Hole or Pile

First off, Ziller has suggested that Thunder/Grizz is the new Bobcats/Hawks, and I'm inclined to agree. I feel like a turncoat for saying this, but as Dr. LIC noted a few weeks back, the Thunder are rad and lose a ton of games. Perfect! And they're about the most god-foresaken outpost of NBA basketball available. The game with Cleveland yesterday was bound to end as it did, but certainly felt like a battle. Westbrook's the wild card, Durant the edgy craftsman, Jeff Green has become Jeff Green. Combine those with a high pick, and Presti might not built another Spurs, but a team with serious mind control powers. Now let's see what he does with a coach, or when Ibaka comes over.

And now, to address something fairly stupid from the comments section, or to wit, something I should've brought up a while ago. In case you hadn't heard, Gerald Wallace lost his faher and grandfather in the last two weeks, and has been caught up in a whirlwind of grieving, driving around the Deep South to attend funerals, missing a few games, and surfacing periodically to absolutely destroy whoever happens to be playing the Bobcats that night. This was contrasted with Josh Howard's collapse, which some have attributed in part to a death in the family. The implication being, in fairly typical sports terms, that Wallace was a man and Howard a fragile piece of cunt. You could also argue that McGrady's personal history, while more dire than Howard's, also fails to display this same stoicism, or ability to use tragedy as motivation. In fact, working against the likes of McGrady and Howard is the cliche, discussed in the book, of sport-as-salvation or escape.



I still believe what I put down in print about how hard it is to separate T-Mac's on-court woes from what's he dealt with away from it, to the point that he seems haunted everywhere. But this isn't some third option, after Wallace's play (either clinging to normalcy, comfort, or taking out the pain on someone) or Howard's inability to deal. I think it's pretty obvious that, just as each death brings with it a completely unique range of emotions—based on the timing, the relationship with the deceased, and the personality of the survivor—the way athletes view sports in times of crisis is just as varied. I know that, the more times "sports" figure in a sentence, the more we expected pre-programmed, cliched, or robotic. Sports is there, and the closer one gets to it, the more he's forced to get in line and choose from a handful of time-honored storylines. Really though, given the range of emotions that go into playing a game, and how much those vary from person to person, why would that element of the equation be any more stable than the loss of a loved one?

If you think basketball is just another job, then fine. Players can either take time away, return immediately and feel better for it, or be noticeably off for months. Or we can see each of these very human instances as a chance to learn something not only about how these people deal with death, but also how they view the game. To be sure, it's a complex, sometimes contradictory, interaction. But it's far more honest than pretending that everyone feels the same way about basketball, a job that inspires great high and lows, deals in huge swaths of stress and release, and couldn't possibly inspire a set number of reactions—especially when intertwined with something as personal as death.

That Florid, Floating Dungeon Called Home

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.

BONUS: Steinz does a Q&A with yours truly, commenters revolt.

-Part one of "Draft Daze," a Dallas Penn-approve short about one man and his hoops dream.



-If you haven't already, check the new shirts. They will upend you.