Invites for Frost

I don't like what I'm hearing. Not from LeBron, who has boldly asserted that he could win the scoring title every year, but from the rest of us. No, it's not the case that any other player could top LeBron if both gunned all-out, Gervin/Thompson-style, each day of the night. You know why? Because unlike Durant or Melo, James has way more at his disposal. He could work the post, or just run up the court and through all defenders on every possession. Yes, it was a matter-of-fact statement, calm and hardly with the lurch of a braggart. At the same time, LeBron is differentiating himself from his peers. Hey, everybody, he has untapped potential still. He knows it, and if he totally broke out of a team system to go for numbers—which, incidentally, he is less likely to do than anyone on this short-list—amazing thing would happen. We used to know it, and now he's slipping it in himself. Going after him for it seems a waste of time, but at the same time, there is something chilling about this off-hand press release. Forget at your own peril.

I am about to say two things involving NBC's Pro Basketball Talk, both of which involve folks I consider e-pals. So no one think this is a mix-tape war. Kurt lead the "is this news?" charge on the LeBron front; to him, I say yes and no. In what order, I'm not sure. No, in that we should knew, but yes, in that he reminds us? Or yes, in that it he reminds us (and himself) what's still buried inside him, and no, after that it's a no-brainer. Let's move on. Krolik, whom some of you may remember from his contributions to this site, took poor Monta Ellis to task the same day for calling himself the third-best player in the league. First, I would like to thank John for bringing to my attention Rolling Stone's embrace of Durant. Of course, it all makes sense—KD, and the Thunder in general, are the most indie rock-friendly team in the league. They even took that from the Sonics' storied past. El ouch. As for the meat of the story, look, shouldn't Ellis be ignored even more forcefully than James? Let him have his fun. If you think he's the problem with the Warriors, you must have an undue amount of faith in the D-League.

Ellis isn't perfect, and his career is at loggerheads. But if an obviously talented, frustrated, and aimless still-young guard on a team built out of nonsense brags to a generally indifferent media, is he really going to war? Not to neglect my role as a member of the media, but come on, let's give Ellis a break. At least until we're all convinced that he's being given a chance to screw up convincingly. Neither his non "right way" play (either caps or quotations all the time, I thought), nor his inflated ego are tethered to reality. I don't know, maybe I'm underestimating all these call-ups. But this is a man floating through trauma. Do we really want to hold him accountable in the same way—even less so, maybe—than the game's best player? Ellis may deserve more grief than James, and is certainly empirically wrong in a slew of ways, but it's only LeBron James whose words have any meaning past the narrow context of "punk spews crap" headline.

Oh, and Amare hates T-Mac. Pass it on.

Sam Cassell Gestures

Ken and Dan discuss the role of a crazy guy like Matt Barnes on a team like the Magic, also reflecting on past instances of living by page one of "the macho code" in order to succeed in the playoffs. Barnes’ intensity/recklessness also seems relevant now because of the “Winning Time” documentary from ESPN, the connection to which is nicely articulated by Dan Devine at Ball Don’t Lie.

Ken and Dan also discuss the media’s reaction to Iverson. Which is sad. Such is life.

To kick off the show, Ken does a little basketblogger outreach and tells the world about a few of our listeners who happen to have blogs or podcasts of their own. These projects are listed below. It would mean a great deal to the both Ken and Dan if you would give some of your fellow DOC listeners a chance to entertain you with their efforts . . . you just might discover your next favorite voice. Here’s the list:

• Andre Babyn - paorta.wordpress.com
• Bradley Hartsell - myexpiringcontract.com
• Ben Steele - orderofthecourt.blogspot.com
• Henry Sherrell - fourpointplay.weebly.com
• Luke Vodicka - thestubbornbird.wordpress.com
• Ethan Sherwood Strauss - WarriorsWorld.net and Salon.com
• Doug Mayfield - dank-game.blogspot.com
• Nick Gelso - NorthStationSports.com and celticslatenightshow.com (a Celtics podcast)
• Hank McCoy - Courtsidebasketball.blogspot.com
• Tyler Whitcomb - nbadraftscouts.com
• William Purdy - expiringcontracts.blogspot.com
• Bay Area Sports Report - thebayareasportsreport.tumblr.com
• Waiting For Groza - waitingforgroza.blogspot.com
  

Lend your ear:



The music from this episode:

* Auld Lang Syne - Glen Miller Orchestra
* Dirty Boulevard - Lou Reed
* Stranger Song - Leanord Cohen
* Smith and Jones Forever - Silver Jews

The Day the Earth Stood Stil

The problem with trying to write about my old-new (or is it new-old?) gig at FanHouse? All that comes to mind is cliches, which even when damaged remain cliches. They say you can't go home again, but you can. They say they never really miss you till you're dead or you're gone. Yet cliches, and their bastard derivatives, are true for a reason. So, as they say in Spartacus, it's huntin' time!!!!

