Weeks Four & Five: A Dream Deferred

It was to be the Greatest FU Post Never Written. But for the fourth (and fifth) installment of the FU's version of "Week In Review," I decided to compose the post that would have been had dreams come true. Peep after the random picture...

Rumors of my all-time favorite player coming to my favorite team stirred my Basketball Soul in a way a Carmelo move off his jab step could never do. And even with his skills visibly diminishing—except, it seems, to him—Iverson to the Knicks would have literally been the Best of My Worlds. Each time I tuned into an MSG broadcast, my fandom would have been in perfect harmony. I know he isn't at the height of his powers, but his ginsu-style crossover is still fatal. He probably would have donned his #3, and fans would immediately hope he purged any remaining evils that haunted Coney Island's Finest. He could have provided the go-to scoring a young Knicks team lacks; as well as a buzz among Knicks Nation.

But it's not about any of that. It's about me. Those two ideals have been halted from fusing together. But even with that, the realist in me can't ignore the other side to this story—the side I somewhat acknowledged in a previous Iverson post. As much as I would have enjoyed seeing Iverson in New York, it would have always been bittersweet due to the circumstances his signing would have been under. This is where Iverson's career has led him. Labeled as a malcontent, and an unusable gun. He's the anti-Bob McAdoo that can't find employment; even with franchises looking for hope like the Grizzlies and Knicks. It's always tough to see a once-great struggle with near-mediocrity. But when it's someone that molded your very philosophy of the sport, that sympathy is magnified infinitely. It's like watching my ideals embark on a never ending quest for someone to accept them as truth. Iverson is longing for that belief fans of his held onto when his diminutive frame felled giants with reckless abandon. It doesn't look like it exists anymore.

Perhaps, it is for the best that my favorite player did not join my favorite team. Even if the Answer had found his solution at Madison Square Garden, he would still look out of sorts in that white, blue, and orange. It would have jibed with my Basketball Soul like a dope Jazzanova record. There would have been a bunch of elements going on; but it would have worked somehow. However, seeing him attempt to rescue the Knicks from futility would have been both heroic and pathetic. Could he have done it? Maybe. But to me, it probably isn't worth risking slightly tarnishing his Hall Of Fame legacy for a franchise waiting on the future. Still, it was nice to dream; if only for a moment.



Peace.

FU Self Face/Off: The Iverson Saga

Since I'm in my yin/yang, both sides of the spectrum mode, I'm going to write yet another post on my favorite player: Allen Iverson. I know FU seems to be flooded with AI posts and mentions; but since I've become indulged in the Basketball Realm as its scribe, his career has had more dramatic change than ever. Gone are the days of carrying franchises on his diminutive shoulders, slicing mountains and monuments with the sharpness of his crossover dribble. He's a journeyman now; trying to disprove the perceived notion that he's fallen from the ranks of the Elite.

Whenever an idea for a post starts formulating, it usually sparks two different types of reactions and opinions in me. Now each opinion in unedited and honest, but one is a little more controversy-based than the other. It's like "T.I. vs. T.I.P.," minus the southern accent and military arsenal. With that said, I'm going to share both opinions that arose once I heard that AI signed with the Grizzlies. The semi-politically correct one is after the random picture...

Welp, it's happened. The Little Shooting Guard That Could, the undersized perimeter player with an unbreakable will, the Braided Bringer of Buckets—Allen Iverson—has finally lost that proverbial step. Since his release from the Motor City, he has had the Clippers semi-interested in his services and had to practically beg the Grizzlies for a chance—and even they took a couple months to think about it before signing him. Even Larry Brown, the one coach able to fully utilize AI powers, wouldn't bring Iverson aboard because he didn't want to disturb the chemistry of his Bobcats team; despite said team in desperate of big-time scoring. Something has to be wrong with Iverson if bottom-feeders like the Bucks, Knicks, and Kings wouldn't give him a look. And yes, the claims of him being a bad teammate are starting to become legit. At first, he was all gun-ho about coming off the bench in Detroit so Rodney Stuckey's development wouldn't be stunted. Twenty games into Joe Dumars' experiment, and it was obvious Iverson's isolation-based game doesn't mesh with all the screens Rip runs around. It became more clear once Iverson went out with the back injury the first time, and Rip flourished without him.

The Pistons went from six straight Eastern Conference Finals to getting swept out the first round by the CrabHammer of Lebron. Chauncey Billups, who AI was traded for, grasped the attention of the often knuckle-headed Nuggets and led them to the Western Conference Finals. Billups proved he was behind Detroit's success, and established himself as one of the game's best leaders. And well, no one's associated Iverson with leadership.

This is what it has come to for Iverson. His lowest points per game total ever (18.5); and players like Paul Millsap, Ramon Session, and Hedo Turkoglu being more coveted than him. This is the beginning of the end.



