I Don't Know That Asking LeBron About The Passing Of Gregg Popovich's Wife In The Postgame Was Right Or Wrong, But It Sure Was Uncomfortable And Unnecessary
I don't mean to...ahem...interrupt, but doesn't LeBron James have his very own media company? That he uses to publicly portray his thoughts and opinions on things that either interest him or effect him? And he can do so whenever he chooses, thus making it easier for him to remain clear-headed in having full control of his message? I mean, watching him struggle to find the words for an opposing head coach that was probably mourning the passing of his wife of four decades as opposed to tuning into TNT's postgame coverage was super satisfying and all, but I can't help but feel like there was a more appropriate time, place, and platform for a commiseration than on a basketball court seconds after the subject went from dropping 40+ to being delivered heartbreaking news.
Well, well, well....would you look at that?!
To be clear, I'm glad that LeBron James cleared both the air and the name of a reporter in promising that she didn't just drop death on his doorstep during live television, but - somehow, someway - the fact that he already knew prior to the camera rolling then acted shocked when notified on-air makes that whole scene even more awkward.
I don't blame LeBron James, clearly he wasn't going to turn down the opportunity to offer his compassion to Pop. I don't blame Allie LaForce, clearly she wasn't going to say no after he had already said yes to giving her a stirring soundbite. Hell, I don't even fully blame the producer for what comes off as an awful attempt at a ratings grab. It's not like there is some obvious formulaic way in which you're supposed to deal with a situation this rare, so - procedurally speaking - I'm not at liberty to say if this was handled right or wrong.
I am, however, at liberty to say that, in retrospect, it was handled so uncomfortably that it managed to unite the entirety of the most disagreeable of viewing audiences. I can't imagine there's one person that came away from that interview saying to themselves "that was far more enlightening than it was excruciating!", and that's the bare minimum bar that should be met by the asking of relatively impromptu condolences. No one ever has the words they want or need in the immediate wake of disastrous news, so hopefully TNT - and every other broadcast network, for that matter - learned that the respect to be lost far outweighs the content to be gained. All they got was a rough draft of LeBron's thoughts and prayers, and now were talking about the untimeliness of them instead of the tragic passing of someone who was beloved by both her universally respected husband of 40 years and the rest of the NBA family.
Despite Getting Worked By Him In Back-To-Back Playoff Games, Eric Bledsoe Pretended Not To Know Of The Name Terry Rozier
And there you have it, further proof that timing is, and always has been, everything. The truth is, I don't hate that Eric Bledsoe felt some type of way about Terry Rozier's seemingly innocent botching of his first name that crossed both sports and race (as seen below). What makes the NBA the best soap opera on the planet is how thin the skin and how tightly held the grudges are of those that compete in it...
In theory, it makes sense for him to return fire at a player that isn't as accomplished and only starting out of necessity who, albeit accidentally, bruised his ego. Unfortunately, he's literally never had less ammunition than he did after getting taken to the woodshed for the second straight postseason game and having what could have potentially been a mismatch receive the Freaky Friday treatment. Seeing as he's spent far too much time staring at nameplate of the Celtics' guard, he knows exactly who Terry Rozier is. Pretending he doesn't, whether it was reactionary or not, somehow makes him look both worse and less situationally aware than this play did and I didn't even think that was possible...
Bury the disproportional amount of hate if you so choose, but you simply can't release it publicly when you're getting crossed into an early offseason by a player who's bolstering the name you can't seem to recall at your expense. So, perhaps it would have been wise for the person who begged his way onto a playoff team to average more than 10 points per game on more than 30-something percent shooting for a team that's better than 0-for-2 against a vulnerable opponent before limping into a petty war with someone who's currently armed and dangerous...
An Undisclosed NBA Owner Reportedly Ripped Into His Head Coach For Sabotaging His Self Sabotage By Winning A Meaningless Game
LBS- In the latest edition of his podcast with Bobby Marks, ESPN’s Adrian Wojnarowski spoke about how rampant tanking was across the league during the final weeks of the regular season. According to Woj, one NBA owner went off on his head coach after his team beat a quality opponent on the road.
“There were teams literally signing G League players, intentionally bringing up guys they knew could not play in the NBA because they were determined to lose games,” Wojnarowski said. “I never heard more talk from front office executives — frustration with coaches who were winning games they didn’t want them to win. And owners, I know of an instance of an owner berating — really berating — his coach here in the last several weeks of the season for going in and beating a pretty good team on the road and going, ‘What are you doing?’”
