"Homer, I don't use the word hero very often, but you are the greatest hero in American history." -Lionel Hutz
Read this story and just try and tell me the NFL doesn't have a front-runner for its 2005 Walter Payton Man of the Year award.
Friday, May 27, 2005
My Toy Soldiers
I guess Romeo Crennel wasn't a big fan of The Pacifier, because the Browns just fined second-year tight end Vin Diesel up to five million dollars for his recent motorcycle riding.
Wait, make that Kellen Winslow II, from whom the Browns will withhold a $2 million portion of his signing bonus in addition to the two to three million he's reportedly expected to pay back.
What this really means is that the Browns are confident Winslow will never play at a high level again. If he does come back, there's no way he's sticking around in Cleveland. Would you? Yes, the motorcycle accident was his fault, but this is hardly a man who has demonstrated a high level of maturity in his short time in the public eye. Who would want to stay with a company that asked for that much money back anyway?
Even if he recovered fully and had a long, productive career, that money is a huge portion of his expected earnings (expected by me, that is), if only because of his position.
I'm certain Sergeant Winslow regrets his actions. Hopefully he also regrets hiring whoever wrote that apology for him.
"To those members of the Cleveland Browns family who I have disappointed by my decision to ride a motorcycle, I humbly apologize." Who wrote that, Yoda? To those members I apologize, hmmmm?
"While many of you are disappointed that I will not be on the field with my teammates for this upcoming season, no one is more disappointed in this fact than me." I can't quite put my finger on why, but that is one of my favorite sentences of all-time. I would say it sounds like K2 had a flashback to his college days and was trying to pad his word count with some welcome verbosity, but I think that's a slap in the face to the University of Miami. There's no way the Hurricanes make their stars write their own papers.
Wait, make that Kellen Winslow II, from whom the Browns will withhold a $2 million portion of his signing bonus in addition to the two to three million he's reportedly expected to pay back.
What this really means is that the Browns are confident Winslow will never play at a high level again. If he does come back, there's no way he's sticking around in Cleveland. Would you? Yes, the motorcycle accident was his fault, but this is hardly a man who has demonstrated a high level of maturity in his short time in the public eye. Who would want to stay with a company that asked for that much money back anyway?
Even if he recovered fully and had a long, productive career, that money is a huge portion of his expected earnings (expected by me, that is), if only because of his position.
I'm certain Sergeant Winslow regrets his actions. Hopefully he also regrets hiring whoever wrote that apology for him.
"To those members of the Cleveland Browns family who I have disappointed by my decision to ride a motorcycle, I humbly apologize." Who wrote that, Yoda? To those members I apologize, hmmmm?
"While many of you are disappointed that I will not be on the field with my teammates for this upcoming season, no one is more disappointed in this fact than me." I can't quite put my finger on why, but that is one of my favorite sentences of all-time. I would say it sounds like K2 had a flashback to his college days and was trying to pad his word count with some welcome verbosity, but I think that's a slap in the face to the University of Miami. There's no way the Hurricanes make their stars write their own papers.
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
(Insert Dumb Rice Pun Here Because He's Cooked)
Finally! The Broncos have today filled a gaping hole by reaching an agreement with wide receiver Jerry Rice, recently of Seattle Seahawks fame, to maybe play for us next year. From ESPN.com's Len Pasquarelli:
"Rice on Wednesday agreed to a one-year contract with the Denver Broncos, where he is expected to vie for a spot as the team's No. 4 wideout."
No. 4 wideout? Here I was worried about mounting a pass rush, or running the football, but our detail-orineted organization surely left no stone unturned in finding a competent fourth receiver. Wait a second, I'm not even sure we have a competent No. 2 receiver.
Again from ESPN: "Broncos coach Mike Shanahan said last week that, when he made his sales pitch to Rice by phone, he made no guarantees about a roster spot."
Ouch. I'd make age jokes here and talk about how it might be time for Rice to retire, but that time has long, long since past.
Rice is occasionally referred to as the best football player ever, which I think is beyond ludicrous, but he is clearly history's preeminent receiver.