I started my professional blogging career at AOL back in 2006, which was also when the sky opened up and this started to look like a viable career for many of us. We were are so young then. That's when I got to know Ziller, Skeets, Matt Watson, Alana G, Nate Jones, and a slew of other talented folks who were part of that early operation, helmed by the indomitable Jamie Mottram. But it was fun like the gold rush was fun, which meant we also worked hard, dealt with growing pains–ours, AOL's, the field's—and drove ourselves into the ground. I bled and cried as much as anyone, which is a weird thought if you know me. So eventually I left for cushier pastures, like when everyone on Deadwood keeps threatening to go back East and take a bath.

As time went by, though, I saw my old friends rise in the ranks. I saw bloggers get the respect they deserved. I saw FanHouse look less like a free-for-all, and more like a German automobile, which I'm pretty sure ruins my Deadwood analogy. And so, after two years away, I'm back starting today. I'll still be a little less nuts than on FD, but they want me for me. I'm reunited with Tom, which means more far-out infographics. Matt's now my boss, but refuses to let me call him "Sir Watson" or "Mr. Livingston". It's good to be back working with the likes of Brett and Nate, as well as folks like Rob Peterson and Matt Moore whom I met in the interim. Producer Randy Kim is someone I share some real world, non-hoops friends with. Ain't that a sign.

Speaking of change, let it be known that Eric Freeman, a.k.a. Ty Keenan, is taking over The Baseline. I think he sent an email to some press people entitled "FreeDarko Sleeper Cell Emerges at Sporting News." This post on first coaching jobs is an early favorite of mine.

He wanted me to call this announcement "Tell your God to be ready for blood," but that was scary. So I've opted for a straightforward title, and this Robert John Wilkins/Rolling Stones quote for the close: "Kill that calf and call the family round/my son was lost but now he is found/'cause that's the way for us to get along". You were just spared a Fat Joe clip, so be thankful and get pumped!!!!!!

Crank It Up, Feel the Health

I never thought I'd get a chance to experience Tiger Woods, or Brett Favre, but here I am. As best as I can tell, NBA blogging exists at this point to type, all drivel-like, about whatever someone told someone else in the last hour. Good thing I am busy with the book. However, one thing's clear: There's a lot of bullshit in the air, of the worst, inflammatory kind. And once that stuff is said, there's no going back. No correction ever really repairs things. The process by which a celebrity beats back initial false reports is almost as fascinating as it is sickening. And as I've said, some public figures simply lack the clout to move past it.

I come here not to blindly defend Arenas, or offer explanations as I did when Delonte rolled around strapped. I still don't know, any better than you or the constantly updated news stories do, what happened and how it interfaces with the law. But a lot of the reporting here, and blog dissemination of it, is straight out of last summer's campaign. I know, Sharpton's contrasting the arena Obama watches games at with steel in the locker room. And yet isn't this "where there's smoke, there's outrage" b/w "there's always next hour's web update to clean things up" approach to news exactly what allowed the right to get traction with stupid shit throughout the campaign?

But in a lot of ways, this is even worse. Dear everyone, do you remember who broke the John Woo-ready version of the story? Peter Vecsey. Along with Sam Smith, he's pretty much the one reporter whose rumors you might as well write the opposite of and go from there. Now in this case, he did have a kernel of truth in what he wrote. Yet he wrapped it up in every conceivable layer of sensationalism, and continues to even in the thrice-scrubbed-over version of the story that sits on the Post's site now.

(Lang reminded me that Gil pointed out that one of Vecsey's original sources was a street ball player. Appropriate, seeing as Vecsey's the And1 of NBA reportage.)

Vecsey unleashed a scene right out of the old cowboy Pacers, Yahoo! actually came first, but theirs was much more solidly on the back of previous reports about the investigation. And from there, all hell broke loose. We built this city on Peter Vecsey; Yahoo!'s far more responsible report inadvertently added fuel to the fire. It was a classic example of going for broke with the news micro-cycle—and, if anyone cares, setting up readers of print dailies to be completely misinformed for days on end.

Have I brought up Vecsey enough? Anyone remember when he claimed Josh Smith and Zaza were fightin' with fists in their locker room, and then had Smith attacking bouncers? These were major blows against a young player teetering between "future star" and "head case." Then, lo and behold, AJC beat writer supreme Sekou Smith—who was there—set the record straight. Read the whole link, but the gist: Peter Vecsey is a snake who makes shit up for tabloid reasons. Anyone who doesn't conduct themselves with this fact in mind is no better than him.



Now I'm just getting angry, which is when I'm at my least beautiful. Suffice it to say that I also find it odd how conveniently Gil's "moral turpitude" fits in with the Wizards long-term business interests. As was Monta's with the Warriors. So in conclusion, this would be a good moment for us all to learn to take a deep breath, not listen to false prophets, and realize that like it or not, sometimes these things take time. Otherwise, you might as well believe message boards. Those shits get updates like every five seconds!