Ah, to be a fly on the wall in a office in which an owner was giving his head coach the business for choosing the worst possible time to actually do his job admirably. I can only imagine a tongue lashing that almost assuredly would read something like "What good are you? You can't even fucking lose right!" if transcribed would have been an absolute hoot to witness live.
What I find even more fascinating, however, is the idea that said fly probably would have been buzzing up a goddamn storm on a light fixture in support of ownership if he happened to be a diehard fan of the team whose front office he infiltrated. Forget how you feel about tanking for a second, and focus on the fact that the priorities of the paying customer and franchise proprietor typically line up about as well Kevin Durant's haircut. Remaining adamant in actively creating a losing culture does a lot of things, but it doesn't make for a short term financial gain. Yet, here was this hero, bearing the cross for his dwindling number of clients that continue to purchase $10 beers to make it easier to stomach silently rooting that their shitty, hopeless team experiences the darkest of times to shorten the road to a luminescent future.
It took a money man becoming incensed by a head coach that sabotaged his team's self-sabotage (aka won) that he went out of his way to reprimand him, but a billionaire actually managed to become relatable to your average, every day sports fan that ironically despises nothing more than mediocrity. Not exactly the most commendable of common causes, but still one that, if only for one tirade demanding productive counter-productivity, united the long-term aspirations of the top and bottom rung of the organizational hierarchy.
The Arizona Diamondbacks Had a 3-Run Homer Taken Off The Board Due To A Base Running Gaffe, And The MLB Proved They Can Nit Pick With The Best Of Them
Come on in Major League Baseball! Get in on the fun! Help yourself to some party favors! The drug of choice is instant replay, and - when it comes to viewing the most mundane aspects of game footage from professional sports through a microscope - everyone is chopping it up and OD'ing on it! Take as much as you need to get your fix, because - if the NHL's unpredictable judgements on goaltender interference and the NFL's dubious definition of a catch are any indication - there's more than enough slowed-down camera angles available in compromising the integrity of sports that weren't meant to be decided by a matter of completely inconsequential inches.
I suppose I understand that this rare case would have needed to play out in all its ingloriousness for the people with the power to change the rule to realize how goddamn stupid said rule is. However, now that it actually has and a player had his first dinger of the season dinged from the stat sheet due to his teammate's inability to perceive depth, we're all in agreement though, right? There's no baseball nerds out there arguing about the blessedness of the base paths when the ball isn't even the goddamn park anymore, correct? Something in sports being universally agreed upon is about as rare as stumbling upon a truly objective fan in the wild, but for the sake of my sanity I just want to believe that no one is so blind to baseball's flaws that they can't see the absurdity in calling someone out on a hit that couldn't have been caught by someone with Hakeem Olajuwon's wingspan.
I mean, surely there were quite a few losers that proudly well, actually'd one of the most exciting feats in the sport when the player who went yard got one step ahead of himself in fulfilling the empty obligation of rounding the diamond, but can we please ignore their pleas to stick to antiquated traditions that run completely contrary to common fucking sense?
Alanis Morissette would have a goddamn field day with this revelation, because the idea that the guy with two decades of dominance under his belt had to start losing to be the last to realize that winning cures all is quite ironic, don't ya think? Hell, Gregg Popovich is probably so used to sleep-walking to sixty wins that he didn't even consider that his petulant personality might need medicating as it's ridiculously ill-fitted for a followup to an uncompetitive loss,
Admittedly, I find enjoyment in the mocking of media that tend to be ferociously formulaic, so I'm just as guilty as anyone of encouraging the "grumpy old man who's too smart for your stupid questions" routine. Unfortunately, it plays a hell of a lot better when the team he's putting on the court is undeniable proof of his superior basketball IQ. I don't care how long you've worn the label of irreproachable genius, because that adhesive starts to wear mighty thin once your team turns into nothing more than a small speed bump for an opponent that's playing without a 2x-MVP.
Simply put, arrogance in sports is earned annually, and being an asshole is a lot cuter when it's complimented by far more endearing qualities. The San Antonio Spurs, for the first time in the longest of times, don't possess any of those qualities. Never mind that the crotchety coach is likely the best strategist in the sport, because that matters very little when - despite being cleared by team doctors months ago - a soft-spoken superstar like Kawhi Leonard is letting his continued inaction speak all sorts of volumes. Again, most of the time I find Grumpy Gregg highly entertaining, but that's because most of the time he's not condescendingly circumventing easy, open-ended inquiries when the alternative line of questioning should be in regards to an unprecedented amount of reports that hint at organizational dysfunction. Captain the model franchise and cruise into title contention every season and you can have the snarl of a drunken sailor. However, if you struggle with in-fighting issues, suffer from a lack of transparency regarding your best player's on-court absence, and barely squeeze into the playoffs only to get railroaded when you get there then you should be expected to cleanse your colon of the stick shoved up it and wash down your humble pie with some sugary electrolytes.
