"After Game 2 in Milwaukee, I was trying to get to the team bus and one of the dudes in the Milwaukee arena just screams at me. He's like, 'Where do you think you're going?!' And I'm like, 'Uh, I'm trying to get to the team bus.' He's like, 'What?! Where's your pass?' I was like, 'I don't have a pass. I don't know what you're talking about. I don't have a pass,'" said Lin. "This happens in a lot of arenas, so I just kind of go with the flow." ---------- Look, I get it. To the untrained eye, Jeremy Lin looks...shall we say...well...hmm...nope...I can't think of a less subtle way to put it than saying he looks a hell of a lot more Asian than your average NBA player. I just can't help but wonder exactly how untrained one's eye has to be not to be familiar with face of 'Linsanity', which was quite literally a cultural phenomenon that led to a more well-publicized stretch of fame and notoriety than almost every non-superstar in basketball history is able to call their own. If NBA security is made up of even the most casual of NBA fans then not recognizing the man that burned the brightest as a shooting star of New York sports' celebrity is almost more inexcusable than thinking that Asians of even the most non-stereotypical aesthetics look alike. It stands to reason that those hired to protect professional athletes should have a heightened sense of who they are dealing with, and - relative to the vast majority of his black, white, brown, or purple peers - Jeremy Lin reached heights that most basketball players could only dream of. Therefore, while the unintentional racism of the repetitive profiling is definitely unfortunate, what really has my panties in a bunch is the thought of the insanity of the national treasure that was Linsanity not being common knowledge all throughout each and every NBA arena for-ev-er.
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Question. Are we really considering this a hard-hitting piece of news? It's definitely noteworthy that Houston's trading block consists of every non-MVP candidate on their roster, but - relative to most Woj Bombs - I'd say this fittingly packs the punch of a malfunctioning bottle rocket. Of course the Rockets, a team that keeps finding ways to fall short in their bid for Western Conference supremacy, has a desire to improve. Of course they'd go as far as parting ways with an absolute anchor of a contract that's looked worse and worse from the very second it was signed, as it belongs to a player whose impact is depreciating far quicker than his attitudinal ego. I hesitate to say that moving on from Chris Paul would be a blessing in disguise, for if it were then that disguise would be about as transparent as the one worn by "Cliff Paul" in State Farm commercials. With James Harden dominating possessions like there is quota of dribbles he has to reach for the ball not to blow up in his face, CP3 is probably worth half of what he is being (over) paid as an injury prone 34-year old who is most effective as a primary point guard whose most deadly shot is the same one that's damn near forbidden by Daryl Morey. Now, I don't know that the Rockets can get much better by trading CP3, as it might take the Lakers idiotically appeasing LeBron by tossing a full can of gasoline on their organizational dumpster fire to give up enough promising, young, cost-controlled assets to fill the on-court void left by an off-court albatross. That, however, doesn't mean it isn't common sense for them to try to do so instead of running it back with a roster that has proven to pick the worst possible times to live up to their reputation by painting Picasso's of postseason choke-artistry.
ESPN- In his remarks, Johnson expressed excitement about the task ahead, but he also made clear he didn't accept excuses or mistakes, and that those who weren't on board with the new management and their mission should leave, according to six staffers who were present.
Pointing upstairs, toward his office, Johnson drove home his point. He had a large stack of resumes sitting on his desk -- "a thousand" of them, multiple staffers recall him saying -- and he could replace any of them at any time. "It was shocking," said one Lakers coaching staff member who was present. "If you're going to be in this business, you bring enough pressure on yourself. You don't need more pressure, especially from someone who's supposed to be an ally." The message would set the tone for what many staffers describe as Johnson's confrontational demeanor over the next two years. "If you questioned him on anything, his response was always a threatening tone," said a Lakers front office staffer who interacted with Johnson directly. "He used intimidation and bullying as a way of showing authority." According to nearly two dozen current and former team staffers, ranging from occupants of executive suites to office cubicles, in addition to league sources and others close to the team, the Lakers under Johnson and Pelinka were fraught with dysfunction, on and off the court. These sources, who feared reprisal and weren't authorized to speak publicly, describe Pelinka and Johnson as managers who made unilateral free-agent acquisitions; triggered a spate of tampering investigations and fines; berated staffers, including Walton; and created an in-house culture that many current and former longtime staffers said marginalized their colleagues, inspired fear and led to feelings of anxiety severe enough that at least two staffers suffered panic attacks. As one ex-Lakers star privately told confidants, "It's f----ng crazy over there." On March 10, 2017, the day he was introduced as the team's new GM, Pelinka was asked about the steepest learning curve in his new role. "This franchise consists of 200-250 employees," Pelinka said, "and our job is to make sure that all of those team members are functioning as a well-oiled machine and together." Johnson, sitting beside Pelinka, added that they were evaluating