It's been almost a week since the trade deadline, and we're still trying to figure it all out. Joey has thought A LOT about how this all affects the Knicks, so definitely give his analysis a read. Dan and Ken are also Knicks fans, so of course they talk about it, too, along with the Bulls, the Bobcats, the Kings, the Rockets, and all of the various moves. They claim that their opinions are even more valuable than an expiring contract, and who am I to argue??
In all seriousness, this episode contains the most Ken and Dan seriousness in weeks, if not ever. Serious basketball talk. Because this is beginning a serious part of the season.
Put this in your ear:
Songs from the episode:
"Money Motivated Movements" - Guilty Simpson "Busload of Faith" - Lou Reed "From One Primadonna to Another" - 90 Day Men "Won't Trade" - Q-Tip
Okay, we know the segment last episode with Josh Levin had some audio issues. We decided that the best thing to do was have him back on the show, in our first ever Make-Up Call. Ken joins in this time. New Orleans and the Hornets are discussed.
It all sounds normal. The audio part, if not the topics of conversation or the participants in said conversation.
Songs from the episode:
“Re-Ignition” - Bad Brains “Once Again (Here To Kick One For You)” - Handsome Boy Modeling School “Whatever” - Husker Du “If You Don’t Get It The First Time, Back Up and Try It Again, Party” - Fred Wesley and the J.B.’s “Another Batch (Play It Again)” - Madlib “Never See Me Again” - Vivian Girls “Try Again” - Big Star
This morning, my distinguished colleague twitted the following about everyone's favorite char-broiled NBA lightning rod, and sub-rosa racial interloper:
lingering thought-did kobe really say "i'm an 80s baby" when asked about the artest foul? what type of bs cred is he trying to buy? (and, my standard qualification: i still LOVE kobe...it's just...what a nerd)
Now, without taking anything away from Dr. LIC's intuition—yes, this sounded contrived, and almost made you think that Kobe had planned out a semi-youthful, semi-traditionalist way of framing the situation in advance. But whatever persistent reason you may have settled on for mocking Bryant (his fake-ness, his cultural uncomfortable-ness, his personality, his self-consciousness), we're all assuming that Kobe doesn't understand where Jay-Z stands these days. It's entirely conceivable that Bryant knows that, these days, Jay is pop culture detritus, not the lingua franca of street cred. The remark was fun, flippant, and knowing, an admittedly nerdy way of evoking Jay-Z as both foundational and cliched. Being goofy with hip-hop is dangerous territory, especially for Bryant, but does the alternative—that he cluelessly tried to channel the streetz and fell flat—is to give the guy way too little credit. The only thing worse than caricaturing players is caricaturing ourselves as fans.
This feeds into what might be the most compelling mano y mano rivalry of the playoffs. No, it's not Kobe/Bron; that 1 point/minute average for James has him in a stratosphere all his own for now, especially given how easy it's looked for him. It's this Kobe/Ron Ron binary that's emerged not so much on the court (all elbows aside), but in the imagination of the public. If Bryant's slammed for tip-toeing around hip-hop, Artest is lionized as a man who walks with a cloud of Mobb Deep samples over his head whether or not he ever explicitly makes the connection. If he did an entire post-game interview with Kool G Rap quotes, bloggers would faint from glee. Never mind for a second that if you want to get aesthetic about it, Artest's hip-hop analogue is M.O.P., while Kobe can tap into a far more substantial lineage of self-serious, style-laden masters. Or that Artest is going out of his way to repaint himself as a tough player, not a hood one, going so far as to suggest that there's no essential connection between the two.
And then you have Artest faintly conspired against by the league, and Kobe riding a wave of whispers about a rigged Lakers/Cavs Finals. Not to say this has turned into a study in racial or cultural contrasts—or that it should be either—but once again, Kobe's being cast in, pardon my pun, a black/white situation. Maybe Kobe isn't as "real" as Artest, but is Artest a player driven solely by what he learned from Kool G Rap fantasies? Isn't Artest way more Bad Boys than Kobe? If all this boils down to is "Artest saw friends die on the basketball court and Kobe grew up rich," then we might as well ignore everything they've accomplished, and asserted, as professional athletes—and admittedly convoluted adults.
Do that, then you can start arguing about who belongs to hip-hop, or who hip-hop belongs to, in the NBA.
I'm wary of turning these first few weeks into "FD: Yay or Nay?" for teams that have reconfigured during the off-season. But when these moments strike, I feel obliged to speak up—atone, even, when it's a squad I've dumped on in the past. While it's not exactly eating crow, since I stand by my right to have opinions, sometimes I go too far (okay, usually), and when there's a shift I swing back in the other direction and get outright penitent.
All of which is a long way of saying: Welcome back, Mavs. I know you lost that game, to a Rockets team that, despite a T-Mac who looked some combination of hurt, old, bothered by Artest, or morphing into a true point forward, had CONTENDER written all over them. You could feel Artest's presence throughout the game, mostly in the way that the undersized PF corps suddenly seemed like a movement, an undercurrent of grit and determination that really buoyed the more courtly Yao and McGrady. That's where he seemed to fit in best, not as a member of a mythical Big Three. And he was piling up points, some smart, some stupid, but never so crazy that he threw off the team's rhythm—and that was before he effectively took over the game when it needed sealing. In this respect, almost like a second T-Mac.
Still, what got me most thrilled about that game the Mavs. I know, I know, all I care about is running and flexibility. But after having spent so much time irritated by Avery's attempt to Spurs-ify Dallas, and after this summer, badly wanting to see Howard make a statement, when that team had it going I felt like I was turning up an old favorite that had previously been buried. Dirk went inside some, and yet also felt free to launch off from anywhere. The main thing was that he was fluid, not forced or strained. I may not love Jason Kidd, but in Carlisle's offense—yes, a ton of credit is due there—when he sets people up, it's for them to make a move, prove their worth, keep the game in motion. He looks happier, they look happier, and honestly, again Nowitzki can frighten you with his sheer strangeness.
And then there was Howard. Night and day from the disastrous end to last season. He got to handle the ball to get in rhythm, sometimes even bringing it up the court. He was daring but not careless, believing in his elastic, bounding moves in a way he just didn't seem to last spring. Like Dirk, nothing was forced, and yet there was an edge of danger and imagination that made you realize that this team wasn't going to be predicable, or conservative. This team is good enough to run, and resolve what might initially look crazy or out of control into a smart decision. Contrast that with the New Knicks, who at their best last night needed to think first about being smart, then gamble a little.
I'm pretty sure that Houston has the capacity to be more of a defensive force; Dallas, who knows. But for my twisted purposes, welcome back, guys.