Other People's Lives

I really need to be working on this chapter about the integration of the NBA, and I did post something on FD today, right? But I am about to explode over accumulated energy and angst over some race/sexuality/basketball stuff, and I'm sick of carrying on 15,000 chats at once about it, while trying to provoke some reaction over Twitter.

Exhibit A: Brendan Haywood: If you don't know this story, I have no idea how you found your way to this site. Newsflash: Pro athlete is not entirely comfortable with the idea of homosexuality, uses language that might offend some. I might even include the fact that Haywood is black, since it's relevant later. My reaction yawned at these comments, instead choosing to focus on what might make Haywood retreat into such a defensive, reflexive position. He brought it up, remember. No one said "what do you think of that effeminite Marbury."

Exhibit B: Tim Povtak, FanHouse columnist, clowns O.J. Mayo for wanting to return a diamond bangle. Now granted, Povtak admits he just might be old school, and does mention Bill Russell and Joe Dumars as dudes who wouldn't wear flamboyant jewelry. And I by no means wish to imply that a desire for excessive ice is a genetic trait inherent in all young African-American men. But I read this as basically questioning the manhood of any present-day athlete who dresses flashy, which by and large applies to black players.

It has as far back as the 1970's, when Earl Monroe rocked high heels and Clyde wore mink on the subway. To regurgitate somethng I remember hearing in grad school, it's a form of racism that also manages to be sexist, since it puts down an ethnic group by feminizing it. EDIT: Yes, that does also make it implicitly homophobic, too.

I know Tim Povtak is no Brendan Haywood, in terms of visibility or just plain mattering to most people. But why is it that Haywood—whose attitudes are par for the course everywhere in sports, including on the web—is being criticized for saying what most athletes think anyway. It's also no secret that, culturally, the question of homosexuality in African-American communities is even more thorny than in your average predominantly white enclave. That's worth considering when Kevin Arnovitz mentions that he's overheard one of the NBA's most "enlightened" players spout homophobic cliches. That doesn't excuse it, just makes it unexceptional. At the same time, Povtak writes something that, at least to me, was not only uglier and more layered but also less expected. And yet no one's freaking out about his column, as far as I can tell. It's just some grouchy white guy complaining about the younger generation.

I have nothing but the utmost respect for peers like Kelly, Kevin and Ziller who have written about Haywood as part of a bigger problem. I don't for a second disagree with that assessment. I do wonder, though, why the blogosophere—which I'd argue is usually on the surface more homophobic than racist—is so quick to condemn Haywood (and itself?), while Povtak's column, which turns over a new leaf as far as yuckiness is concerned, drew little criticism. Is homophobia an easier target? Are we that scared to talk about race? And should it matter that much more when an athlete says it, than when a writer—supposedly the "smarter" side of the equation—puts his foot in his mouth?

I assume all things are wrong at all times. If we've moved on to prioritizing, picking our spots, or working with the demon we know best (as in, would like to admit we know best), please tell me.

Get a New Mazda

Belated Blogs with Balls thoughts in a second. But first:



This reminds of a Painted Area post that boldly and matter-of-factly declared Jennings the third-best prospect in the draft. This was based on actual observation, whereas everyone else was going on murky deductions about what Euro stats did or didn't mean, or a handful or anecdotal reports that trickled in from interested parties.

After watching this Rome-only Jennings mix, I see why he came to this conclusion. So maybe his stats had holes; aren't they supposed to? And I know the whole growth narrative matters, but it's too hazy to hang a multi-million dollar investment on. These clips make it pretty darn clear that Jennings wasn't stumbling through a foreign system. He's making plays here that evince exactly the same flamboyant, near-absurd, virtuosity—that I'm convinced is totally self-aware—but not in any way wrecking the integrity of his role. This is what Jennings more than Young Marbury 2. He's both more and less that cosmic force, Iverson's Zoroasterian battle within reconciled as a multi-national.

And about BwB . . . I can't really add much to the zillion recaps that have already been written. It was great to meet a bunch of people I've emailed with, and—gasp—in some cases, make the acquaintance of some folks with whom I'd had zero blog interaction. The HHR crew deserve oodles of credit to pulling together and pulling off an event that kept changing and evolving. GQ's party was fun, and I hate parties. I'm not even mad at y'all for spreading petty rumors about my love for Ricky Rubio!



