String Those Nerves Together Now

In olden days, I would have said "read what I wrote over there but this is the real", and then poured out my innards. But the problem with FanHouse is that they want me doing whatever. Have you read the previews Ziller and I did? I really couldn't make any less sense if I wanted to. So read them. Thus, as the playoff monster begins to stir, I find myself on my own doormat, faced with the possibility that what's on FD might be more straightforward than my "real" gig. Strange times we inhabit. However, I wanted to tend to these lands, dry and shriveled as they have become. So here's my very sober, useful rundown of Things That Persuade Me in This Postseason.

1. The Thunder--Really, can there be any doubt? Forget for a second that Durant is, if not LeBron's narrative, mystical equal, maybe even greater for not being equipped with a superpower's physique. He looks like I figure Young Ezekiel did, and also deserves some sort of otherworldly, possibly Martian, nickname. LeBron is, pardson the pun, all embronzed. Durant is exotic metals; there's a reason why, at one point, there was an Avatar comparison for him in a part of the new book. I think we finally decided it was at once too true and too silly to comprehend.

But the Thunder as a whole represent so much we've been in favor of while—and here's the kicker—without seeming like a leap of faith. Serge Ibaka is not a test. Russell Westbrook is not a test. The Hawks when they dared face Boston were exhilarating, but living on the edge can sometimes leave you feeling tawdry. No one thinks OKC beat LA, but good luck finding a single serious basketball fan who expects a sweep with zero intrigue.

2. Brandon Jennings--Tyreke Evans is a major stylist, and I still don't think people are letting that all-around game of his sink in. I've made my peace with Curry. But Jennings is the only one left standing, and while the Bucks are taking two games---no more, no less--tell me you aren't excited to see Jennings try his hand at the playoffs. No Bogut hurts the team's case, and Jennings' absolute value, and yet if the Bucks are going down anyway, why not do so with something resembling a Brandon Jennings showcase? I'm not talking about no 55; that's probably what led to his abrupt drop off the ROY map (and Curry's rise).

Let's just see Jennings carry himself like he belongs there, run his team, and demonstrate the game that makes him a clear-cut building block at the one. At the beginning of the season, the AI comparisons were pure bunk to me. I loved Jennings best when he slithered around the half-court looking to make a play. He can either jack up shots here in desperation or dig in and try to animate the bunch. One good thing about Skiles: He will be, umm, gently pushing for number two.

3. Dwyane Wade-- No one told me, I didn't notice, and frankly (stats aside), it didn't show all the time. But Wade was still pretty out-of-this-world in the 2009-10. Thus, I am looking forward for Wade to really blow it all out. That Round One is against Boston, the perfect team to fly headlong into and hope for collapse (or a revved-up guitar soundtrack) (is it so wrong that I once found a LeBron mix soundtracked with Iron Maiden?).

Despite what I've been writing at FanHouse, I don't quite get how players are thinking of these playoffs in terms of this summer. No one needs to be convinced that Wade can prevail, at least game-to-game. Still, 2010 is more than a rat race, it's a pecking order, with LeBron's 2010-ness having become some measure of his absolute power over the league. Not that Wade can nibble away at that, but riding high as the Free Agency babble begins is very much the new pecking order around the league. Like standings or balloting ever matter; there all we ever hear about is the winner. Not so with 2010. The whole world is watching and Wade is certainly looking to gain a little on LeBron. The question, though: What happens to this hierarchy once 2010 is over?



4. Bobcats WTF--I really, really need some help on this one. It's almost like when you go to a mental hospital in the fifties (okay, I'm imagining Shutter Island), and everyone's sweeping floors and playing Risk!, and then all of a sudden there's a disturbance and things really jump off. Is Larry Brown the warden? Wait, how is he not—I'm sorry to repeat myself so often on this count—the Bad News Bears coach? (Billy Bob version, motherfuckers . . . if I go down that path, I go down it all alone.)