I Thought This Went Without Saying, But Perhaps We Should Keep Some Distance Between Mentions Of Cotton-Picking And Professional Basketball
Seeing as Thunder play-by-play announcer Brian Davis is in his eighth year on the job and, to my knowledge, doesn't have any other racially-charged expressions that loosely relate to slavery in his arsenal, I think I'm just going to assume this the innocent use of an outdated figure of speech that's guilty of having very obvious ancestral undertones.
That said, no more free passes after last night. Cotton picking references, be they euphemistic in nature or not, should officially be barred from NBA broadcasts as far as I am concerned, and it's not so much that they could serve as an uncomfortable reminder of this country's dark past, but rather that the pay-off is basically that of a breakaway lay-up.
Admittedly, I don't know what type of mental state one might enter during the incessant picking of cotton, but something tells it's not liable to reflect the thought processes of a professional athlete who is thoroughly dominating his opposition. If Russell Westbrook were to ever stop in the middle of a fast break and started uncontrollably screaming while pulling clumps of hair out of his head during a hysterical fit then we can revisit the relevance of "out of your cotton pickin' mind" as an imagery tool. As it undoubtedly sat on the air like a stale fart last night, however, it was just about the worst compliment I could think of for the professional excellence of someone who was in the process of solidifying his second straight season averaging a triple-double.
Contextually, I give the Thunder announcer the benefit of the doubt that I'd never even think about giving to Bob McNair, but - in the interest of better describing athletic achievements - lets all make a concerted effort to understand that the English language, much like everything else, has changed drastically since the 1800's. Therefore, if you have absolutely have to use the phrase "out of his cotton picking mind" then use it in reference to an NBA announcer that somehow thought it was a good idea to say that a black player was "out of his cotton picking mind" on a live broadcast in 2018.
After Spending A Decade In The D/G League, Andre Ingram Got His First NBA Opportunity With The Lakers And Went Bonkers
First and foremost, Andre Ingram's story unquestionably serves as an inspirational tale of perseverance. Had he been called onto the Staples Center floor, waved to the crowd, and ran off into the sunset during the next break in action, the amount of miles he racked up on the long, uncertain road he took to realizing his dream still would have made doing so that much sweeter. Chances are the President of the Larry Bird Fan Club couldn't even fight back a smile while watching that gray-haired debut, as it represents just about everything that is great about sports.
That being said, how many points would he have needed to score before a poetically heart-warming moment became an inexcusable case of mismanagement? Don't get me wrong, Andre Ingram very much had the prayer-like shooting stroke of a one-time flash in the pan. However, he also has a decade of statistical evidence showing that he's far, far more than competent from an area of the floor that has gotten way too many people paid way too much money. The Lakers are heading into their season finale 13 games under .500 and they haven't exactly been setting the world on fire in recent years. You mean to tell me at no point could a 3-and-D guy with leadership qualities and a workmanlike attitude been of service to them?
By no means am I saying that one scorching hot performance in a meaningless game is proof that Andre Ingram's skillset is fit for an NBA bench. Still, with the way the Lakers have been dogging it the last few seasons, that 19-point effort sure makes it seem like he should have been thrown a bone before his hairline got put to sleep. Admittedly, I don't know my ass from my elbow when it comes to evaluating talent, but the 32 year old rook certainly put his foot in whatever mouth has spoken ill of his abilities.
Never Has One Play Encapsulated Two Careers Quite Like Lance Stephenson's Block On Dwight Howard Last Night
Let's start with Lance Stephenson...
I want to say that this is the most "Lance Stephenson" play of Lance Stephenson's career, but Lance Stephenson's biggest problem is that almost every noteworthy play he makes gives it a huge run for its money. Doing something absolutely awe-inspiring, but not even leaving enough time between it and the ensuing brain-dead display for everyone to start wondering why you've been passed around the Association quicker than the genital discomfort of a video vixen. I absolutely love the guy's personality, but you'd legitimately need Martin Scorsese's video editing team if you wanted to put together a Lance Stephenson highlight package that didn't immediately contradict itself. Taking the bad with the good isn't some new concept in sports, but watching Lance Stephenson is like taking some ambien with your cocaine. The highest of highs resulting in the most laughable of lows makes for a hell of a viewing experience, but having the attention span of a goldfish doesn't exactly make a consistent professional athlete that you'd trust to anything more than thoroughly entertain. If you're rooting for the team he plays on, as opposed to absolute chaos, then Lance Stephenson sustains satisfaction in such short orders that it makes a stick of Zebra gum seem like an everlasting gobstopper,
And Dwight Howard...