everybody in the organization. "We're going to see if we have the best people," he said, "and hopefully we do in house, and if not, we just have to get the right people." As Johnson and Pelinka foreshadowed, change would follow. At least two dozen staffers throughout the organization would depart, a figure that includes not only basketball operations and coaching staffers but also athletic training officials, analytics staffers, administrative assistants, the team's equipment manager and the head athletic trainer. In the Lakers' 2016-17 media guide, the directory lists 72 staffers who aren't a part of the ownership group. That figure does not include players, cheerleaders, security members, ball boys, interns, outside consultants, team broadcasters, players and coaches of the team's development league team, among others; nor does it include the six Buss family members listed in various positions throughout the franchise. Of those 72, at least 27 are, as of this date, no longer with the organization, a turnover rate of 37.5 percent. The spate of changes increased the workloads for several staff members -- and in one instance in 2017, a longtime female staffer was called into an office with Johnson and Pelinka after making a mistake, according to multiple staffers present and others familiar with the incident. The mistake, sources said, involved arranging a car service to the team's facility for a draft prospect. "I don't stand for mistakes!" Johnson shouted at her. "I don't make mistakes." Johnson also made clear, according to multiple people familiar with the exchange, that if the staffer made one more mistake, she would be fired. In the office, the staffer apologized and later, off site, began to cry, according to multiple people with knowledge of the incident. In the months ahead, she would suffer increased anxiety and panic attacks. She was prescribed anti-anxiety medication, quit the Lakers after more than two decades with the team, and began several weeks of therapy, multiple people familiar with the matter said. She gave her notice on Dec. 18, 2017, the same day Kobe Bryant's two jerseys were retired. A Lakers executive said he also suffered panic attacks and had to be prescribed anti-anxiety medication. "Every day you go in there and you get this horrible feeling of anxiety," the executive said. "In the last year, I can't tell you how many panic attacks I've had from the s--- that has happened there." Multiple current and former Lakers staffers who interacted directly with Johnson would describe a striking duality to his personality. One ex-staffer noted that when Johnson was present, there was often a question of who employees would face that day: Would they see Magic? Or would it be Earvin? The cameras love Magic, the charismatic one, but there was also Earvin, who could be manipulative and impulsive. "It was a roller-coaster ride of up and down with him," one coaching staff member said. Current and former team staffers told ESPN that Johnson, who has business interests outside the Lakers, was frequently absent, sometimes appearing only once a week or every two weeks. But, these same people said, when Johnson was there, he could make his presence known in a demonstrative way. "He comes off to the fan base with the big love and the smile," said one ex-Lakers athletic training official who interacted directly with Johnson. "But he's not -- he's a fear monger." ---------- While I can't say I had foreseen the second of three sides to a story of abject dysfunction portraying Magic Johnson as the Lakers' very own version of Dr. Jovial Jekyll and Mr. Hotheaded Hyde, but it does paint a better picture of the third side of said story, with that of course being the truth. Far be it for me to support someone who temporarily brought back to life Heath Ledger just so he could completely fabricate a postmortem fable as a way to prop up the prestige of a franchise legend...
However, at least now we know why Rob Pelinka may have actively been sabotaging the job security of a co-worker who, from the outside, appeared to be non-threat as an absentee executive who was largely brought in to smile and wave as a familiar and comforting face to the fickle fanbase of a foundering franchise. It's not that Magic Johnson spent 60% of business hours trying to find the nearest camera to coax and the nearest baby to kiss, but rather that the 40% of business hours for which he was present were spent hypocritically berating employees into extensive lines outside the nearest therapist office and pharmacy. He may not be the first overly demanding dictator of a boss, especially in a business as cutthroat as professional sports, but it sure sounds like Magic Johnson was the first too get that belligerently drunk off the limited power of a gimmick gig. That's definitely on the Lakers' for over-serving him. Still, when you come and go as you please, you need not more than a shred of self-awareness to understand you can't be an overzealous, egomaniacal asshole on the rare instances in which you actually do stay. Magic Johnson treated running a once premier NBA franchise like a hobby, so for him to require professional perfection from those under him is as dumbfoundingly duplicitous as it gets. We're talking about a guy that, in the year 2018, signed every brick-laying headcase left on the market to put around one of the best open-shot creators in NBA history. A guy who was complicit in letting LeBron & Co. take a leak in what team chemistry did exist. A guy that didn't have the balls to notify his employer before he tucked his tail and ran once the going got tough. The only yelling and screaming he should have felt at liberty to do was in the mirror. Unfortunately, he's never been able to stop grinning at his own reflection as someone who loves the smell of his own shit almost as much as he loves going on ESPN and spewing said shit in a bunch of aimlessly defensive directions through a 100 watt smile...