One nice thing about this clearly-meaningless turn of events, though, is that it gives the Broncos the chance to claim they once had arguably the NFL's all-time greatest player at a fourth position, joining John Elway at quarterback, Shannon Sharpe at tight end, and Gerald Wilhite at fullback.
"Rice on Wednesday agreed to a one-year contract with the Denver Broncos, where he is expected to vie for a spot as the team's No. 4 wideout."
No. 4 wideout? Here I was worried about mounting a pass rush, or running the football, but our detail-orineted organization surely left no stone unturned in finding a competent fourth receiver. Wait a second, I'm not even sure we have a competent No. 2 receiver.
Again from ESPN: "Broncos coach Mike Shanahan said last week that, when he made his sales pitch to Rice by phone, he made no guarantees about a roster spot."
Ouch. I'd make age jokes here and talk about how it might be time for Rice to retire, but that time has long, long since past.
Rice is occasionally referred to as the best football player ever, which I think is beyond ludicrous, but he is clearly history's preeminent receiver.
One nice thing about this clearly-meaningless turn of events, though, is that it gives the Broncos the chance to claim they once had arguably the NFL's all-time greatest player at a fourth position, joining John Elway at quarterback, Shannon Sharpe at tight end, and Gerald Wilhite at fullback.
Them Ping-Pong Balls
So Monday night I was flying home from vacation/law school graduation (definitely not my law school graduation; big ups instead to my brother John on that one) with every intention of watching the first game of the Heat-Pistons conference finals and reporting on it right here, since it's the series with actual suspense. Fortunately I was flying Frontier and, as you have probably seen on those commercials with the talking animals, I get DirecTV right at my seat.
Unfortunately I didn't pay close enough attention to the fine print, which is that I was not actually flying on Frontier, but rather something called Frontier Jet Express operated by Horizon Air. I don't even know what that means.
(Oh, wait, yes I do: it means that instead of taxiing right up to the gate like the rest of you losers, I got to exit my plane down a metal stairway right onto the tarmac and enjoy the outdoors for a brief moment before I have to enter the stuffy old airport. I felt like the President or something, except that before takeoff, he's not overpowered by the barbeque sauce stench of the burger-inhaling older gentleman sitting next to him.)
So I ended up with an overly chatty pilot instead of a television, and thus you don't get any insightful analysis on that front.
But, thankfully, this week also contained the potential highlight of every Nuggets season of the last ten years or so, excluding, of course, the last two: the draft lottery. I don't know why I got excited every year; despite always-abysmal records, the Nuggets inevitably ended up missing out on the chance to draft future stars like Paul Pierce, Amare Stoudemire, and Dwyane Wade. Oh, wait, no, we didn't.
One trap I'm glad I never fell into as a fan was the constant whining that the draft lottery is fixed. Unlike many fans, I just don't think that's true. And to prove it, I was going to go through every year to make my point, but I was only a few seasons in before I was boring myself to death.
Yes, the NBA has an obvious interest in keeping its big-market teams competitive. Just like baseball. Football too, I guess, though I think it's popular enough for that not to matter.
Many league observers assume the best way to keep big-market teams in the forefront is to make sure one of them wins the draft lottery. Else why have a draft lottery in the first place? I think it's just a cheesy promotional gimmick, not a sinister game-fixing tool, and hey, it worked on me. (Aside from which, if getting the top pick is really going to make that big of a difference, then pretty soon there wouldn't be any big-market teams eligible for the lottery, right?)
The prime example everyone cites of lottery-fixing is Patrick Ewing going to New York in 1985. Each non-playoff team had an equal chance at the time, so it really wasn't a huge stretch that he got there. (Obviously teams didn't really have an equal chance if the results were really planned in advance, but if anything, it's the early rules of the draft lottery, not its results, that were ridiculous.)
Then a year like this comes along, and Milwaukee, not exactly an American cultural center, wins the lottery. So what's up now?
I can hear it now: wait a second, Mike, who cares what team gets the top selection when the top player might be from Australia? Good point-the draft and, more to the point, future careers are not entirely predictable. Sometimes the guy who ends up being the best player is picked further down, sometimes the top choices aren't that great. So what the NBA must do is just fix it whenever there's an obvious star coming out and go with an actual lottery in other years, right?