Getting emasculated by someone smaller than him, whining to an official, and completely ignoring the successes of his team because they don't perfectly align with his own success is basically the Dwight Howard trifecta and those horses came in 1, 2, 3 with a photo finish. Other than a laugh, I don't even know that there's that much left to offer on his performance in this clip, which is perfect considering a transcendent talent with a HOF resume somehow turned his career into a punchline.
Donovan Mitchell Made Just About The Worst Argument Ever In His Last-Ditch Play For 'Rookie Of The Year'
And, with one screen-print, any prospective political career that Donovan Mitchell had lined up post-basketball got stripped away from him in the backcourt. Maybe that's presumptuous given the way governmental qualifications are trending, but the fact that the Jazz guard donned attire that swayed less votes than had he showed up carrying a sign that said "Ben Simmons grabs 'em by the pussy" is pretty telling.
I actually enjoy the fact that NBA players are shameless enough to campaign on behalf of their own candidacy for an individual award. I think it makes things fun in a sports landscape that's constantly trying to kill its own buzz. Unfortunately, in this instance, I'm more liable to believe that Hillary Clinton put aside her slice of pepperoni to pimp pre-pubescents out of a pizza front than I am to believe that having court-side seats to the Sixers for a season enabled a guy with not an NBA minute to his name to will the extension of The Process into the postseason.
Simply put, if your best argument for 'Rookie Of The Year' is that everyone with a more compelling case isn't a rookie, despite steadfast rules that state the contrary, then you probably should have just stuck to slinging mud like our proud public servants. The word "playing" is literally used in Donovan Mitchell's desperate reliance on a definition and he played his first professional basketball game on the same exact day as Ben Simmons. That just goes to show that when you're trying to reverse the inevitable course of the polls, clarity helps your crusade about as much as a reminder that you were recruited by Rick Pitino aides in the effectiveness of your higher-education analogy...
Tell 'em Ben...
Duda Machado Of The Brazilian League Hit One Of The Cockiest Game-Winning 3's These Eyes Have Ever Seen In A Playoff Game
There's a lot that could be discussed here. The perfect placement of the intentional miss. The reading and reacting of the shooter. The rebounding prowess, or lack thereof, of the opponent. The fact it all took place in a postseason game that had very real ramifications. That was anything but your average game-winner, so surely there is a lot of aspects of it that could dissected.
That said, there's only one thing that I keep coming back to and that's the fact that, with the clock running down, this loose ball had no business turning into a long ball...
I'm not exactly a coach or anything, but I would presume that someone who was might tell their players to utilize the unguarded lane to the basket while down two points with 5 seconds remaining in a game that previously appeared destined to tie a postseason series. You know, as opposed to turning their back on said basket, sprinting away from it to the three-point line, and rushing a fall-away shot like they were in a high stakes game of Knockout. I know the basketball has become increasingly reliant on shooting from range, but this seems a hell of a lot more like a Happy Gilmore-esque "nah, I'll just beat 'em now" type decision than a highly calculated attempt at maintaining offensive efficiency.
So credit to Duda Machado for dragging his huge balls all the way out for an absolute dragger of a corner three, for what it lacked in cautiousness it more than made up for in cockiness.
LBS- Siena Saints head men’s basketball coach Jimmy Patsos is under investigation for allegedly verbally abusing a student manager of the team, according to a report.
The Albany Times Union shares news of the investigation Patsos is facing. The student manager filed a complaint with the school’s president, alleging that he has been the target of taunts and verbal abuse from the coach. The student, who has obsessive compulsive disorder, says he was teased by the coach.
“The complaint included allegations that Patsos called the student manager “insane” and teased him about his medications and other personal issues, including in front of players and others, that person said,” the Times Union reported.
A school spokesperson says the matter arose during an end-of-season review of the program.
Look, I don't condone bullying. Picking on a kid that has devoted both time and energy during his college years to fulfilling a thankless role as team manager is pretty messed up, especially since all he's getting out of the gig is a resume filler that's more easily overlooked than a high school diploma. OCD, while appropriately being a condition that might make someone a perfect fit for the job of tediously tying up loose ends, at it's worst is no joke and it shouldn't be treated as such by a grown ass man who looks like the type of person who might consider ADD to be a figment of a weak mind's imagination.