Huh. So you mean to tell me that, by unexpectedly steering clear of the college route, RJ Hampton will be making himself some money, better preparing for life as a professional athlete, and avoiding the distraction that is an inevitably abrupt and empty education before entering the NBA Draft? Well, when you put it like that it almost seems as though the NCAA shouldn't feel quite so comfortable about continuing to exercise what was thought to be a unlimited amount of power in profiting off high-profile players who figured themselves to have no other legitimate alternative to the money-making scheme of a scam that clings to the most disingenuous definition of amateurism. In all seriousness, one premier prospect having the balls to try to his hand at overseas ball, while giving up the publicity that comes with being exploited by a college basketball blue-blood, isn't going to serve as the dam-breaker for a wave of high-quality high school kids to follow his lead to Australia, or New Zealand, or wherever else. Especially since we've yet to see in which direction his draft stock fluctuates after doing so. Still, even one player of his caliber betting on himself by more or less telling someone with the prestige of Bill Self to shove it is a relatively huge step in the right direction. Slowly but surely, the sports' world is at least trying to distance itself from an institution as demonstrably dumb as the NCAA. It might be moving at a snail's pace, but basketball needed an American-born phenom to go global in shooing the seductiveness of an objectively unjust "developmental" system. They finally got one, and hopefully that leads to two sooner rather than later. Simply put, it's a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.
While I suppose it's nice to get a cutthroat confirmation from a fun-loving former player who is quickly turning into one the league's most quality listens, was it ever really in doubt that a contending Cavaliers' team came, boozed, and conquered during a midseason stop in Manhattan? In my opinion, that tweet is only a bad look for the New York Knicks if you've somehow avoided catching wind of the festering pile of feces that's inhabited 'The Garden' for the last two decades. I mean, of course LeBron & Co. took advantage of a night on one of the most enticing NBA towns off the court before taking advantage of the uncompetitive also-ran's that annually tarnish its reputation on the court. If, for some reason, you weren't already assuming that young, rich professional athletes looked forward to playing dysfunctional organizations in destination cities then said professional athletes finding themselves obnoxiously amused by flipping a half-empty bottle should have been a pretty clear sign of a less-than-sober headspace. Again, I'm glad that Richard Jefferson, after all these years, is still fulfilling his duties as a New Jersey Nets' great and a Brooklyn Nets' employee by dunking all over the Knickerbockers at every opportunity. I just can't consider an assumed amount of pregame popped bottles to more disrespectful than mid-game flipped bottles when the former has long been associated with traveling to play a perennial pushover in a city that knows how to party away the sorrows induced by its most "prestigious" squad. Kawhi Leonard Damn Near Parodied Himself in a Postgame Interview That Was Perfectly Prosaic5/24/2019
In an era during which the best the NBA has to offer have an inherent inability to avoid the scrutiny of social media (See: Kevin Durant and Kyrie Irving), the superstar who appears to have never once changed his breathing patterns is a breathe of fresh air. Not in the sense that he's happy to offer extremely enlightening answers in postgame interviews, mind you, but rather in the sense those answers will never, ever be the least bit influenced by what's being said about him on the internet. Honestly, that line of questioning made me feel like a kid again. Not because it reminded me of a pure and innocent love of basketball, mind you, but rather because it brought me back to the glory days of AIM during which late nights would be wasted trying (and failing) to get the SmarterChild bot to respond to in a way that wasn't ludicrously literal. Analysis be damned, because Kawhi Leonard cannot and will not give you any situational insight that hasn't already been auto-saved to his memory card by way of first-hand experience. That back and forth was so unapologetically poker-faced that you'd think that its subject was being obnoxiously aloof and calculatedly condescending had it been anyone other than the NBA's resident bionic man. In that sense, it was such a perfect portrayal of Kawhi Leonard's personality that its transcript would read just as overly robotic as a Kawhi Leonard parody. Luckily, if there's one thing we can count on Kawhi Leonard for, other than 35+ points and the type of overwhelmingly impenetrable defense of the final boss on the world's most difficult video game, it's to be self-unaware in a way that could prove Westworld fictional to even the biggest skeptic of artificial intelligence. Simply put, in that it was so matter of factly unhumored, that interview was unintentional comedy at its absolute driest. Now, that's not the type of thing we typically appreciate from star players who are one win way from competing for championships, but look no further than his refusal to shine anywhere other than on the hardwood that Kawhi Leonard is hardly your average star. Plus, he serves as the perfectly modest yin to the insufferable yang of the flagrant front-runner who is passing out billboard material as if he's actually the one carrying the Raptors through the playoffs on 1.5 legs as opposed to just shamelessly begging for camera time at every turn...