And now...the other way I felt...

So the only team that wanted AI is the Grizzlies? Really? Those 50-loss teams couldn't use a prime scorer who is two years removed from averaging 33 points a game. That's thirty-three...for an entire season. Yes, Iverson is incapable of averaging 30 a game. Yes, it seems the countless reckless treks to the rim are now taking their toll on his frail frame. But there still aren't fifteen guards better than Iverson in the Association right now. He didn't fit in Detroit, and he still averaged 18+ ppg and 5+ apg. Do you know how many point guards did that last season? Four (Billups, Paul, D. Williams, and Harris). So don't act like Iverson can't play at an extremely high level in this League.

You want to know why I really think AI wasn't signed for awhile? Collusion. Not just from the owners, but from an order by Commissioner Stern himself. How else would the active leader in points per game be a free agent until September? Did I mention he's two years from averaging 33 points a game for a season? And you mean to tell me the Kings feel Beno Urich is a better option? Even if he has to come off the bench, what team couldn't use an unstoppable scoring threat with their second unit? Last I checked, New Orleans, Oklahoma City, Charlotte, Phoenix, Milwaukee, Miami, and a few other teams don't have a hint of a scoring threat off the bench. Yet Iverson has to settle for Memphis, while Earl Watson is still employed.

No punches pulled, I think David Stern blames Iverson for the infusion of hip-hop into his precious League. Shorts became longer, fundamentals began to lack, and individualism became more outwardly expressed once The Answer was drafted. If you've been paying attention, Stern has slowly been trying to eliminate the individual style that today's pro hooper is displaying. I always point out that Basketball forces one to intertwine the game with his soul in order to prosper at it. It's why no matter how many times you watch "Better Basketball," you won't shoot the same way as J.J. Redick or dribble like Mike Bibby. One's "game" is as exclusive as his fingerprints. Yet it seems Commisioner stern doesn't want any of his players to express themselves. Eliminating the Band-Wade, the leg tights, and event he dress code to some extent are all ways to promote uniformity. This isn't football. Fans see the faces of the players all the time; so if a player wants to rock a colored band-aid under his eye then let him. Stern is trying to do away with that quietly. Why do you really think Lebron's shoes are ugly?

Anyway, glad to see Iverson was able to continue his career and not be totally frozen out the Association. I've given you guys a little insight into my thought process whenever a story like this occurs. As you can see, while I still don't give you the everyday, mundane, watered-down hoops analysis; I still hold back a little bit. Maybe I should stop that and just cut loose for real. I guess I will do that from now on. FU has just increased the pressure.



Peace.

If Money Makes A Man Strange...

Free agency can be a harsh reality. It boils down to the brutal honesty of placing a monetary value on what a player means to a franchise. Disconnect happens when the player's camp feels that the bar has been set too low; and the wrong seven-figured number is a sign of disrespect. I'd like to address the major signings that have happened and take you into the psychology of each situation. More after the random picture...

Turkoglu to T-Dot. Go ahead. Make all the jokes you want about the foreign exchange rate. Maybe Hedo decided to head to Canada for the free health care. But there's a reason he ditched contending teams for the struggling Raptors. Personally, I believe Turkoglu did not want to deal with the pressures that came with being the most coveted free agent this offseason. So rather than go back to Orlando or to Portland and be the focus of that team's success, he chose Toronto so he can continue to fit in his nicely-carved niche as an "under-appreciated player" whose "intangibles aren't defined by box scores." If you scared, say you scared; and it looks like Hedo's actions spoke loud and clear. Or maybe it was about the money.

The Maestro Stays in the Desert. Speaking of Canada, Steve Nash is a magician. He has assisted in getting deals for players that they really shouldn't deserve (see: Richardson, Quentin). He was the leader of an offensive movement that still sends shockwaves throughout the Association. However, you know what's said about all good things; and gradually the SSOL Headquarters are relocating its workers one by one. So why did he re-sign with a sinking ship? Why not head for MSG and reunite with his sensei and perhaps their monstrous creation? I feel it's because he doesn't have enough in him to lead two revolutions. He is growing SSOL in mind only, and his back muscles weaken by the game. Hopefully, Ramon Sessions can learn from a distance.