Stephen Jackson, Gerald Wallace, Tyrus Thomas, Boris Diaw, Tyson Chandler, even Raymond Felton . . . it's like karmic revenge for the Believe! Warriors. If you let me coach this team I would discover Atlantis and burn down a subway. But no one's even suggesting that this team is scrappy, or violent, or even miscreants floating out on a boat somewhere (love that movie Strange Cargo!). For God's sake, didn't Stephen Jackson decree himself a pirate at some point?

5. Please let the Derrick Rose backlash begin now. Please bring back that psychedelic karaoke Luol Deng.

6. In the immortal words of J.E. Skeets, WHAT DO YOU THINK!??!!?!??!?

Get Word Gargle!

Behold, the latest Disciples of Clyde Podcast:



Further explanation here. There is military equipment involved, at least the imaginary type.

Now, allow me to briefly steal my own show. This place is my rock, my shelter, so I'll say it here: I don't care if no one else noticed about Jennings's bipolar twit, or subsequent denial. Here I am before and after. I'm not mad at Jennings, nor do I feel I'm some kind of world-class dupe. It was a reasonable statement to make and I reacted thus; it turned out to be an ill-advised, if only slightly tasteless, "joke." We move on.

But what's sickening me is the folks I'm seeing who think that this didn't even warrant consideration. Sorry, but 1) it happened and 2) it touched on something real, and real to the NBA, no less. Someone made a point that schizophrenia's become a joke of sorts, which means it's all good and I'm overreacting. That makes some sense to me, though I'd argue that schizophrenia humor is, like cancer puns, one of those things that presumes shock value or considers its object only in the abstract.

As I've said, I really don't care that much. Yes, Jennings's "joke" (not much of one when he's such a weirdo, and many found the charges plausible, leading to whispers of a cover-up by his agent) struck a nerve and made a fool of me. But it also made him look bad. I don't get why that's conveniently brushed aside. I mean, really, explain to me how there's nothing to this and I'm attacking a poor kid over nothing? There is a world outside the internet.

Let's at least have that conversation. Then we can forget all about it, like I did when I wrote that second piece. Just acknowledge that telling me to "lighten up" is bullshit. Oh, and someone please ask Delonte West how he feels about this.

THAT'S WRITE MESSAGE BOARDS AND TROLLS, I'M TALKING 2 U!!!!!!

Stop, Listen, and Ears

Dan is joined by Ken, who was first on an old computer and then on an old phone. Ken says he used to have good equipment, but that his dog ate it.



Anyway, they still managed to get in a good discussion of the Bucks playing defense, Brandon Jennings playing point guard, the Thunder playing defense, the Knicks playing decently, Nate Robinson playing, John Wall playing incredibly, the poor play in the Kentucky-Louisville game, and Gilbert playing with guns.

No playing!

Songs from the episode:

"Brand New Day" - Dizzee Rascal
"Great Expectations" - The New Year
"Tron Man Speaks" - Antipop Consortium
"It Ain't Nuthin' (The Chapter Remix)" - MF Doom
"Freaks in Charge" - Superchunk

Hey! You! Subscribe via iTunes!

That Old Weird Horizon

Before I get serious, take a look at this list of records I'm too lazy to put on eBay just yet. And listen to the newest Disciples of Clyde-cast, featuring Kelly Dwyer. Will be posted here later in the week, but it's there for you, now. Thanks!

I have never felt a post as profoundly as the one I've labored over since Monday night. Various abortive attempts have included "I want to be free. The more we know, the more we want to tear it all down"; a discussion of whether the relationship between knowledge and ardor in sports was like or unlike that in sports; digging around for a Heidegger quote that worked out of context; a tangent on Cotto where I wrote just like Shoefly; and the question of elitism in non-snobby watching, i.e. "I get this shit so much better than everyone else around me."

But what I really should've done is listen to my heart, to pay attention to the largely sports-driven moods that have so thoroughly burnt, cleansed, and smushed me since Saturday. The long and short of it is this: I watch sports like an expert, even if I don't know what I'm talking about. I feel, but I also look for details and seek out analytic angles. We are all guilty (if that's the word) of this to some degree; no one is born into sports. Even those who don't know much are still, as highly-evolved cognitive beings observing an activity bound by rules and order, looking to make sense of it all. Greatness is always contextual, and if pushed to its logical extreme, at the distant horizon of Dr. Jack Ramsey we find either the grandest palaces of Jordan and Pippen, or the strike-team ambushes that strike heads from off of idols' shoulders.

