Before I begin (I must make up for the oversight of Michael Beasley's inexplicable awfulness in yesterday's blog. My judgement of rookie's is based on a team by team performance and Chalmers charms were enough to make me overlook Beasley's poor stat line. Also, he successfully drove to the rim for an easy lay-up without even breaking into a jog. Encumbered with a firm case of senioritis, I roll out of bed and pass classes. I like similar traits in my players.
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Malcolm Gladwell is one of my favorite writer's AND one of my favorite sports writer's. I think only Chuckie Klosto replicates the feat making me wonder if such a trait can only be dredged from small town life. In an interview with Bullshit a while back, Gladwell mentioned how growing up in rural Canada he fell in love with Sports without ever watching them. His fanhood blossomed through Newspapers and Sports Illustrated. In times like these, when I feel guilty for NOT having League Pass, it is important to remember that a lot can be learned from the pure objectivity of box scores.
I look at the first two games of the Rockets season. One win comes from gritty, down and dirty, Larry Brown ball the other a ravishing offensive display. Yesterday was a statement game. Like everyone is saying and I have faultily been saying for five years these Rockets are contenders. It was true the last year two years but Yao injuries and matchup problems with Utah halted the message. This stopped them from shining, but the errors made the Rockets sing even louder. We'll be trumpeting them for the rest of the year. A second round appearance will come and no one will care. That is what makes this team great.
Yesterday's victory over Dallas and a reformed Nowitzki came in affront to all basketball logic. McGrady's offensive output and Carlisle's defensive schemes are true in a way the Bradley effect never will be. They just plain happen regardless of nitpicking. I watched Carlisle coach the Pistons for several years and he knows how to make Defense play out like offense. Last night was a statement game for the new Mavs to come out, but the Rockets goaded them into the jaunty Mavericking of yore with their best threat on the bench. Artest turned offensive and Yao shook off the dust for a fundamentally sound 30.
Let me stress how premature this all is.
The Danger of the Rockets is not that they can play any style of ball. The danger, the true threat to Celtic Pride and Laker inevitablity is that they can play any way with any combination of players. Yao, McGrady, and Artest just do it for me and the rest of the gang is one hella funky bunch. The scribes (even the scholars at our hero FreeDarko) denounced that Yao's return would mitigate the breed of defensive small ball lingering from last season. These visions cast Yao as a plodder--which he is-- but a plodder with his deft touch and passing game fits any offense, any style, and can turn basketball into a satirical game. The Webber Kings brought back fun offensive maneuvering with no emphasis on speed or athleticism. They started Peja and Vlade Divac, a shadow of Yao formed from cigarette smoke.
They will never run in Seven Seconds or Less but they can play the half court as fluidly as anyone so long as Yao mans the high post.
Yao is injury prone you say? Yes, that is true but no one is indispensable. Three Amigos fellate karma with their preparation. One man down destroys nothing. McGrady and Yao can limp through games and the Rockets still have the best big three in the L. No apologies to KG, Pierce, and Allen. Apologies to KG, Pierce, and Rondo.
What does Ron Artest do? The Mother Fucker plays great basketball. I read a lot about basketball, far too much by all accounts and the basketball voices of our time have taken to tearing down Artest for behavioral issues. The same thing happens with me. I might put holes in your wall but I'm still one fun motherfucker to have around.
I am proud to be a Piston fan today. I am not proud of my team, my arena, or blabbermouthed Mason on the PA. I can't abide another MiggitymiggityMaC Dyess. I'm proud of Pistons fans b/c we know our basketball. Though Ron Ron charged into the stands and beat the bejujubees from some hillbillies, we never denounced the man. He was unwelcome at barbecues and brisses but our hatred burned as a dormant ember, a far cry from the blood lust for Ben Wallace. Ron's abilities on the floor made him impossible to cherish like Rodman before him. We know a miscast hero when we see one and clamored for Artest's arrival and the ensuing PR debacle in the off season.
It would never happen but we wanted it. We WANTED the player who charged into the stands. No one wanted the equally available Jermaine but Ron Ron speaks in specialness.
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Fuck. It's 6:30 on Halloween. I've got a RAVE to prepare for.
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