Huskies to the Motor City. As I mentioned in "All Dollar Bills," the elite teams make moves that are both upgrades and bargains. RJ—who has grown more, um, questionable in recent times—to the Spurs is a perfect example. San Antonio gets a proven secondary scorer with Finals experience as both an insurance policy on Manu's ankles and as another weapon if fully healthy. On the flip side of this intelligent thinking, there are the teams that overpay for super role players—or pseudo-stars—believing that it's clicked for them somehow; and that now those players are ready to ascend to stardom. In the past, Luke Ridnour's contract was the perfect example of a terrible financial decision. Now it seems that Joe Dumars had noticeably overpaid for Ben Gordon and Charlie Villanueva in a last-ditch effort save some of his credibility as a GM. Signing Gordon and Villanueva may mean that the days of either or both Rip and Tayshaun in the D are numbered. However, each former UConn Husky has a glaring flaw that will make execs cringe at these contracts in three years. Villanueva is a power forward that can do a few things, except he above average at each of them. He's like Kevin Garnett minus the great; he might be Andrea Bargnani minus the good. At any rate, he's inconsistent. Maybe Dumars paid for both in game stats and number of Twitter followers. Gordon can score. He can shoot. But he also takes a lot of shots. It's like the AI move except he isn't that good nor does he have the resume. If Dumars is supposed to be building towards making the Pistons Stuckey's team, I'm not sure that he and Gordon mix. Their fourth quarter lineup will be interesting.

The Answer With Questions. This reluctantly brings me to Allen Iverson. His skill was as gargantuan as his will for over a decade. But if there ever was an ugly truth that AI fans like me ignored, it's that Iverson is purest form of Ben Gordon. He is the origin of the chemical agent known as, "undersized shooting guard." It seems the one weakness that is readily visible in those diminutive 2-guards has finally shown itself in the host. Because of his style of play, Iverson needs others to mesh with him rather than vice-versa. That's fine, as long as he's The Answer. But when inquiries arise within him, things go awry. Can he still average 20-plus? Sure. But name a team for which he is the perfect fit. You can't, at least not in a starting role. And we've seen how he reacts to the whole coming off the bench thing. I hope you land somewhere, AI.

Odom. Lamar's contract negotiations are appropriate and fitting for him. The Nameless X-Factor, Basketball enthusiasts overlook the fact that next to His Mambaness, Odom is the Lakers' most important player; and they need him. His flourishing gets passed by, but he gets the blame when he himself disappears. Naturally, his worth is undervalued by the management; despite Kobe speaking up on his behalf. It has to be this way. Odom has to be overlooked. It is his destiny to live in the shadows, visible only to those that see his value, nod their heads and say, "true."

Free agency is cold-blooded, and each negotiation is a hard understanding that you're only worth your contract life.



Peace.

Up, Up, Down, Down, Left, Right, Left, Right, B, A, Start

It's been a long time. I've been meaning to vent about a lot of the recent basketball stories: from Jeremy Tyler to Dirk's humble admission to Rafer and Ron-Ron taking it back to Queens. I could go on and on about Lebron or Billups or the difference between JR Smith and Gerald Green (that one is actually coming soon), but I have something different to share with you; and would like your feedback in the comments section. More after the random picture...

I've let it be known over on Money Mike's "Points Off Turnovers!" that Allen Iverson is my favorite all-time player. Even though his titan-slaying crossover on His Airness is his most monumental move in his journey through the Path of Basketball, it's his second-most profound move that confirmed the way I now see Basketball. I'm talking about the one that happened on the court and not the one in the media room that inspired an amazing J-Live/DJ Jazzy Jeff joint. The crossover-step-back corner jumper over Tyronn Lue in the '01 Finals demonstrated that a man, regardless of what was thrown his way, could impose his individual style on another and succeed. In addition to that affirmation, AI's anti-establishment style was further validation to me that a man carves his own destiny and can wield the power to move mountains. I know that sounds like a lot for a jumper in a game that ultimately meant nothing but keeping those Lakers from going undefeated in the playoffs, but I can now recognize those feelings now that I'm older. That one jumper from an unadulterated scorer inspired a shooter to find new ways to play angles to be able to release over taller players. And it was the foundation for the Fundamentally UnSound opinions that you read every...whenever I have time to post.

I couldn't be initially inspired by anything else; not because I'm not enamored with taller players, but rather because AI is someone that resonated with my Basketball soul. Isiah Thomas was a little before I really started watching, and Jason Terry doesn't possess the destructive willpower like Iverson. While Terry's one of my favorite players to watch, he isn't a shatterer of worlds; and that's what AI's jumper appeared to do to Mr. Lue. Iverson had to be the one to confirm my vision of the sport to me because he was the first player that I viewed differently. Even God Jordan to me was someone that was superhuman through tenacity; and didn't have blatant individualism through rebellion. Jordan was un-eff-witable because he was amazing; AI was all that with the candor of the best of hip-hop verses (Shout-out to Inspectah Deck).

That move was nearly a decade ago, yet I get special feelings for it whenever I see it. See, there are some things that will stay with you, whether consciously or subconsciously, that will shape the way you view tings, situations, events, and moments in life. They are things from your younger years that will bring back the entusiasm of youth once you have thought of them. They can be from anything, and not just necessarily related to your particular passion. For whatever reason, you can't forget them if you tried. They are the Konami Code for video game heads, something that designers of a few web sites have included on their pages after so many years.