Originally, I thought I'd come out of Manny/Jennings/John Wall/remembering Iverson blitz having hit on a new kind of fan experience. Call it innocence, call is blissful ignorance, throw out your favorite lines about the eyes of children or being on acid. As I watched Pacquiao/Cotto surrounded by a large extended family whose knowledge of boxing ranged from encyclopedic to nil, all of whom responded to Manny's space-and-time defying combos with the same oohs and aaahs (admittedly, unorthodox technique and cultural affinity played some role here), it dawned on me: There exists a type of athlete so crackling, inventive, and forceful, and elemental, that they become the great equalizer. It doesn't matter how intently you've followed their career, or a sport. When Pacquiao goes on the attack, Jennings launches into one of those trances where swagger, will, and basketball IQ find themselves in perfect harmony, John Wall hits a game-winner as if to say "enough, it's time to start this season", or Iverson's latest ugh-fest sends us all scurrying back to video of the young AI (funny how different those initials sound now as a nickname, almost like Roman numerals) . . . we find ourselves in a state of wonder that strips away all of our hours and hours of learning.



That was the thesis. These players are ultra-accessible because they tap into a different part of our psyche, infectious and impossibly popular because of the wonderment they inspire. And for those of us who have seen it (and them) all before, each time it happens, it's like we're seeing it for the first time, like we may never even have seen the sport before. I don't want to reduce it to pure aesthetics, or the quote I read somewhere (anyone?) about basketball appealing most to casual fans because of the highlights and sheer poetry of movement. I still maintain that the narrative of a football game is easier to follow, but whatever. I think that one of the reasons it feels natural to include a boxer in here is that, if on some level basketball attracts us with its spectacle of dashing, cutting, and leaping, then boxing is a fist-fight—pretty basic human experience—potentially raised to the level of magic and mystery.

I don't want to say they transform the mundane, because that completely undermines the competitive and technical aspects. However, these athletes affect hit us right in the reptile brain, and send us reeling from there. I don't really think this describes the typical viewing experience of the fan who knows not to ask. My sense is that, for the most part, sports become easier to invest one's self in the more you know about them, and vice-versa. The trick is that this class of athlete short-circuits this relationship. They don't transcend the burden of understanding, they tear down the very parameters by which understanding is so strictly tied into spectatorship. Call it ecstatic viewing, performance without description, or the belief that some moments in sports can cause sports to fall away and just sit there in front of you, beaming, as if their power were inherent, their expressiveness final, and their ends, inevitable, if not irrelevant.

This isn't Kobe ruthlessly working his way through the end of a game, but a wisp of a 20 year-old doing it all in one fluid motion, as if to come up for air would be to let in a host of distractions and contradictions for which neither he—nor we—need confront. Not during this window into a kind of sport beyond sport that never risks cheapening itself or its devotees. One that can't last forever and yet this past week, seems to have.

In This Hour of Totality

Manny still lingers, John Wall's debut is vague, if crackling, until the final exclamation point, Jennings with a positively fearsome second half and OT in a loss to the Mavs. They threw everything at him, including the war with Beaubois that was like watching photon particles at play, and the plays still happened. And looming over, under, or behind it all, this Iverson news that raises more questions than it settles.

Here's my magnum opus on Allen Iverson, right and now and forever, at least until his career's a decade in the ground. It sounds like this:

Allen Iverson was, and still is, heaven or the great below. He shakes basketball to its very foundations or, according to some, is foolish enough to think he can. He changed the game, though not necessarily for the better. We have been forced to take him at face value, and in the process awaken all sorts of even more inspirational, or degrading, feelings about race, culture, and the structure of American society. "Ambivalence" doesn't even fit. That was Kobe; Iverson is a player who exists in two different worlds.

Now go read the rest, so you won't be sore if this Manny/Jennings post waits another day. Oh, and speaking of Manny. . .



That's the trailer for his new film, and I like to think the crab represents Floyd. Via Sporting Blog, via Last Angry Fan and Film Drunk.

