would bend over backwards to obtain a player with his superior size, athleticism, defensive ability, playmaking ability, and post skills still in his mid-20s. Now if you close your eyes and let all of those traits swirl around in your head, you have a damn-near-perfect player. The problem is, if you’ve ever watch Josh Smith play outside of the five-minute YouTube mixes, you’ll know that he can go entire quarters without exhibiting any (ANY!) of those traits.

He’s 6’9”, 250 with the Hulk’s leaping ability and yet he isn’t above airballing runners in the lane. He has the speed, the nimbleness, and the footwork (learned from the best there is in Hakeem Olajuwon) to be a completely dominant post scorer, but he is eerily content with firing long range two-pointers. Oh sure, he eliminated the three-pointer from his game a few years back. That doesn’t do you any favors if you replace that shot with one that is equally as ineffective AND doesn’t net you as many points. The three-point shot may be poisonous for guys like Smith, but at least it’s seductive. The long two is just paint in a brown bag. The benefits are scant, and you look stupid doing it.

Hardwood Paroxysm has always found inspiration in the hyper-athletic big man. They hold a world of potential, and only a handful actually become something worth admiring. But that’s okay. The pro game is hard, and there is more to basketball than running and jumping and having telephone poles as arms. Some never develop the skills they need to ascend. That isn’t Josh Smith. He has all the tools and all the skills. He knows how effective he is in the paint. He knows how good of a passer he can be. He knows how to play team-oriented defense without sacrificing animalistic intensity.

When it all comes together, we get Game 4 of last season’s second round matchup with the Chicago Bulls. But we don’t get it enough. To see his percentages dip into the 20 and 30 percents is infuriating. It’s inexplicable. It needs to be met with a swift death. Because the Hawks don’t have a lot of time. You can only boil molasses for so long before it becomes inedible carbon.

And that’s why Jeff Teague has become such a darling, and why we’re all eager to see him revitalize this team. Because he’s actually willing to penetrate the defense. Because his runners and floaters actually go in. Because last season, he wasn’t safe. He played like he didn’t know when his next large dosage of playing time would come. That’s refreshing to see from a team with so much talent squandered by long twos.

It’s time for Josh Smith to do the same. Smith isn’t safe anymore. If he doesn’t find some consistency to his game and realize what it is that makes him such an incredibly unique player, he’ll be shipped as soon as March. You have this season to figure it out, Josh. Whatever happens, just know: the Hawks go where you take them.

THE DISGRACE

by Amin Vafa

You know what sucks about Atlanta? Everything. And Nothing. That’s just it: you can’t predict what the Hawks will or won’t do. You never know what to expect when you see them on the court. Will Josh Smith take a three-pointer with twenty seconds left on the shotclock, or will he keep LeBron from scoring more than ten points? They have a lot of talent, so you know they’ll make the playoffs (especially in the Eastern Conference, where it’s often hard to fill all eight spots on the bracket). But what do you have going forward? A massive Joe Johnson contract, a failed sale in the offseason, an almost-palpable apathy from everyone but almighty Al Horford. But this team has talent. Lots and lots of raw talent. So basically what you have in Atlanta is a roster with tons of raw talent, an immobile franchise-player-level contract, and erratic energy that will most certainly play the ugliest two rounds of playoff basketball you’ve ever seen (this coming year and in years past). But at least they figured out you could beat the Magic by playing well against every position and going one-on-one against Dwight with a Collins (any ol’ Collins will do). A lot of good that’ll do them when they’re not facing Dwight a guaranteed four times per year after this year.

POPULAR THEORIES IN EMERGING BASKETBALL-CULTURAL CROSS-REFERENCES

by Amin Vafa

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2QWQVm9J5DM&ob=av2e

Ludacris! Season-ticket owner of the Atlanta Hawks! Maybe they should sign him to play a few minutes every night instead of T-Mac  and Jannero Pargo.

Let’s Start A Cult About: Jeff Teague

By James Herbert

Danny already said it up there. We love Jeff Teague because he’s not safe. We’d start a cult about Teague because, on a team we’re not particularly excited about, he gives us a reason to tune in. He’s extraordinarily quick, he’s actually drives to the basket, he plays defense, and, unlike the rest of the Hawks roster, we’re not sure where his ceiling is.