Here's my question though, what exactly do student managers at the college level do? Re-rack basketballs? Gather laundry? Hand out water? Have towels handy? I mean, they basically sign up to be Cinderella sans glass slipper, so becoming the downtrodden target of a coach's ribbing sort of fits that bill. Sometimes you have to keep things light in the locker room, and what better way to do that than to have some fun at the expense of a person who can just up and quit whenever they want without harm or foul. Now, if Coach Patsos was hiding the hand soap and intentionally leaving things out of place before dumping this kid's medication in the toilet while maniacally laughing in a way that made his double chin giggle then I retract the previous sentiment. However, investigating him for "verbal assault" just seems like a convenient way to get out from under the following futility considering it was probably just an occasional crossing of the line from someone whose age and race make him privy to inappropriateness...
Patsos, 51, went 8-24 this season — his fifth and worst at Siena. The team has gone 77-92 under his leadership.
Donte DiVincenzo Starred In Villanova's National Championship Victory...Only To Be Asked About Regrettable Tweets From Seven Years Ago
USAToday- On Monday an old tweet from the account of Villanova guard Donte DiVincenzo re-emerged just as he was being named Most Outstanding Player of the Final Four.
The tweet from August 2011 is a lyric from Meek Mill song Derrick Rose that had been released just more than a week earlier. The tweet, and lyric, in question is: “Ballin on these niggas like I’m derrick rose!”
“I didn’t do that,’’ DiVincenzo said after he scored a game-high 31 points in Villanova’s victory against Michigan in the national title game.
At the time of the tweet, DiVincenzo was 14 and living in Wilmington, Del., but a white kid using that racially charged word is always a problem.
DiVincenzo, 21, did confirm the Twitter account on which the tweet appears is his.
“It’s my account, yes,’’ he said. “But I never remember doing that.”
When asked who else could have been responsible for the tweet, he replied, “That’s a good question.’’
The tweet was deleted after a reporter asked a question about it. Villanova initially released a statement saying the account had been hacked and was deactivated.
Full disclosure, I have absolutely no familiarity with the adolescence of Donte DiVincenzo. That said, I still feel pretty comfortable in saying that a random, no-name white kid growing up in Delaware wasn't the victim of an internet hijacking that was aimed at publicizing a rap line that was only as inappropriate as it was unoriginal and just learned about it seven years after the fact.
What I'm trying to say is that the "I was hacked" excuse has never been more laughable than it is here. Yet, somehow, that's still not as bad of a joke as media members questioning the Final Four's Most Outstanding Player on his early-teenage twitter usage moments after he helped cut down the net that he nearly set on fire, NBA Jam-style, during last night's National Championship.
The internet - as an entity - has no shortage of shame or free time, so these timeline deep dives are always going to come to the surface whenever a star, be it in sports or entertainment, is born. While it takes a real loser to devote the time to do the digging in search of some cheap retweets, I can't act like I haven't found myself intrigued by some of the findings.
That doesn't mean that real-life journalists, who are supposed to be bound by some modicum of integrity, trying to turn a kid's one shining moment into the bright light of an interrogation sits well with me. I get that publicly posting the n-word, no matter the time or context, is frowned upon when your skin is a shade of vanilla. I just can't say with absolute certainty that I too wasn't once young and dumb enough to carelessly let one fly in maintaining lyrical authenticity. It's just far more moronic than it is racial for a white kid whose sport of choice had him engulfed in the culture to be quoting Meek Mill word-for-word. To not understand that is to not realize that a vehicle that encourages public oversharing by high schoolers is sure to leave some ignorant and cringeworthy results.
Donte DiVincenzo grew up shooting hoops, spreading the gospel of hip hop a little too well, hating a father that was failing to live vicariously through his athleticism, and being well ahead of his time sexually. As someone that owned multiple velour tracksuits and a CD case full of 'Explicit Content', I'm going to go ahead and say that's more normal than it is newsworthy. So can we just let him enjoy the fruits of his jaw-dropping labor instead of blasting him for once being just as insufferable of an asshole as every 14 year old millennial that probably deserved a punch in the face during puberty?