Final announcement, until I try and post late in the day: I've thrown caution, and looks, to the wind and just started throwing up out-of-print NBA classics in the Amazon widget. Profit motive aside, you people really need to read all of these.

Remorse Isn't Picky

Okay, so I didn't get around to getting anything longer about Jennings near finished. Partly because it was drawing parallels between that and Manny's performance, which is stupid unless you attach a bunch of qualifiers to it. Or are drunk. Luckily, my argument is primarily about spectatorship and aesthetics, as you'll see tomorrow. But still, I felt I needed a little more distance, as I don't want anyone to kill me. I don't know, what do you think?

Instead, some Jennings odds and ends, to go with the "what do you think":

-My Baseline piece on what 55 really means for Jennings as a player.

-Ty Keenan proposes another read participation acitivity: Who can come up with the best Jennings/Minutemen joke?

-Toward the "what exactly happened in Italy?" question, Sixers4guidos translates and sends along part of a column published today in the Italian daily Il Messaggero. Title: "Jennings, From Bust to Scoring Star."

"We talk again about Jennings, considered a spoiled and insecure kid here in Rome... now a star in the NBA....he shocked the League with a stunning show... he did well also in preseason now he got attention from mainstream media and gained trust from many... but in Rome he was little considered... they never had faith in him, (giving him) few minutes on the court (and he produced) obviously few points... to be honest, he never excited (people) in the few occasions he played, even shoving an attitude that could have been considered ornery/morose... sure, US bball is different from european, few defense and many chances to show (someone's) shooting ability... he was the first to jump from high school to Europe..."

He's saving some other choice excerpts for his own spot, so check back there later. Update: Here's the post.

-Why do I think that by watching Jennings again tonight, it'll sort of be like getting to see John Wall's debut?

WHAT DO YOU THINK?!?!?!!?!??!?

Celebrate the New Dark Age

The New York Times recently ran an interesting article checking in on Jeremy Tyler, the 6-11 eighteen year old who one upped Brandon Jennings by not only bypassing college, but also his senior year of high school, to play professionally overseas. Tyler landed in Israel, where his experience has made Jennings's time in Italy look like a vacation by comparison. Indeed, the most striking thing about the article is how Jennings, now five games into his NBA career, is already perceived as a success story. Much was made last year about Jennings struggling with the transition and playing sparingly for Lottomatica Roma, but everything’s changed now that he's locked down the starting point guard job for the Bucks, while averaging 18.4 ppg, 4.4 apg, and 4.4 rpg and looking like the early favorite for Rookie of the Year.

The moral of the story seems to be that, if you're willing to suck it up and adhere to European basketball's bizarre notions of team play for a year (or in Tyler's case, two years), then NBA stardom awaits. Sonny Vaccaro, the evil genius behind both players' decisions, stated the matter more bluntly by praising Jennings's willingness to "shut up and learn." Tyler, by contrast, has reportedly demonstrated the kind of immaturity and whiny entitlement that most people seem to expect from today's teenager. If Tyler fails, it may jeopardize Vaccaro's plans and those of his partner in crime Jeffrey H. Rosen. Rosen has great plans for turning his Israeli pro team Maccabi Haifa into "the preferred destination for American prodigies who want to skip college" and ultimately "a global media presence." Shades of Saperstein.



Last week, Latavious Williams added a new wrinkle to the discussion by becoming the first high schooler to be drafted by the NBDL. Williams had already done several other things you do when you're a high school basketball star with bad grades and low test scores: go to prep school for a year, commit to Memphis, and explore the option of playing overseas. It turns out no foreign team was interested in the raw combo forward whom Scout.com rated the 52nd best player in the class of 2008, so the DL and its $19,000/year contract was the only option left. Since it's unlikely Williams will ever play in the NBA, he is more of a sad anomaly than a legit test case.