Unfortunately for this theory, there's a huge list of obvious future superstars who didn't end up in big markets. For example, Shaquille O'Neal and Alonzo Mourning both came out in 1992, but Orlando and Charlotte ended up holding the top selections.
Orlando won again in 1993 and picked Chris Webber (though the Magic ended up trading him for the equally-soft Penny Hardaway). I don't know what motivation the league would have had to help out a then-recent expansion team so much as to give them the top pick two years in a row. Grant Hill and Jason Kidd were available in 1994 when Milwaukee won the lottery over big teams like the Lakers, Clippers and Celtics. (Though of course the Bucks, in their infinite wisdom (and foreshadowing of things to come, if they really take Marvin Williams this year), went for neither, and instead chose Glenn Robinson.)
Fast-forward to 1997, when Tim Duncan was the most obvious can't-miss player since Ewing (though by now he's clearly surpassed Ewing as a player-in fact, for years I've thought what the Sports Guy of ESPN.com recently said, that Duncan is the best power forward in league history). If ever the NBA had a reason to fix the lottery, this would be the year, and the Celtics, having two picks, had a great shot at Duncan.
That would have been good for the league, but the Celtics were in really terrible shape. Okay, Duncan could have gone to Philadelphia and teamed up with Allen Iverson, coming off a tremendous first season. Or he could have headed to the Nets, who are at least the bastard stepchild in a big market. Instead, he ended up in San Antonio, which was good news for David Robinson, but not particularly exciting for the NBA. (Consider the amount of love Duncan would get if he was in New Jersey or Boston-for starters, people would stop acting like Kevin Garnett is his equal.)
Bonus Nuggets fan trivia: 1997 was the year we chose Tony Battie over Tracy McGrady. Thank you, Allan Bristow!
There weren't any obvious future franchise cornerstones for a few years, but in 2002, we had the Yao Ming and Jay Williams duo. Williams was clearly way overrated, but Yao was at least intriguing, and he ended up in Houston when New York or the Clips could have had him.
And finally, LeBron James in 2003. Lottery entrants that year included the Knicks, Bulls, and the Detroit Pistons, who were not only from a big city but clearly a team with a good chance of success the following season (like an NBA championship). Instead, James ended up in his hometown of Cleveland (well, it's not really his hometown, but close enough), which had the same best chance of winning as our proud, creamy Nougats. Some still argue LeBron was destined for Cleveland; I disagree.
So there you have it, the NBA draft lottery is definitely not loaded in favor of big-market teams. Now, playoff officiating...
Unfortunately I didn't pay close enough attention to the fine print, which is that I was not actually flying on Frontier, but rather something called Frontier Jet Express operated by Horizon Air. I don't even know what that means.
(Oh, wait, yes I do: it means that instead of taxiing right up to the gate like the rest of you losers, I got to exit my plane down a metal stairway right onto the tarmac and enjoy the outdoors for a brief moment before I have to enter the stuffy old airport. I felt like the President or something, except that before takeoff, he's not overpowered by the barbeque sauce stench of the burger-inhaling older gentleman sitting next to him.)
So I ended up with an overly chatty pilot instead of a television, and thus you don't get any insightful analysis on that front.
But, thankfully, this week also contained the potential highlight of every Nuggets season of the last ten years or so, excluding, of course, the last two: the draft lottery. I don't know why I got excited every year; despite always-abysmal records, the Nuggets inevitably ended up missing out on the chance to draft future stars like Paul Pierce, Amare Stoudemire, and Dwyane Wade. Oh, wait, no, we didn't.
One trap I'm glad I never fell into as a fan was the constant whining that the draft lottery is fixed. Unlike many fans, I just don't think that's true. And to prove it, I was going to go through every year to make my point, but I was only a few seasons in before I was boring myself to death.
Yes, the NBA has an obvious interest in keeping its big-market teams competitive. Just like baseball. Football too, I guess, though I think it's popular enough for that not to matter.
Many league observers assume the best way to keep big-market teams in the forefront is to make sure one of them wins the draft lottery. Else why have a draft lottery in the first place? I think it's just a cheesy promotional gimmick, not a sinister game-fixing tool, and hey, it worked on me. (Aside from which, if getting the top pick is really going to make that big of a difference, then pretty soon there wouldn't be any big-market teams eligible for the lottery, right?)