Four Years After Deciding Not To Play For Him, Notre Dame's Arike Ogunbowale Officially Bodybagged Geno Auriemma
It may have taken nearly four whole years and spanned the entirety of the Huskies' 111 game winning streak, but the joke - and #whatajoke it has ended up becoming - is officially on Geno Auriemma. I suppose the college coach had already long made himself a punchline by subtweeting quite possibly the first recruit who has ever completely spurned his advances in a way that's fitting of the douchey spoiled brat that feels entitled to the hands of the hottest girls in school. However, with two heroic heaves, Arike Ogunbowale added a ba-dum-CHING to a laughable tweet from a grown ass man that not-so-roughly translates to "Oh, you don't want me? Well, I never even wanted you anyway, so HA!".
Congrats to Geno Auriemma for having the wherewithal to quit after he got fired. He and his program have obviously come upon a great deal of successes since, but profiting from the the rising stock of the company he swears he never wanted to keep is undeniable not one of them. It may not last longer than this one offseason, but Arike Ogunbowale retroactively made the architect of the preeminent powerhouse in women's college basketball look as though the castle built on ego starts crumbling when met with just a litttttttle bit of competition. The UConn coach's resume definitely speaks for itself, but so does his twitter timeline and it's quoted as implying that nobody turns down Geno Auriemma without ruing the day. It took a Final Four performance for the ages, but that currently couldn't seem any further from the truth...
Oh brother, I suppose it was only a matter time before someone whose name is preceded by Sister decided to play the role of Mother Teresa and definitively refer to the hypothetical favoritism of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. If I have learned anything from televangelists, it's that the virtuous can only consistently open their mouthes for so long before they sound holier-than-thou, so I suppose Sister Jean deserves the benefit of the doubt for keeping her antiquated beliefs to herself for four whole rounds.
Plus, it's tough to be too hard on this old bird for chirping on behalf of beyond the clouds, because the truth is that God probably does favor the NCAA over the NBA. After all, the values of Catholic church and the priorities of college athletics align pretty nicely. If you believe everything you read then God appears to have a particular fondness for forcing his following into abstaining. Sex and money might not be the exact same vice but they do typically go hand-in-hand as the respective fruits forbidden of those that want to go to heaven or compete in amateur hoops. Christians call it lent and student athletes call it a season, but - at the end of the day - young vulnerable boys are being taken advantage of and ain't nobody getting what they really want.
Sure, the professionals that are lucky enough to be fairly compensated and receive a cut of the unlimited revenue they almost exclusively bring in play a much more aesthetically pleasing brand of basketball, but God values pro bono over proficiency. Well, that is until the collection plate gets passed around, and it would be rather hypocritical of him to get mad at the NCAA just because their "collection plate" just so happens to look like the swimming pool of Scrooge McDuck...
In Continuing His Rookie Year From Hell, Markelle Fultz Accidentally Bumped Heads With Joel Embiid And Knocked Him Out Of The Game
I feel bad for the kid. I truly and genuinely do. He's a 19 year old whose confidence issues are surely made worse by the pressure he must feel having been traded up for by the team whose lineup he couldn't even crack until last week. Then, what happens when he finally remembers how to do something as simple as take a jump shot without looking like he's shooting a medicine ball? He throws a wrench right into the spokes of The Process by incidentally head-butting it's namesake into a hospital bed.
Now granted, the collision was initiated by Joel Embiid, but if you think that made Markelle Fultz feel less responsible as he watched his teammate - the injury prone freak who has the potential of a generational superstar - grabbing at his head as he writhed around in pain then you're probably the type to assume that divorce doesn't effect the children of it.
It's not entirely his fault, but the way his season is going it's not outlandish to think that Markelle Fultz would instantly incinerate if he walked into the church of Sam Hinkie. If one of his college teammates called him after last night's game and asked him how awesome it was to play in the NBA there's about an 80% chance that his answer would sound at least vaguely familiar to the following...
Simply put, the kid needs some new Friends. If not because they would give him a therapeutic outlet then because it hasn't been his day, his week, his month, or even his year.
Moral of the story? Much like girls, superstars don't poop. If nothing else, that ridiculous implication certainly explains how LeBron James was able to (allegedly) gain seven pounds during a playoff game.
Let me tell, this was some real eye-opening insight from Kevin Durant. Can you even believe he returns home after crunching down a gluttonous amount of gorditas only to run straight to the shitter? Here I was thinking that he was especially gifted, but it turns out his human body also reacts biologically to the ingestion of artificial Mexican laxatives in meal form! The NBA player whose skill set was previously unforeseen from someone of his size and the rest of us, kindred spirits by way of burrito-induced bubble guts and Taco Bell-abused bowels. Almost makes me want to do a quick crunchwrap cleanse and hit the hardwood to see if I too can become a generational matchup nightmare by consistently hitting pull-up jumpers from 30 feet out. All this wasted potential in a 5'10, mildly athletic frame that's also capable of digesting fast food in a way that makes the last five minutes of the ride home an intestinal grudge match.