On one hand, you really have to sympathize with Klay Thompson's futile attempt to prove he's, like, not even mad. He is undoubtedly an elite two-way guard who serves as one half of the most lethal backcourt in the entire NBA. He certainly has a pretty compelling argument that he deserves an honor that would have guaranteed him a raise worth tens of millions of dollars when it came time to talk contract, if not an argument that it's asinine that potentially partisan writers are those that denied him of it. Short of Kawhi Leonard, who is entirely unfamiliar with facial expressions, there is not a person on this planet that would have better kept their emotions in check than Klay Thompson did when receiving relatively devastating news with a camera in his face. I actually appreciated him tossing his head back like he was trying to draw a lawsuit and rolling his eyes so far out of sight that you'd think a medic were necessary when he heard the name Kemba Walker, because it humanized the hell out of a guy who is so often humble in being oddly calm, cool, and collected. On the other hand, for lack of a more appropriate response, I must say...well...too fucking bad. With rewards come risks, and I think it's fair to say that Klay Thompson has reaped no shortage of rewards since Kevin Durant came on board and pushed his value to 4th highest on his own damn team. As a defensive stopper and dead-eye shooter he's pretty easily an All-NBA caliber talent, but you can just as easily craft a case that he doesn't have an All-NBA impact when the Golden State Warriors are at full strength. I'm not even sure I'd agree with said case, because those that took his spot aren't better than him and merely posted largely empty stats from largely dependent (also see: bad) rosters. Still, everyone accepting less credit comes part and parcel with putting together far and away the best basketball team on the planet. I totally understand his frustrations (almost wish he were more fiery in letting them out, to be honest), but - much like journalists having far too significant an impact on the salaries of the cream of the NBA's crop - that's just how this shit works. TheAthletic- There was something of a clash of styles brewing throughout the Rockets season, with members of the team — most notably Paul — having spirited discussions with Mike D’Antoni about the offense and pushing for more movement, league sources told The Athletic. That type of fast-paced, ball-moving offense is what D’Antoni thrived with in Phoenix, and to the two-time Coach of the Year’s credit, he has adapted it in Houston to allow Harden to succeed in his game.
But Harden and Paul had tense moments with one another throughout Game 6, culminating in a verbal back-and-forth postgame that went into the locker room, sources with knowledge of the situation told The Athletic. Sources said the verbal exchange between Harden and Paul was regarding the ball distribution throughout Game 6. By the time the remainder of the locker room was ready to talk, Paul and Harden had gone their separate ways, with Paul swiftly making his way to the postgame podium. The Rockets dispensed with exit interviews this year, so the media hasn’t been able to ask Paul or Harden about the disappointment. ------ I'll tell you what, while I would love to sit here and pat myself on the ass for suggesting the James Harden and Chris Paul would eventually bitch and moan their way into a power struggle over dribbles per possession, I think the statue of limitations has run out on that take. I definitely do enjoy being right, but we're talking about...::checks calendar::...two full seasons played together prior to a publicized spat over who gets to pound more air pressure out of the basketball. I hardly thought two of the most enigmatic, ball-dominant players in the entire NBA would make it more than two quarters without killing each other, so I can't imagine anyone else had the Spring of 2019 in the prediction pool for their first pissing contest. The Rockets, as infuriatingly Harden-centric as their offense might be, have actually been impressively understanding in being asked to largely stand around during the execution of that strategy. That, of course, hasn't cured the perennial postseason woes of their two most insatiable egos, but at least those egos have remained in check enough for them to continue finding new ways of coming up short in competing with the Warriors. That might rightfully read somewhat sarcastic. However, look no further than the annual implosions of the Clippers for proof that the alternative outcome of their attitudes clashing could have been a hell of a lot worse than being the ultimate bridesmaid as the consensus runner-up for best team in the Western Conference every year.
I want to say it's the thought that counts, but is anyone really, truly thinking if they believe there's even a small possibility that Kawhi Leonard is the type of guy to be out taking advantage of the local foodie scene enough for free dinners to make a difference in his long-term decision making? I get it. It's a nice, cutesy thing for local businesses to rally around in showing support for an impending free agent that is currently rewriting the franchise's history books. However, would you even be half surprised if you were told that the only places that the NBA's most anomalous introvert had visited within Toronto's city limits were the arena, his apartment, and the shortest possible route in between? Never mind Ka'Wine & Dine. If there actually were an initiative that could (not as literally) cater to his personal convenience and make the slightest of dents during the recruitment process it would be the "Kawhi the hell not try leaving him alone?" pact. As someone who is set to become obnoxiously rich, I genuinely believe he'd gladly pay triple the market value of his meals so long as there was a citywide promise to ignore his presence while he was ordering them, eating them, or carrying them out. Showing gratitude by acknowledging and awarding accomplishments might persuade most professional athletes, but Kawhi Leonard is the one superstar who appears to enjoy anonymity enough to prefer his face slapped on the side of a milk carton as opposed to attached to the window front of every eatery within a 10 mile radius.