The prime example everyone cites of lottery-fixing is Patrick Ewing going to New York in 1985. Each non-playoff team had an equal chance at the time, so it really wasn't a huge stretch that he got there. (Obviously teams didn't really have an equal chance if the results were really planned in advance, but if anything, it's the early rules of the draft lottery, not its results, that were ridiculous.)
Then a year like this comes along, and Milwaukee, not exactly an American cultural center, wins the lottery. So what's up now?
I can hear it now: wait a second, Mike, who cares what team gets the top selection when the top player might be from Australia? Good point-the draft and, more to the point, future careers are not entirely predictable. Sometimes the guy who ends up being the best player is picked further down, sometimes the top choices aren't that great. So what the NBA must do is just fix it whenever there's an obvious star coming out and go with an actual lottery in other years, right?
Unfortunately for this theory, there's a huge list of obvious future superstars who didn't end up in big markets. For example, Shaquille O'Neal and Alonzo Mourning both came out in 1992, but Orlando and Charlotte ended up holding the top selections.
Orlando won again in 1993 and picked Chris Webber (though the Magic ended up trading him for the equally-soft Penny Hardaway). I don't know what motivation the league would have had to help out a then-recent expansion team so much as to give them the top pick two years in a row. Grant Hill and Jason Kidd were available in 1994 when Milwaukee won the lottery over big teams like the Lakers, Clippers and Celtics. (Though of course the Bucks, in their infinite wisdom (and foreshadowing of things to come, if they really take Marvin Williams this year), went for neither, and instead chose Glenn Robinson.)
Fast-forward to 1997, when Tim Duncan was the most obvious can't-miss player since Ewing (though by now he's clearly surpassed Ewing as a player-in fact, for years I've thought what the Sports Guy of ESPN.com recently said, that Duncan is the best power forward in league history). If ever the NBA had a reason to fix the lottery, this would be the year, and the Celtics, having two picks, had a great shot at Duncan.
That would have been good for the league, but the Celtics were in really terrible shape. Okay, Duncan could have gone to Philadelphia and teamed up with Allen Iverson, coming off a tremendous first season. Or he could have headed to the Nets, who are at least the bastard stepchild in a big market. Instead, he ended up in San Antonio, which was good news for David Robinson, but not particularly exciting for the NBA. (Consider the amount of love Duncan would get if he was in New Jersey or Boston-for starters, people would stop acting like Kevin Garnett is his equal.)
Bonus Nuggets fan trivia: 1997 was the year we chose Tony Battie over Tracy McGrady. Thank you, Allan Bristow!
There weren't any obvious future franchise cornerstones for a few years, but in 2002, we had the Yao Ming and Jay Williams duo. Williams was clearly way overrated, but Yao was at least intriguing, and he ended up in Houston when New York or the Clips could have had him.
And finally, LeBron James in 2003. Lottery entrants that year included the Knicks, Bulls, and the Detroit Pistons, who were not only from a big city but clearly a team with a good chance of success the following season (like an NBA championship). Instead, James ended up in his hometown of Cleveland (well, it's not really his hometown, but close enough), which had the same best chance of winning as our proud, creamy Nougats. Some still argue LeBron was destined for Cleveland; I disagree.
So there you have it, the NBA draft lottery is definitely not loaded in favor of big-market teams. Now, playoff officiating...
Tuesday, May 3, 2005
Game Four
"Playing Phoenix and Charles Barkley in the 1993 Finals was like playing against your little brother and knowing you're well-equipped.
"Your little brother might beat you one or two times out of seven, but you know he's going to get beat in the end.
"The Suns didn't know how to win. They knew how to compete, but they didn't know how to win. There is a difference." -Michael Jordan, "For the Love of the Game"
Last night watching Game 4 of the Nuggets-Spurs series, the above quote kept coming to mind. Well, not the whole thing, that would make me some kind of savant, but the part about competing versus winning. No team over the last two years knows more about competing but less about winning than the Nuggets.
I don't mean it as a knock (believe me, I'm still so grateful we're even in playoff contention); I just mean to show the kind of improvement the Nuggets need to make to become an elite team.