I know my panel was crazy and all, and did produce this lasting tribute to how loathsome and noisy I am, but I think one key thing got lost in there, and in the conference as a whole. Yes, in part I wanted to question the whole blog/MSM blood-feud, and wonder why exactly newspaper men and bloggers had convinced themselves it was 1917 Russia all over again. Bloggers are not inherently noble, or part of some movement that will carry us all to heaven; established writers should not think the sky is falling, or that all's relative and everyone has voice, because people just aren't that stupid; the Ibanez saga says to me that treading lightly when it comes to steroids is impossible, so if you want to be taken seriously and not just be seen as a cranky fan, you should be ready to dig in your heels and pound the pavement!!! And yes, I probably cursed out all bloggers and journalists who can't write well, or report well when they have to. Merit is not dead, it just got less exclusive.

But what I really want to get out there was how little print media other than newspapers were discussed. Newspapers are in trouble, and have been for some time, which kind of makes them an easy target, like the steroids of media upheaval. However, yours truly has always been most interested in magazines and books. Jeff Pearlman at one point said that books were now his medium of choice. Other than that, nothing. I know that all publishing is a mess right now, but I felt a little out of place when the main issues were 1) learning how to ball out like Jason McIntyre 2) getting hired to kill off beat writers.

I don't see why at least magazines can't figure prominently into this discussion. After all, if you want to make a living writing, they're still a decent source of (intermittent, supplementary) income. And it's kind of insulting to bloggers to assume that, while they can move in on one quadrant of print media, they're somehow barred from making the same kind of transition that so many "real journalistz" have made. That's the blog ghetto all over again.

And anyone who doesn't think it should be a global priority for Spencer Hall to get a book out there soon is not a part of the same "movement" as me.

White Worm, White Whale, White Elephants

Over the past week, there was some non-link-worthy speculation as the presence of PEDs in the NBA. The logic: Players got bigger and faster in baseball and football, and look what was just beneath the surface . . . so why not us? To their credit, the authors aren't pointing fingers—nor do they have the slightest bit of credible evidence to back it up—but believe that, as an analogy, the similarities are simply too juicy to ignore.

These arguments have already been refuted using the most obvious ammo. The league tests like crazy for them, reporting any semblance of a positive result with glee, since all are diet pill-related; unlike baseball or football, there hasn't been a wholesale shift in the numbers or physique of the league as a whole. Is it really plausible that only Dwight Howard and LeBron James have discovered HGH, and the rest of the NBA is in the dark? Plus, while stronger and faster is of immediate benefit in baseball and football, in basketball, skill is at more of a premium. There's a reason why terms like "skills" and "game" are so important to fans and players alike, and while the NBA combine is at best misleading, at worst, a version of that year's scouting drunk and tied to a burning sailboat.

But for yours truly, what makes these insinuations so absurd is the very nature of the pro baller. Not to get all quasi-essentialist on you, but what propels most players to to the top is some version of indvidiual arrogance or confidence, stemming from the fact that when they take the court, no one can fuck with them. From that age where everything becomes to jump off for them, who they are—a seamless combination of mind, body, learned tricks, and attitude—allows them to absolutely steamroll everyone they come into contact with. Except for sometimes in AAU, or if they play at Oak Hill, or are fortunate enough to train with Tim Grover. Compare that with football, where most players are trained as good soldiers meant to excel at a particular task, to fit into a role, or baseball, in which skills are so atomized as to become impersonal. Of course those two sports would welcome a third-party that could up the numbers, heighten the measurements, bring one closer to the unspoken—yet certainly formal—ideal that informs their training. These players are learning function, and to that end, to dispense with some of themselves. That's a lethal combination just begging for a chemical substance to play a key consulting role.



Now consider basketball and the ego. Admittedly, if one were to construct the perfect player in a vat, in the most mechanistic way possible, there might be a way to bio-chemically optimize the process. I guess that would make sense psychologically, if not technologically—as of yet, no one's suggested that PEDs improve court vision or shooting form. In this country, though, that's not how players are made. They start to play, they are, and they pick up stuff along the way (or not). In short, if there's a way forward, it's clearly defined by both their strengths and limitations. Otherwise, why wouldn't everyone take drugs to turn into Durant or LeBron?

LeBron is one of names most frequently whispered. At which point, really, would PEDs have intervented in LeBron's development? When he was 16? When, as a rookie, he was merely one of the best players in the league? Forget the whole "they want to be fast" line of argument—why exactly would a player as at home on the court, as joyous in his identity as an athlete, suddenly decide he needed to conform to a non-existent standard? Who the fuck thinks "I'm the most unholy combination of speed and size the league has ever seen, but everyone knows I could be a little more that?" Becoming LeBron James is a tremendous accomplishment; deciding to become more LeBron would run counter to the entire project of perfecting self and style.

Addendum: Point raised in the comments section that stuff like HGH aids in recovery, and has nothing to do with what I've outlined above. Given how long it takes guys to come back from ankle and muscle and side problems, how back spasms have ruined careers, and that guys only ever rush back from wrist and finger problems (that's the scene of the crime?), I find this highly unlikely.