As far as the incessantly ongoing analytics argument is concerned, you're either ignorant or just an asshole if you choose to place yourself at either polar end of the spectrum. It's not at all surprising that someone sitting across from Gilbert Arenas would be led to sound like an ignorant asshole, as I imagine his podcast has a way of goading its guests into talking reckless, but still. To think a high variance professional sport can be entirely explained through equations is only as idiotic as thinking that there is nothing to take away from an increased understanding of percentage points when playing a game of which the winner is more often than not decided by efficiency. Analytics, no matter the age or the athleticism of the fingers doing the calculations, have a place in sports, even if that place isn't the first or only place I'd look in determining how to improve a team.
Now, the fact that Josh Hart trashed the exact age and vaguely accurate lack of athleticism of the head coach who is bringing along an analytics background in taking over his team is probably purely coincidental in being a sign of how laughably two-left-footed the Lakers have been in getting in their own way. However, it's the type of unfortunate and awkward coincidence that is more likely to make you sound stubborn and stupid when you refuse to accept something as undeniably helpful as the adoption of analytics....or when you let an obnoxious antagonist like Gilbert Arenas kickstart a nuanced conversation.
I say the following as someone who appreciates an international celebrity maintaining close ties to his hometown and its sports' teams... Enough already. I mean, this is simply getting ridiculous. When Drake's not in attendance he's patting himself on the ass as if his attempt to reverse his own jinx by wearing the other team's shorts is even mildly responsible for one of the most ridiculously awesome buzzer-beaters in NBA history...
...but when he is in attendance he has no problem literally rubbing all of that admittedly bad juju on the already jam-packed shoulders of the Raptors' head coach during an Eastern Conference Finals game?
The only thing those two acts have in common from an inspirational standpoint is that they draw more attention to Drake than they do to the team whose results he lives and dies with. So, while I appreciate some of the courtside trolling, a mid-game massage of Nick Nurse that screams "LOOK AT ME!!!" in a shameless enough pitch to make Kevin Hart blush in embarrassment is a level of thirst that could only be precedented by an Instagram model stranded in the Sahara. In large part it is the organization's fault for giving him the official title of "global ambassador" and encouraging him to run clear around the court with it by presenting him a jacket that cost three quarters of a million dollars as a 'thank you' for...well...stealing their spotlight, I suppose?
However, he's entirely guilty of abusing that power in demanding an amount of camera time that would have you thinking he's had as big of an impact on the Toronto Raptors run to within two games of the NBA Finals as Kawhi Leonard when all he's really done is enough self-promotion for the both of them. I'm all aboard the Bucks' bandwagon, and it has nowhere near as much to do with the likability of the Raptors as it does someone who has made Spike Lee seem introverted in taking almost as much attention away from his favorite team as Giannis has.
Being that it was rooted entirely in truth, I don't have a problem with a reporter putting the man who has helped turn dysfunctional a once proud organization on the spot while his newest hire sat next to him eagerly awaiting the end of the question. That said, with that truth being so hurtful, I think it might have behooved said reporter to ask it in a less painful way. I mean, goodness gracious. If that was his attempt at ripping the bandaid off in getting at what wounded the Los Angeles Lakers' ability to hire the head coach of their choosing in an effort to satisfy a noted coach-killer in LeBron James then that bandaid was made of duct tape and wrapped repeatedly around the hairiest of situation. I can't imagine it was easy to happen upon such a sore subject, but my man beat around the bush with such a cringeworthy lack of subtlety that I'm surprised the actual point didn't leap out of the leaves due to second-hand embarrassment. Magic Johnson up and quit publicly without even notifying his boss first, and even that interview went smoother than the one in which Frank Vogel's professional pride was the collateral damage in suffering a death by a thousand cuts in the flow of questioning. I have to imagine the Lakers' backup plan would have preferred he just spit it out, even if "it" was basically a loogie to a hat that probably still smelled a bit like Tyronn Lue, as the alternative route sent him slamming into about a dozen curbs of enthusiasm...