For once, it's not an issue of talent.
Last night really came down to mental toughness. The Nuggets fought back, but the Spurs were absolutely unstoppable when they had to be.
In the fourth quarter Denver made a furious rally to take the lead, but the Spurs settled down and just played basketball.
(Don't you love analysis like that? They made plays when they had to.)
What really happened is that the playoff-hardened Spurs maintained focus and executed with the game on the line, whereas the Nuggets played on emotion for too long and ran out of steam.
At three minutes remaining, the Nuggets had just taken a 99-97 lead on Earl Boykins' bank shot in the lane. The Spurs come back and Duncan scored to tie. Then Boykins hit that three-pointer that turned out to be just a long two. If it had been a three, who knows?
I bet nothing would have changed-the Spurs don't panic. Yet the smallest Nugget made the smallest of mistakes.
As it was, Duncan answered again to tie the game. Carmelo scored on a layup, then Kenyon Martin fouled out on the other end trying to stop Duncan.
(By the way, bravo to the $100 Million Man for stepping up when we needed it. I don't think 12 points and six rebounds are quite what anyone had in mind for the biggest game of the year, but I don't blame Martin-I blame Kiki Vandeweghe for thinking Martin would be a difference-maker in the first place. If the Nuggets are the team that competes hard but doesn't always win in the clutch, then the fiery Martin is the personification of that idea applied to players.)
Duncan sank both free throws with 1:37 left to tie the game again. At this point, the Nuggets are competing, both teams are scoring every single time and the competitive-but-choppy game is on the verge of becoming a classic.
On the Nuggets' next possession, Camby's open for a baseline jumper, which, of course, he's unable to resist, barely drawing iron on his wild shot. Then, with a minute five to play, The Amazing Ginobili! lays it in for the 105-103 lead.
(Wow, I am sick of hearing about The Amazing Ginobili! I get it, he's had a good series and he's not American (which, taken together, actually is pretty remarkable, I guess). But the guy could give George Lucas tips on how to generate hype.)
Anyway, that sequence really showed the difference between the teams at a point when every basket was critical. Camby Cane forced up a ludicrous shot, and Genome did his little twisting, lefty act to get a big bucket. Not just two, but a layup for two! With sixty-five seconds left in the Nuggets' biggest game of the year!
The Nuggets weren't finished yet. Boykins dished to Melo on the right side, who made that spinning, one-handed catch he cashed in for a money jumper. Parker hit from the baseline, then Carmelo posted up Horry on the other side, drove hard to the lane, then took a horribly awkward shot to avoid contact and was bailed out, sinking both of his free throws to tie.
Somehow Greg Buckner blocked All-NBA First Teamer Ginobili's shot at the other end to force overtime, when...well, you know what happened there. The Nuggets fell apart like the French army.
Talk about losing focus under pressure. Genome's flop on the inbounds pass to Andre Miller somehow became the stake in the heart-that is, if you consider the Nuggets to be vampires. But that's the difference between a team that exectues well and plays calmly to win, like the Spurs, and a team that competes hard and plays off emotion, like the Nuggets.
What can the Nuggets do to improve?
I think Barkley said it well at halftime: we could use a real point guard, and Carmelo could be better at posting up.
There was a little truth to Anthony's Melo-centric postgame contention that he should have gotten the ball more, but he could have worked to make himself a little more open, too. Often his positioning would have forced a dangerous entry pass.
Doug Moe said it at halftime, but he could have been speaking of the whole game: "We gotta play better defense. Our defense stinks."
The Nuggets played their butts off, especially offensively, but couldn't stop or even really slow the Spurs down the stretch. And that was key.
Again, it's not about talent. Denver stayed right with the Spurs throughout the end of regulation. When the Nuggets learn to calm down and play smart in the closing minutes of tight ballgames, then they'll finally join the Spurs among the NBA's elite.
"Your little brother might beat you one or two times out of seven, but you know he's going to get beat in the end.
"The Suns didn't know how to win. They knew how to compete, but they didn't know how to win. There is a difference." -Michael Jordan, "For the Love of the Game"
Last night watching Game 4 of the Nuggets-Spurs series, the above quote kept coming to mind. Well, not the whole thing, that would make me some kind of savant, but the part about competing versus winning. No team over the last two years knows more about competing but less about winning than the Nuggets.