In all seriousness though, this was an insulting attempt at sounding relatable. Of all the daily activities that he partakes in, the only one that came to Kevin Durant's mind as relatively ordinary was that one time a chalupa left his body quicker than it entered it? He honestly would have sounded less condescending and more self-aware if he said "I incessantly search my own name, anonymously talk shit, and troll the internet in the third person just like a normal person!".
Michigan's Moritz Wagner Has Been Practicing With Tennis Balls In His Hands To Teach Himself To Avoid Foul Trouble
LBS- Foul trouble has somewhat limited the effectiveness of Michigan big man Moritz Wagner so far in this year’s tournament, but the team may have figured out a fix just in time for the Sweet Sixteen.
On Wednesday, Wolverines head coach John Beilein revealed his interesting strategy to try and remedy Wagner’s fouling issues: have Wagner play defense while holding tennis balls in his hands during practice.
“So he is not putting his hands on people,” said Beilein of the technique, according to Jeff Seidel of the Detroit Free Press. “He is going to [have] fouls, but they just can’t be the ones he can control.”
The junior forward is easily Michigan’s most important player — he led the team in both points (14.2) and rebounds per game (7.1) this season. But Wagner’s foul problems have held him to an average of 27.5 minutes in the tourney, leading to just 8.5 points and 6.5 rebounds a game. All in all, he has picked up a total of eight personal fouls through Michigan’s first two contests. Wagner also fouled out of three separate games during the regular season.
+1 for unorthodox coaching tactics that preemptively address a team's most pressing concern in a way that you'd expect to see in a children's movie!
As for attempts at correcting a weakness that could easily be exposed by nothing more than judgement calls from inconsistent whistle blowers, I can't see how this particularly quirky one could backfire. Trying to instill in your best player the instinctual practice of keeping his active hands clenched on the defensive end of the floor, what could possibly go wrong?! As far as I know, never has anyone misinterpreted the presence of a balled up fist during an overly emotional moment of competitiveness. Therefore, I highly doubt the keen-eyed officials of college basketball will be the first to see attempted physicality from someone so noticeably tall and white that staring directly as him causes more squints than the sun itself as more violent due to his oddly intimidating hand positioning.
In fact, if the Mighty Ducks trilogy truly is as prophetic of a coaching tutorial as it seems, then I'd be willing to bet that not only will Moritz Wagner stay out of the shame section of the scoresheet by constantly putting his dukes up like he was told to in practice, but he'll also deliver a heroic, game saving spike that makes for a proud fatherly moment that wouldn't have been at all possible is he just kept his sticky fingers to himself like a normal person.
Jay Williams Dug Up A 24 Year Old '60 Minutes' Piece On College Basketball's Issues, And You Won't Believe How Much Has (Not) Changed
Money hungry coaches? Six figure shoe deals? A marginalized "workforce" that's not allowed to profit off their status as public figures? If you upgraded this clip to HD, took the pads out of the anchorwoman's suit jacket, got Converse up on out of that graphic, edited out the sound of velcro, found someone other than Grant Hill to fill the role of able-bodied athlete, and had it mention a federal investigation then I'd be liable to think that this was filmed while I had ate breakfast this morning.
If we're being honest, it's actually quite scary how much college basketball hasn't changed since the early 90's. If you went back 5 years you'd be hard pressed to find another walk of life in which a clearly flawed and an obviously exploitive business model wasn't made at least a little more liberal in the name of common fucking sense. Yet, not only has the NCAA remained remarkable consistent in their standard operating procedure of indentured servitude for well over two decades, but they have actually doubled down on it by bringing abroad the FBI to more strictly enforce it. They would have been considered relatively regressive if all they were doing was getting lapped in leniency by every other organization in the country, but they are actually attempting to swim upstream into the raging rapids of rationality. Their stubbornness might actually be impressive if it weren't so goddamn self-serving.
I'm probably closer to being able to buy a college basketball player on Amazon and having him delivered to my doorstep in 12 hours than I am to seeing the day in which that college basketball player can legally license his likeness while it sells sneakers by the shitload. We've acknowledged the existence of approximately 15 new genders and granted equal rights to absolutely everyone since this piece aired. Well, everyone but the student athletes who still don't have the right to take advantage of a capitalist society despite working double duty under an umbrella that just keeps on collecting money due to their efforts.