The Warriors Aren't Better Without Kevin Durant, But it Has Got to Be Way Too Close For His Comfort5/21/2019 Three overwhelmingly accomplished seasons. Two postseasons that culminated in championships with a third that, prior to a non-contact leg injury, was perhaps even more impressive than those that eventually earned him back-to-back Finals MVP honors. That's how much time and effort Kevin Durant has put into crafting the thesis that he is an absolutely necessary part of the dynasty he attached himself to. Yet somehow, in approximately five and one quarter games, it got all-but-erased as if it were unsuccessfully saved on the at-risk Hewlett-Packard of a graduate student with a porn addiction. To be clear, Golden State is a better team with a much higher margin for error when the most unstoppable offensive player on the planet is healthy. What they aren't, however, is a team that's anywhere close to a full Kevin Durant better when they have the services of Kevin Durant, as evidenced by their increased execution and flawless playoff record without him. They definitely took advantage of a Rockets' team that has the tendency to cough up its own Kool-Aid when it matters most and a Blazers' team whose roster was as depleted as it was banged up. However, you wouldn't have to sell yourself too hard to buy the idea of the KD-less iteration of the Warriors beating the impending Eastern Conference champion with him watching from the sidelines. Of course, chances are they won't have to, as it certainly sounds like he'll be back for the Finals. However, there's no way the last week and a half hasn't felt like a gut punch to the ego of someone whose insecurities have made for no shortage of social media stupidity. "Worst nightmare" might be a stretch as we're talking about a guy that could have three rings in as many seasons in short order, but what's played out since his injury is undeniably an unideal endorsement of the same opinion that had him anonymously talking shit with teenage trolls on Twitter...
Steph Curry and Draymond Green have looked happier than pigs in shit while living their best basketball lives without Kevin Durant taking away touches. That would probably bother me if I were in his shoes, and I'm not the guy who has found himself bothered by absolutely everything over the last couple years. If he didn't spend the last season whining about every little bump on the easy road then I might even feel bad for him, and that's not something I ever envisioned myself saying about someone who made comical the competitive balance of the NBA while not even significantly improving the roster he joined because he couldn't beat. KD has done everything in his transcendentally talented power to silence the critics he brought on himself, but in what's basically guaranteed to be his final chapter in the book on the Warriors' dynasty it has proven too self-sustaining to truly let him.
Thankfully, an objectively dumb and entirely unrealistic "option" that was disingenuously brought to light in shamelessly pandering to the innumerable whiney bitches that root for high-profile dumpster fires like the Knicks and Lakers has already been put to sleep. You might want to sit down for this, but the idea that the consensus top prospect in the NBA Draft was going to pass up tens of millions of dollars in contracts and endorsements to return to the place where one shitty sneaker almost cost him his ankle while he was playing for free was proved asinine by....::audible gasp::...actually fucking speaking to him...
That being said, the fact that it even had legs, be they short and stumpy or not, in the first place made me want to check the map to make sure I wasn't thinking of Old Orleans when I envisioned Zion Williamson playing in the destination city that hosts nationally attended sporting events on a bi-annual basis. I get that the Pelicans, who come in thee most distant of second in the race for most popular pro sports team in NOLA, don't have the most reassuring history of filling the building for generation talents. However, the thought that it would be difficult for someone who was a larger-than-life household name when he was dunking on and over the next generation of accountants in high school to profit greatly off playing in a city as loud and proud as New Orleans is nothing short of stupid. Let's be real for a second, winning is what cures everything. What's being lost in all this big market manufactured hoopla is that the organization in question has put themselves in a position of which their first lucky lottery ball is unfamiliar, and said position is one of on-court promise. Whether it be in a revamped front office that's ripe with experience, throughout the gold standard of NBA training staffs, or up and down a roster that (at least currently) reads absolutely unguardable, the Pelicans are suddenly a hell of a lot further along than just about any team you'd expect to luck into the first overall pick next year. If they make anywhere near close to good on their potential then the arena, stupid name and all, will be packed with people who are more than eager to celebrate success. The same holds true for the vast majority of sports' cities, and the vast majority of sports' cities don't even offer you the opportunity to legally get loaded on the eventful walk over to potentially watch two of basketball's biggest biological anomalies play off one another in a way that's all but guaranteed to get your ass to leave your seat solely for the right reasons. While it is not a basketball hotbed, New Orleans is neither Siberia nor a place that often turns down the chance to enthusiastically embrace their own so long as they are worth embracing and are quick to embrace them in return. Contrary to reports that come across as the wishful thinking of regionalists, it doesn't appear as though the latter should be much of an issue so maybe we can stop going desperately far out of our way to make it one...