I don't mean it as a knock (believe me, I'm still so grateful we're even in playoff contention); I just mean to show the kind of improvement the Nuggets need to make to become an elite team.
For once, it's not an issue of talent.
Last night really came down to mental toughness. The Nuggets fought back, but the Spurs were absolutely unstoppable when they had to be.
In the fourth quarter Denver made a furious rally to take the lead, but the Spurs settled down and just played basketball.
(Don't you love analysis like that? They made plays when they had to.)
What really happened is that the playoff-hardened Spurs maintained focus and executed with the game on the line, whereas the Nuggets played on emotion for too long and ran out of steam.
At three minutes remaining, the Nuggets had just taken a 99-97 lead on Earl Boykins' bank shot in the lane. The Spurs come back and Duncan scored to tie. Then Boykins hit that three-pointer that turned out to be just a long two. If it had been a three, who knows?
I bet nothing would have changed-the Spurs don't panic. Yet the smallest Nugget made the smallest of mistakes.
As it was, Duncan answered again to tie the game. Carmelo scored on a layup, then Kenyon Martin fouled out on the other end trying to stop Duncan.
(By the way, bravo to the $100 Million Man for stepping up when we needed it. I don't think 12 points and six rebounds are quite what anyone had in mind for the biggest game of the year, but I don't blame Martin-I blame Kiki Vandeweghe for thinking Martin would be a difference-maker in the first place. If the Nuggets are the team that competes hard but doesn't always win in the clutch, then the fiery Martin is the personification of that idea applied to players.)
Duncan sank both free throws with 1:37 left to tie the game again. At this point, the Nuggets are competing, both teams are scoring every single time and the competitive-but-choppy game is on the verge of becoming a classic.
On the Nuggets' next possession, Camby's open for a baseline jumper, which, of course, he's unable to resist, barely drawing iron on his wild shot. Then, with a minute five to play, The Amazing Ginobili! lays it in for the 105-103 lead.
(Wow, I am sick of hearing about The Amazing Ginobili! I get it, he's had a good series and he's not American (which, taken together, actually is pretty remarkable, I guess). But the guy could give George Lucas tips on how to generate hype.)
Anyway, that sequence really showed the difference between the teams at a point when every basket was critical. Camby Cane forced up a ludicrous shot, and Genome did his little twisting, lefty act to get a big bucket. Not just two, but a layup for two! With sixty-five seconds left in the Nuggets' biggest game of the year!
The Nuggets weren't finished yet. Boykins dished to Melo on the right side, who made that spinning, one-handed catch he cashed in for a money jumper. Parker hit from the baseline, then Carmelo posted up Horry on the other side, drove hard to the lane, then took a horribly awkward shot to avoid contact and was bailed out, sinking both of his free throws to tie.
Somehow Greg Buckner blocked All-NBA First Teamer Ginobili's shot at the other end to force overtime, when...well, you know what happened there. The Nuggets fell apart like the French army.
Talk about losing focus under pressure. Genome's flop on the inbounds pass to Andre Miller somehow became the stake in the heart-that is, if you consider the Nuggets to be vampires. But that's the difference between a team that exectues well and plays calmly to win, like the Spurs, and a team that competes hard and plays off emotion, like the Nuggets.
What can the Nuggets do to improve?
I think Barkley said it well at halftime: we could use a real point guard, and Carmelo could be better at posting up.
There was a little truth to Anthony's Melo-centric postgame contention that he should have gotten the ball more, but he could have worked to make himself a little more open, too. Often his positioning would have forced a dangerous entry pass.
Doug Moe said it at halftime, but he could have been speaking of the whole game: "We gotta play better defense. Our defense stinks."
The Nuggets played their butts off, especially offensively, but couldn't stop or even really slow the Spurs down the stretch. And that was key.
Again, it's not about talent. Denver stayed right with the Spurs throughout the end of regulation. When the Nuggets learn to calm down and play smart in the closing minutes of tight ballgames, then they'll finally join the Spurs among the NBA's elite.
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