So I'm asking you, Basketball fan, what moment in time is the cornerstone for how you see Hoops? Even if you don't look on Basketball with the analytical scope as I do, there is still something—some moment—that you can recall that will fill your Basketball mind with content. And I'd love to know what it is.

Peace.

In Search of Yang...or Yin: Part 4

In Part 3, I examined how the circumstances of some yin/yang relationships have made it so the two entities are on the same team, able to harmonize for the betterment of their franchises. Now it's on to the next level of the balance of yin and yang.

Sometimes, yin/yang relationships are revealed through the crossing of paths. For example, Bird and Magic discovered each other through their epic matchup in the 1979 NCAA Championship Game (Side Note: Money Mike has an outstanding piece on their relationship through the form/function lens). The rest is, as they say, history. Almost two decades later, two players were able to meet each other as basketball soulmates in virtually the same collegiate stage. For more, you know where to meet me...

Before the incarnation of Chris Paul, Allen Iverson unquestionably ruled as my favorite basketball player for the past decade. With diminutive stature and gargantuan willpower, AI was my Answer to MJ's retirement. It was more than his crossover, but rather his ability to bring a rebellious style to the Association, and force its acceptance of him as an all-time great in the sport. Besides Kobe, Lebron, and Wade, no player intimidates more when he has the ball in a perimeter isolation situation than Iverson. But back in his Georgetown days, he came face-to-face with his UConn counterpart: Ray Allen.

Jesus Shuttlesworth looks like he's done nothing wrong in his life. He's a gentleman with a clean-cut persona and a perfectly constructed jump shot. He and Iverson had battles during their conjoined times in the Big East, none more famous than their 1996 Big East Tournament duel in which Ray hit the game-winner. Their destinies have been linked since. After being cornerstones to franchises, they have each been traded in hopes of pairing them with a budding small forward—Iverson with 'Melo and Ray with Rashard Lewis. After those respective experiments failed, both have been on the move again, landing with contenders in hopes of getting that elusive championship glory. Ray was successful last season in Boston, and Iverson is struggling to fit in with Detroit; coincidentally, with another systematic player in Rip Hamilton. Both have also maintained a surprisingly high level of productivity despite double-digit years in the Association.

The differences in their respective personalities and visions of Basketball are obvious. While Ray hasn't had the off-court obstacles that Iverson has had, he has had to endure tumultuous periods of his life as well. Both have had bouts with injuries, but it's Iverson that gets praised for his toughness. Everyone designates Iverson with the definition of the crossover dribble and Ray with the blueprint of the perimeter stroke. However, Ray was once a do-it-all highflyer; and AI is an underrated shooter (Note: shooting doesn't equal shot selection). Another interesting difference is that each of their best seasons were under coaches naturally opposite of their basketball souls. AI played under Larry "Play The Right Way" Brown, and Ray had George Karl in Milwaukee. They dueled again in the 2001 Eastern Conference Finals, with Iverson's 76ers besting Allen's Bucks in seven games en route to a Finals loss to the Lakers.

Where these two differ most is how they've altered their visions of Basketball as they've gotten older. Ray has chosen to add structure to his naturally rigid game, while Iverson still has remained steadfast in his nonconformity. This is what intrigues me about AI, seeing as though while he isn't quite the same player as he was in Philly, he can still dominate. He can't carry a team on his back anymore, but is still capable of being a number one option. Normally, with age comes an understanding and harnessing of all that youthful exuberance great players showcase in the beginning of their careers. For example, MJ was a gold-chain wearing, dunk contest winning skywalker in gorgeous sneakers. After the first retirement, he came back more neurotic with an impeccable weapon in the mid-range shot. AI hasn't deviated from being free-flowing one bit, even as his importance on a team gradually dwindles. Even though this season's stats aren't what we're used to from him, they're still better than any point guard not named Paul, Williams or Harris.
Ray Allen, coming off an incline in numbers in then-Seattle, still saw the logic behind sacrificing his self for the ultimate team goal, and was rewarded for it. This isn't to say that Ray is more mature than Iverson, but perhaps AI should consider shrinking his demand for the ball at the top of the key and look to get others involved around him—something which is still an underrated ability he possesses (He gave Aaron McKie a career).

Even though Iverson is frowned upon by some basketball purists, he's more of a lock for the Hall of Fame than Ray Allen; and the one with the bigger casual fan base. AI is the transcendant talent, While Ray—due to his structure—is the borderline great player. More people can instantly appreciate an Iverson crossover than Ray coming off a stagger screen for a three; each are beautiful in their own way. Ray does have the ring AI wants, and that is the awkward game-winning jumper in the Big East Tourney that the former Husky has over the former Hoya.

Peace.