Joke or Not, Sharing a City With Zion Williamson Already Has Sean Payton's Brain in Overdrive5/15/2019
Credit to Sean Payton for doing his side job as an unofficial ambassador for a tightly knit sports' city in finding a lighthearted way to prematurely welcome a larger than life entity who is set to become NOLA's next big thing as his eventual neighbor. A clever co-sign from the Saints' beloved coach certainly won't add to Zion Williamson's alleged skepticism regarding the instantly reinvigorated regional interest in a Pelicans' team with which they share ownership. That said, while that tweet was clearly in jest, you are beside your mind if you don't think Zion Williamson could be schemed into a Pro Bowl using only the play designs that Sean Payton will involuntarily dream up after posting that photoshop. In every good joke there is a hint of truth, and the truth is that football's most beautiful mind had a hell of a lot more than one thought running around it in when he found out he'd be sharing city limits with an entirely unprecedented athletic specimen that could crunch the mold of every competitor that's come before him in between his thumb and his forefinger. For a pioneer of a play caller whose fancy appears to be tickled to near orgasmic levels every time Taysom Hill adds yet another stat to his line, you can bet your ass that being within a stone's throw of the lovechild of LeBron James and 'The Incredible Hulk' has him fluffed up off his own fan fiction. What you can't have is always what you want the most. Therefore, you can undoubtedly consider Zion Williamson to be the white whale that has Sean Payton overwhelmed like a toddler in a toy store and salivating over the X's and O's of sketches that are nothing short of sci-fi while laughing maniacally over a growing fascination with what type of godforsaken things he could be capable of on the gridiron in an alternate universe.
Admittedly, I do feel bad for the reporter. That question regarding the Blazers' big men providing less defensive pressure than a broomstick in a grainy highlight video for an overseas prospect and letting two of the deadliest shooters in NBA history waltz so casually into open dagger threes that they might as well have done so while eating ice cream during a walk on the beach was more than fair.
That said, Terry Stotts' snarky deflection was the type of mic dropper for which you simply have to tip your cap and shut your trap. It was a more than a little disingenuous, as his way of limiting a limitless backcourt was 100% the wrong way, if you want to consider it a "way" at all. However, self preservation is a skill and it was on full display in him knowing exactly what angle to take in falling back on the crutch that there really is no right way to defend the indefensible. When Steph Curry and Klay Thompson are feeling it you might as well just grip your hands tightly in prayer while saving your energy for the offensive end. Of course, you can't say that publicly as the guy tasked with making adjustments from doing absolutely nothing to actually doing something to contain them, but the Warriors have offered opposing coaches no shortage of instances in which each and every attempt at a defensive strategy was a demonstrative failure. Might as well take advantage by referencing them to quickly zip the lip of a reporter whose honesty came off confidently condescending in making an impossible job sound a bit too easy.
M Night Shyamalan, eat your heart out! Seriously, what a plot twist! It might not have made for the show we expected, but it gave us one that was insanely entertaining in its unexpected irony. The NBA has this almost inherent ability to create drama off the court, and I'll be damned if a bunch of chaos-causing ping pong balls didn't prove just that by making for an emotional roller coaster of a Draft Lottery that served as the heart-stopping high to the lullaby-like low of Game 1 of the goddamn Western Conference Finals. With the Lakers and Knicks finishing in the final four, we had two big market, high-profile franchises whose most recent claims to fame were the amount of rubbernecking they've drawn as dysfunctional dumpster fires. Yet, both basically played nothing more than the roles of the far-too-obvious suspects in an episode of CSI before the Pelicans slipped in the backdoor as the spiteful, shock-value serial killer to the rest of the room's hopes and dreams of acquiring a generational-type talent. As an unbiased observer, I saw it as a poetically just conclusion without being one that was at all inevitable ahead of time, and what more can you ask for from the best soap opera in sports? Let's face it. No matter how positively you view player empowerment, the third-party sabotaging that the entire Pelicans' organization was forced to suffer through this season was a black eye on basketball, as it was essentially the result of a hit being put out by the sport's most notable name and insatiable athlete. Look no further than Alvin Gentry's reaction for proof of that wrong now being righted and that collusion having successfully been combated...
Seems crazy that it could be good for the NBA that an athletic alien narrowly avoided landing in two cities with which that news would have undoubtedly proved most profitable, but I genuinely believe Adam Silver lucked into an huge upholding of integrity that wiped quite a few distasteful problems from his plate as Commissioner. After merely 6% proved most significant, the loser lottery now comes with unmistakable warning label that reads "tank at your own (high) risk". If there were a way to fix the draft without immediately calling all conspiracy theorists then this was it, so I appreciate the final framing of what was a complete curveball. As for what this means for a Pelicans' organization that spent months getting dragged for their inability to do right by a former first overall pick? Well, Anthony Davis can continue to speak through others in saying what he wants for now....