A Former Atlanta Hawks Employee Is Suing The Organization On The Grounds That She Was Discriminated Against For Being White And Female
NBC- A former Atlanta Hawks employee is accusing the professional basketball club of discriminating against white people and firing her after she complained.
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution reports Margo Kline filed a lawsuit Friday seeking punitive damages and a trial. The lawsuit says Hawks external affairs director David Lee, who is black, promoted a culture of discrimination against white people, and especially white women.
Kline, who is white, worked as a community development coordinator for five years before her March 2017 firing.
The lawsuit says Lee would make jokes about “white culture,” hiring and promoting black employees – who Kline said were less qualified – over white people....
The NBA team denies Kline’s claims and says it plans to defend against them. The Hawks statement says discrimination claims are taken seriously and Kline’s were thoroughly reviewed.
Well, well, well...would you look at that? Four years ago the Atlanta Hawks GM had to dismiss of himself because he was unable to analyze a player of Sudanese descent without openly wondering where he was hiding the knockoff Gucci bags, and now that very same front office is intolerant of humorless white people. Some might even say that their biggest transgression is being too progressive...
In all seriousness, I think I already found grounds for dismissal of this case. How is it racist to make jokes at the expense of white culture when "white culture" is nothing more than 2-3 year old black culture? Is it ageist to make fun of the way you dressed in high school photos, because David Lee and his associates are basically being charged with taking a look back through their proverbial scrapbook and having a laugh at what's been recently appropriated.
The truth of the matter is, this lawsuit is nothing more than proof positive that the defendant did the right thing by canning Margo Kline. How the hell is a "Community Developer" supposed to develop what's largely a black community when she doesn't even understand their primary interests? She was in the business of catering to black people, and it's well known that the best way to cater to black people is to take advantage of the wealth of comedic material at your disposal by making fun of white people. If she didn't pick up on the fact that self-depreciation was the smartest play during her five years doing outreach for a predominantly black office in a predominantly black league in a predominantly black city with a predominantly black fanbase then it's inevitable that her job performance at least stagnated and more than likely suffered.
I bet the African American that replaced her ass has increased productivity from the position ten fold, and it's probably because he/she has taken advantage of the fact that their office - much like the NBA itself - is one of the only workplaces in America where black people don't feel it necessary to at least mildly censor their true selves. Embracing their blackness is part of the Atlanta Hawks' marketing strategy, and publicly rolling your eyes at whiteness is paramount to embracing blackness (See: Darren Rovell Vs. Hot Sauce).
And look, on the off chance that she - or anyone else - was truly held back from climbing this particular corporate latter because she was either white or female then that's wrong, but the fact that she felt it necessary to combine the two is a sign that neither form of discrimination was all that debilitating to her upward mobility. Never mind the fact that a white person claiming racism will always be taken about as seriously as a male claiming rape, because if you can't drum up enough sympathy with a claim of gender inequality in the year 2018 then you don't deserve reimbursement for even the most punitively damaged sense of entitlement.
While TNT's 'Players Only' Broadcasts Are Great In Theory, Giving Nate Robinson An Open Mic Is The Exact Opposite In Execution
I'm not going to lie, a casually relatable perspective from someone whose not at all concerned with being either right or professional is one that I would have been interested in serving as the background noise during one of the most exciting regular season games of the entire NBA season...until it actually did.
It's not an indictment of the concept of 'Players Only' broadcasts as much as it is an indictment of Nate Robinson's inclusion in them, but hearing him analyze the game from the viewpoint of an overly opinionated fan made me realize that watching games with overly opinionated fans is almost always an awful experience. From him openly rooting for the Trail Blazers, to him reading ads like the fat kid in Billy Madison, to him declaring a Gerald Green half court heave to be a "BUCKET" two whole seconds before it bounced harmlessly off the backboard, to attempting to backseat officiate by saying "every James Harden step-back looks like a travel", Nate Robinson reminded me of the value of in-game silence.
If he were sitting next to me on my couch I would have told him to shut the hell up and sip his beer like a normal person and TNT decided he needed to metaphorically sit on everyone's couch while all-but-forcing them to chug theirs just to drowned out his nonsense. Two of the hottest teams in the league featuring some of the most awe-inspiring talent in the sport going back and forth during a game that came down to the final seconds, and I wasn't looking forward to the next possession but rather bracing myself for the next obnoxious ad-lib. Like I said, great in theory, but - if only due to the incompetence of the executor - counterproductive in execution.