Current college freshmen John Wall and Renardo Sidney are better examples, since both have the skill, size, and athleticism that the NBA actually wants. Wall was rumored to be exploring the option of going overseas, but ultimately decided to play for Kentucky, which under Calipari is kind of like playing professionally while getting to stay in the country. (Lexington is also the likely destination of Michael Gilchrist, currently a high school junior and widely considered to be the best player in the nation. Oh, and he happens to be a close family friend of Worldwide Wes.) Sidney also selected an SEC school, Mississippi State, after most every other school backed away, out of concern about Sidney's amateur status possibly being compromised. Unsurprisingly, Sidney has still not been cleared to play this season by the NCAA, and Wall's status is similarly muddy.



Wall and Sidney's situation is a reminder that Jennings was also scheduled to play collegiately (at Arizona) before the NCAA flagged his test scores, thus setting into motion Vaccaro’s machinations. It’s worth mentioning here that KG was also planning to attend college (at Michigan or maybe UNC, depending on whom you talk to) before test scores derailed his plans and made him the next gen Moses (Malone), leading a generation of high schoolers into the promised land. Remember, also, that according to the NCAA record books, Derrick Rose never played in the national championship game, because someone else took his SATs for him. To a man, these players were willing (and even wanted) to go to college, but were prevented from doing so by either low test scores or, in the case of Wall and Sidney, unsavory associations. If Garnett or Jennings had been allowed to go to college, it’s not difficult to imagine them extolling the experience and continuing to take classes the way Durant and Oden have. So, when we talk about these issues, we need to reconsider whether players are going overseas to chase the money or because the NCAA forced them out. The answer, in most cases, is probably both.

So whither Wall and Sidney? If they are ultimately cleared by the NCAA, they play a year of college basketball, increase their brand awareness, and enter next year’s NBA Draft as known commodities. But, if they aren’t, then what? Since I assume they’ve been accepted as students by their universities, they could continue to take classes and work out individually, but that seems unlikely. A last minute pro contract overseas, a stint in the NBDL buoyed by sneaker money, or maybe an agent-sponsored residency at somewhere like the IMG Academy is more like it. Maybe the humiliation of being effectively kicked out of school would give them the motivation to succeed where Tyler has thus far failed. And if it works out for them, who could blame the next hoops prodigy for wanting to follow in their footsteps and stay clear of all the NCAA drama?

Treading Lightly

Summer leagues can create optical illusions, cause alternate realities to spring up, or defame the entire good name of professional basketball with their outcomes. Qyntel Woods was always a monster in these. However, sometimes, you get a look at the early stages of something great, i.e. Anthony Randolph last summer, or Julian Wright in 2007 (I think). Yes, if Wright got consistent minutes, he'd be on everyone's radar.

I've had a rough last few days, so let's at least entertain the possibility that the above video is exactly that window into the future, not a house of cards with mirrors on them.

Listen to our free agency podcast and check The Baseline. I'll try and get things going again on here mid-week.

UPDATE: Shoals has a new post at the Baseline, wherein he ponders what AI signing with the Clippers might do to his iconic status. It's a good read.

Toss Off Those Glittery Outlaws

So that's how I found myself in the position of reputationally damaging one of my favorite players.

On Saturday, when the sun should've been setting and I should've been buying chicken broth, I ended up having an impassioned phone conversation with Chris Littmann over those Jennings/Budden tapes. I hadn't taped them off the original camera feed, or put them on message boards, hip-hip with a trace of Knicks, in the first place. But we were in a position to, as the kids say, blow up his spot in a major way. The question was, how to do so without coming over as prudish, judgmental asses who don't actually like getting to hear players really, truly be themselves.

I think we—well, actually, Chris—did a good job softening, or ambiguifying, the blow. But the fact remains: The Baseline, formerly known as the mainstream media outlet most devoted to Jennings cheerleading (and Rubio-hating), was now spearheading the movement to get out some quotes that, in the hands of the stupid, would further tarnish Jennings's already tricky image. In the past, I'd resisted putting up incriminating Twits, Here, though, I thought of throwing these videos up on FD before the whole prospect of going platinum with them came up. For anyone with half a brain, or half a clue as to how NBA players—especially an outspoken nut like Jennings—would talk in a "safe" situation, these are gold.