However, we're talking about a guy that couldn’t even take a harmlessly light-hearted parting shot on a novelty tee shirt without backtracking and make up some lie about how he's not allowed to tie his own shoes without his stylist's supervision. Therefore, I’m not buying the idea that his decision is set in stone. Anthony Davis is both impressionable (See: being used as a seven foot pawn by 'Team LeBron') and terrible at playing the villain, so I have my doubts that can't be swayed to take substantially more money to write his redemption story on a roster that, with the addition of someone who might be is equal as a genetic anomaly, suddenly seems at talented as any other that might be in the sweepstakes for his services. Who knows? Maybe AD does end up getting traded for a haul, and New Orleans does end up putting more young talent around the most structurally sound of foundational pieces in Zion Williamson. Whatever the case may be and however they go about trying to construct a contender under management that's now as qualified as it is confident, it will feel like a much more appreciable and karma-satisfying blueprint than a vast majority of the other rebuilds that could have been kickstarted last night.
ESPN- "It's going to be so much fun," Sonya Curry told ESPN. "It is. From our end, to see both of our sons to compete at this level and for the goal to be a championship is such a blessing. We never could imagine this." "One of them might go home. But we're going to the championship!" "It's going to be fun," he told ESPN. "It's going to lessen our travel schedule. That's the biggest thing. We've been traveling quite a bit. It's been fun, it's been tiresome, but it's about ready to get real now. "It's a first experience for all of us," he added. "Biggest thing is we are trying to decide who represents who." Sonya Curry has a solution for which parent will wear Blazers colors and which will wear Warriors gear. "We are flipping a coin every game," she said. ------- I'm sorry, flipping a coin? FLIPPING A COIN?!? If I were Seth Curry I'd be flipping a shit, if not heading over to my childhood home to start flipping all the furniture. I get that the Curry's are theoretically in a tough spot with their sons matching up against each other with an NBA Finals appearance on the line, but...like...are they? Are they really? Other than being front-running and preferential parents who consider one of their pregnancies to be a regrettable mistake, is there actually any justification for rooting for the superstar son who probably spent his time since Game 6 shopping for a bigger trophy case over the younger son whose first chance at glory might well be his last? I get giving diplomatic answers publicly, but I don't even think the Curry's have to considering all else is the farthest thing from equal when it comes to the disproportional career paths of their kids. If Steph were to find himself hurt by his parents being as Portland-proud as most hipsters he'd legitimately be the most selfish sibling in the history of 4+ human households, as even the most distant of cousins should be hoping the Warriors get Trailblazed. Again, this is probably just a case of Dell and Sonya having sworn themselves to suppress their support one way or the other, but if they absolutely had to pick sides and both weren't strongly on 'Team Seth' then Seth would have every right to go the free agency route in opening himself for recruitment by more deserving parents like Elijah Wood in 'North'...
I'll tell you what, Enes Kanter's pettiness is a much easier pill to swallow when he's actually playing well. In essence, when you...
...his online antics are much more endearing, appreciable, and...well...earned. That hasn't always been the case as Oklahoma City clearly considered him too much of a defensive liability to play even a complimentary role on a team that desperately needed people to fill them...
...and a woeful Knicks' team didn't even care to give him some burn despite being engulfed in a smoldering dumpster fire of a lost season...
However, he penned quite a chapter to his redemption story in battling through a separated shoulder to make a positive impact on a seven game series so tightly contested that, oddly enough, his absence alone could have potentially swung its outcome. I don't want to overstate what we was able to offer as a bench scorer who was extremely active and effective on the boards, but he undeniably deserved the opportunity to rub the Nuggets' nose in it by being an important piece of Portland's run to the Western Conference Finals. That's a lot more than can be said for attempts at internet trolling that came when the only real punchline was his stat line.
My only piece of advice for any relatively recent lottery picks in the NBA draft who happen to find themselves turned away from the VIP section of a music festival is to immediately find a gym, and find it fast. Don't waste time changing your shirt, or putting on a different hat, or attaching a fake mustache prior to giving another go at forced entry into an exclusive area of a highly secure event. Just take the hint, hang your head in shame, and go get some goddamn shots up, because a 4th overall pick in the NBA Draft that actually plays like a 4th overall pick in the NBA Draft isn't having any problem whatsoever getting preferential treatment in public. I honestly don't mean for that to come off as harsh, but Jayson Tatum would had to have rushed the stage with his dick out for the police to intervene in his concert going experience. De'Aaron Fox wouldn't even have to break out his fastest footwork to casually euro-step past security without so much as his hand stamped. You ball out like you're expected to as a Top 5 pick in a league that's closely linked with the music industry and that world might as well be your oyster. Playing in festering pit of failure that is Phoenix certainly hasn't helped his notoriety, but only being capable of putting up mediocre numbers on a pathetic team is almost as good of a way of finding yourself relegated to NBA irrelevance as fleeing the scene of an entirely unnecessary crime in handcuffs. |
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