Heading into the second round of the 2011 playoffs, it was hard to say anything definitive about Teague’s prospects as an NBA player. He’d played aggressive D in limited time, but he’d never been given the keys to the offense. This could be called completely insane when, for a while, his only competition was Mike Bibby, but his performance in those spot minutes only hinted that he needed a bigger role. They didn’t demand one. We could see that he had potential if he could improve his decision-making, but perhaps because he was on such a short leash, he didn’t look like the same player he was at Wake Forest.

You know what happened in the Bulls series. Against the best defense in the league, our hero broke out. With Kirk Hinrich hurt, his play was imbued with the confidence of ten Nick Van Exels. Fearless, he got into the middle of the paint with ease, finished near-impossible shots, and gave Hawks fans hope. All we could do was watch in awe and then write songs about it. And come up with puns.

Teague’s emergence made the Hawks interesting in May. Now it’s December and the biggest question surrounding them is if he’ll pick up where he left off. The Cult of Jeff Teague believes he will.

WILL YOU REMEMBER ME I WILL REMEMBER YOU

by Amin Vafa

In June, we’ll remember the Hawks the exact same way we’ve remembered them every offseason since they unexpectedly took Boston to seven games in 2008’s first round of the playoffs: full of potential, but not capitalizing on it. Atlanta needs a major roster shakeup. They need to unload their contracts and start over. Trade Josh Smith to a team that needs a scoring PF. Trade JJ to a team that needs a reliable SG, but doesn’t need him to be the centerpiece. Or amnesty his giant contract so you can both move on. Keep Teague, clear the cap, stockpile picks, and move forward. Move on with your life. Playoff basketball is fun, but this “well I guess a 4-seed is cool, but they’re not going to ever win a championship” thing is just a tease.

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 Connor Huchton

There are almost too many things to say about the reinvented 2010-2011 Clippers, but not enough words in existence to bring these tangential thoughts into eloquent and literal form. They are the new NBA excitement, the forthcoming unknown, and already too much fun.

After the Clippers traded for Chris Paul (losing Eric Gordon and a 2012 first round pick, namely), a superstar oft-forgotten by many in recent years (until his terrific reemergence in last year’s playoffs), the identity of the entire league changed. Slowly, any controversy surrounding the Paul trade dissipated from public thought as possibility sprung forth and leapt into the mind of basketball fans. Chris Paul to Blake Griffin? The league’s premier passer to its most exciting dunker? This kind of pairing doesn’t happen in the tangible sports world. It’s dreamed about in various Steve Nash trade scenarios, its considered in the wondering minds of late-night dreamers, but it rarely comes to fruition. And yet it did, forcing those possibilities that once seemed hardly possible to become a scrutinized reality.

A media circus awaits the New Clippers as the 2011-2012 season begins. They’re the “new” team, and maybe the best one in L.A, so frenzy will take precedence over anything else in coverage of the team.

It’s always interesting when possibility, and not immediacy, controls the prevailing opinion of a team’s makeup. These Clippers shouldn’t be viewed as a championship team (save that for next year), but the possession of two stars, a former star, and one of the best young big men in the league allow for an “anything is possible” expectation to form in a lockout-effected world.

Sure, the Clippers desperately need a backup center, and their bench is far from ideal (though competent in some areas). They have 35 starting-caliber point guards on the roster, and will continue to rely on Ryan Gomes and Randy Foye for significant minutes.

But, in spite of weaknesses, the Clippers have opened up possibilities to a level the team has never before reached or even been capable of reaching. It’s a once-in-generation chance, a chance that is just beginning to form in reality. It’ll start with two years of increasing success and highlights and pure basketball-watching joy, but what it could end with (championships, a dynasty, a new era of basketball) is far more exciting than the momentary possibility dreamed of today.

Popular Trends in Basketball-Cultural Cross-References: Rebecca Black’s “My Moment”

by Sean Highkin

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2OxWD85Ngz4

When Rebecca Black’s “Friday” video went viral in March, it was universally derided as a joke, just as the Los Angeles Clippers have been for their entire experience. In both cases, the backlash has been mostly warranted. Last year, the Clippers began to shake that image when Blake Griffin emerged as the most electrifying player in the league. But they still didn’t make the playoffs, just as 14-year-old Rebecca’s attempt to silence her haters by singing “Friday” without autotune didn’t actually prove much about her singing ability.