Are there people too foolish, or walled-in, to not catch the obviously whiff of absurdity and playfulness in everything Jennings says here? Of course. Should I spend my whole journalistic life dancing around these assholes with kid feet? I don't want to. To me, Jennings follows naturally from Beasley or Arenas, both of whom are distant descendents of Muhammad Ali. They talk. We listen. They do or don't back it up. But we listen because we know they might.

The reason we ultimately went big-time with the story was the abrupt cover-up/misunderstanding/Twitter shutdown surrounding it. As Chris said in his post, we like seeing this side of players. But it's not clear the players themselves have really thought this "people want to see the real me" thing through all that well. Most importantly, are they supposed to be showing us the edgy outskirts of their public persona, or the first shores of who they really are? That is, are Twitter, or presumably ephemeral, semi-private (if you don't know. . . ) camera feeds, meant for the hardcore fans who just want more, more, more content, and will tolerate some rough edges—or those so in tune with the player that they actually "get" them?



It's clear that ballers understand the marketing potential of Twitter, and recognize the authenticity factor contained therein. But again, are they supposed to just do them, and let the interested public see a little, or learn a whole new set of rules for how to reveal layers of their persona that are off-limits in press conferences without having to stage a Cultural Translation 101 seminar on the internet? Check out the Wade Twits in the Baseline post. Hard to see these utterances as anything other than Wade ignoring the public, or figuring anyone watching his Twitter exists in some sort of idealized fan vacuum. Either way, the question of audience, and public presentation, has gone out the window. That must be liberating—not just to get to say whatever, but to know there's an audience for it. But exactly waht "say anything" means remains to be seen.

As we can see from the deletion of Jennings's Twitter, it's not like agents know exactly how to deal with this newfound questions of real/too real. By its very nature, athlete social media should push the envelope a little. Remember Arenas's blog, anyone? However, that was far more mediated, vetted, and no matter how renegage it seemed at the time, a so-called "underground" version of the Arenas emerging in the press. What Jennings or Wade is saying here is irreconcilable with their mainstream personas. It forces us to acknowledge who these players might really be—a "real" that's only terrifying if you're incapable of reading "fuck the Knicks" as anything other than an off-hand joke.

So consider this a challenge not to players, but to fans, the media, and agencies. These guys want to put themselves out there. Clearly, it's seen as an opportunity for them to be themselves, in a way that the strictures of modern marketing doesn't allow for. How to reconcile this behavior with the vanilla image that moves real money? Where's the ledge? Amidst all the juvenile finger-wagging that will spring up around these Jennings comments, I want to know what's next: What happens to those of us who want to hear raw and uncut Brandon?



LIke I said after these broke, if only Jennings had cleaned up his language a little bit, this could've been viral gold and an absolute marketing coup if the plan is to sell his Hollywood persona as something for the next generation. As it is, we're plunged right back into some of the most tired culture wars, or even clash of basketball civilizations. When that clucking clears away, though, it's up to young players and their management to figure out the new rules for unfiltered interaction with their public. At least that way, maybe the rest of the world can learn the difference between Jennings acting out and the rookie PG really sowing the seeds of discontent.

Post-script worth noting: It appears (from what we're hearing) that Brandon himself pulled the Twitter page. Maybe it was reactionary, preparing for the worst from all other parties involved. But certainly, this indicates that even this most "naive" of social media doyens realizes he needs to regroup and figure out what balance to strike.

(Working slowly toward a Suns post. Maybe we'll wait to see if it actually goes down.)

You Take All You Can

Last night was totally discombobulating and snuck up on me, weird-wise, like various things that kill you. After it was all over, I tore out my teeth trying to decide if I liked the possible Amare-to-GSW trade, and realized in the process that my very being was at stake. So that's a longer post that will get written over the weekend.

In the meantime, here's 1,000 words on the Jennings/Rubio screenplay as of right now.

Collapse in Reverse

Read the official FD Mock!

You don't need to warn me about the perils of drafting based on potential—what it seems like a player might be able to do one day. I have both been seduced by, and gotten endless mileage out of, this rotting cliche of NBA scouting. There's a distinction to be made, which I've done several times and don't feel like doing again, between "might be able to do" and "could be the kind of player who might be able to do." But while the latter is more immediately compelling, it's not like the former is more empirically sound, just not so utterly Romantic or suspended in a dream-like state not unlike religious conversion.

So it is with great trepidation that I seek to advance a serious scouting theory based on a hypothetical. However, since seeing that Brandon Jennings Euromix, I've been thinking about a line I've heard, and read, in several places: roughly, "there's just no one else in the draft who can do the things he can." The legend of Ricky Rubio aside, Jennings's slippery, high-speed trickery with the ball is an asset that just can't be ignored. Jennings is accused of showboating, streetball, next Marbury, and all the usual. But as a passer and facilitator, Jenning's game isn't bullshit, it's the kind of Nash/Paul skill that could pull together an entire offense in this PG-friendly (or -centric, you choose) era. And Jennings doesn't merely have great vision. When it comes to this one, rarefied aspect of the game, he can hang with anyone in the league.



If you don't believe me, ask Stephen Curry, speaking to Chris over at The Baseline:

CL: Tell me what you thought of Jennings. Everywhere he's going, he seems to be leaving a trail of fire, one way or another, like what he said about Rubio for example. Tell me what he was like as a player and what he was like as a person.

SC: As a player, he's very quick. You don't know exactly what he's going to do. He's got an unconventional style about him where you think he's going one way and he'll throw back between the legs and go another way. He's tough to guard because he keeps his dribble active and looks for open spots on the floor. He definitely is a solid point guard. I think his season in Italy really helped him develop going against physical guys.

CL: Did Jennings remind you of that you've seen?

SC: No, he plays different than anyone I've seen before.

CL: What makes him unique?

SC: His creativity with the ball. He's always moving. Even without the ball, he's just always active on the floor. When we were doing 3-on-3 drills he'd do the Steve Nash dribble from one side of the court, underneath the basket, to the other and do a turn around. He's a great passer, so you've got to stay in front of him

I know I shouldn't take the word of a player I'm not so high on. And as Henry noted, Jennings still has major holes. However, this is exactly the point I'm after here. Jennings isn't a gaseous cloud of could-be, nor a good young player whose past offers a template for future success. He's both more and less than each of these. In some ways, he's the best PG in the draft; in others, one of the shakiest, a project needing not only technical tutelage, but some basic help getting in tune with the pro game. The level of competition in Europe may be higher in the NCAA, and it helped Jennings grow up; at the same time, is there any question this kid's recent history leaves him with a lot to work through on the court?

But again, that brilliance with the ball, the total unpredictability and idiosyncracy Curry refers to. Yes, it could lead him to self-destruct. As of now, though, it's an enormous asset, at least one facet of what it takes to be a first-tier PG. I want to compare it to drafting Thabeet on the basis of his shot-blocking, and yet this isn't about a specialist. It's about a player with a gift, one that, if a team's ready to look past or committ to sanding down the rough edges, could be the basis of not just an All-Star, but a dynamic team. This is exactly why point guards can be the new franchise these days.



I like Evans, and he's ready right now. But he's not precocious, ahead of and behind himself, like Jennings. Rubio, who knows. At this point, it's impossible to separate his actual ability from the rhetoric (no, not "hype"), a lot of which is glib and contradictory. I don't blame him for not working out, but that's keeping us from getting the same measure of how he stacks up against other prospects. Please, discuss the Olympics below. However, regardles of what Rubio is or isn't, people seem either sold or not sold on him. Everyone agrees on Jennings. The question is whether you take a player on the assumption that from one great thing, other good things will inevitably follow.

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.

The Pickle Tantrum

I have numb hands and fingers, and might need an IV, so really quick on these.

-Welcome the top of the FD draft board, Mr. Jennings. Question: When he says "3-guard," is that really Euro, really street, or the hybrid he was born to rep?

(Or can I not say "rep" now that I've been thrown out of hip-hop fantasy camp?)

-This week's episode of "FreeDarko Presents the Disciples of Clyde NBA Podcast." Just the Original Two on here:



(Playlist will be posted later, because no more music on this blog for a second).

-My appearance on Dan Levy's On the DL. Consider this a warm-up for Blogs With Balls tomorrow.