Three Weeks In: In Thee Face!

We've reached the third week of the NBA season, and unlike college hoops, the offense is ahead of defense. A good portion of that has to do with the small yet significant fact that 97% of NBA players don't play defense. But at least at the early onset of this season, offensive players are taking defenders challenging at the rim a little more personally. They're attacking, and attacking with malice in their hearts. This begs the question: why is everybody dunking on everybody?

I understand that posters are a part of the game; and that they happen pretty much on a nightly basis. After all, there's a site dedicated to the meeting at the summit of the rim. But it just seems that these dunks are much more meaningful—more disrespectful. There are dunks, and then there are posters that are very rude and could end friendships. The early part of this season has had a lot of the latter—for reasons I cannot explain. I understood the mentality behind Melo's dunk because he's one of the few star players that has something to "prove." But the others...I just don't know what or why those deserved that emotional abuse. Except for...

Mr. Varejao aka "Sideshow Bob" aka "Carlito," I know why he deserved to be dunked on by His Wadeness. He is a notorious flopper and annoyance in the paint. He routinely violates two Hoop Commandments. He's seven feet tall and takes charges instead of using his length; and always tries to take said charges when defending a fast break. That was the one time he wanted to be tall and he failed because he isn't used to it. I have no sympathy for him. You are forever in the Wade highlight reel with your feet over your head and your ridiculous hair flopping around. Take that.

I'm going to set aside a paragraph for the man with the best disc jockey name that no one can use: DJ Mbenga. Fun fact: Mbenga is well-versed in the Martial Arts. Well, I guess self-defense doesn't aid one in interior defense because highflyers are challenging him above the rim with reckless abandon. Not-so-gradually, he's becoming the new Shawn Bradley. Or, he's Dikembe Mutombo without the resume to worry about being dunked on. One has to admire his determination, but also frown on his low success rate. You can even give him the benefit of the doubt and excuse the Rudy Gay & Blake Griffin posters; seeing those two have rocket boosters in their legs and rise well above the backboard square. However, where I draw the line is when DMV product Ty Lawson rose on DJ like it was an insult for Mbenga to do even be near the rim. It wasn't quite KJ on Olajuwon, but it had the "In De Face!" factor that Iverson on Camby lacks.

These dunks—from Melo to Will Bynum—are a collective statement that interior defense is not like it used to be. Someone put Hasheem Thabeet on alert.



Peace.

Mystique Through Avoidance

I'm taking a break from my yin/yang series. It's not because I'm stuck, because I have at least seven more parts to it, but rather so Money Mike and his form/function series can catch up. But before I get into my latest brainstorm, I must pay respect where respect is due. Alexander Ovechkin is, pound for pound, the most fake athlete in sports. But is it less fake or more fake when he has two similarly impossible goals? You be the judge. Anyway, to the post...

Before the chaos of the summer of 2010 gets underway, Basketball fans are anticipating next year's dunk contest; in which The Royal King James has apparently decided to descend from his throne and showcase his otherworldly athleticism in the spirit of fun. For those of you that are believing that fallacy, then allow me to save you some heartbreak. The odds of Lebron participating in a dunk contest are slim, if none. There are many reasons why, and you guessed it, they're outlined after the random pic...

Allow me to preface this with MJ. Those that believe Lebron's declaration cite that, "Jordan was in the dunk contest, and he was the G.O.A.T." True and true, but not even MJ had the same path towards stardom that Lebron enjoys. When Jordan entered the Association, he wasn't anointed as The One—primarily because Bird and Magic were at the peak of their titan-like rivalry and the League didn't need another torch-bearer just yet. Through uncanny work ethic and sheer will to be The Best, he bullied his way into the highest of Hoops echelons. Yes, he was blessed with natural gifts, but he had to snatch his crown.

Conversely, Lebron was anointed from his St. Vincent, St. Mary days. He forced the invocation of having high school games on national TV to justify broadcasting his games on Pay-Per-View. His nickname of The Chosen One was bluntly literal, and ever since 2003, he's been the face of the NBA for the new millennium—whether he was amazing or not. Of course he's amazing. And while until this season, Kobe has been the premier perimeter player and still leads in global jersey sales, it's obvious that James has been selected to be the definition of NBA.

So what does this have to do with the 2010 All-Star Weekend? Observe The Lebrons commericial in which they hold a backyard dunk contest. Athlete Lebron says, "He doesn't really do dunk contests," but it's Business who provides the true insight into how Lebron really feels about spontaneous displays of awesome. "Dunk contests are bourgeois." Lebron is building a genuine Baskeball empire, and anything that could hinder it—even slightly—is merely a distraction from his ultimate goal: global icon status. What's even more frustrating to fans is that in pre-game warm-ups, he puts on performances that leave us wondering, "Why not in February?"

The reason why I believe it won't happen is because he already has mystique. As I said, with MJ, he sort of had to create his greatness aura. Yes, he had accolades on his college resume, but he wasn't treasured as the rare gem until "The Layup." Lebron's mystique partly lies in the fact that he hasn't been in a dunk contest. As I heard on TV once, "He has the lure of being the greatest dunk contest dunker...without ever dunking." Does he feel that even he couldn't compete with those acrobatic free-spirits that love to spread their wings? Maybe.
Back on the Vince post, I stated that Carter's dunks are his exertion of dominance...in dunking. I feel that when Lebron takes flight, it's a physical declaration that his might is untouched—that he is a god among immortals. While Kobe and MJ are Almighty tacticians through repetition and acquiring of more skill, Lebron is a sculpted supreme being, crafted from the Heavens with the powers of every aspect of the Basketball Realm within arm's reach. Winning a dunk contest wouldn't add to his legacy because he's created a portion of his legacy through not competing. And that may be a little more gratifying. I'll believe it when they announce his name in Dallas.


Peace.

Death From Above The Rim: Who Killed It?

(Note: This was supposed to be written during All-Star Saturday, but I had Love Day obligations which resulted in seeing the worst movie I've watched in at least 18 months. *Woo-Sah* On to the post.)

Flashback to this time, nine years ago. A young, upstart swingman named Vince Carter put on one of the greatest individual displays of athleticism in sports history. It was the kind of performance in which mere mortals realized why they aren't in the Association; and fellow NBA immortals showed their reverence to Vinsanity while he was in his airborne element. With his mouthed exclamation of, "It's over," he did more than just state he was champion of that night in Oakland. He, in fact, killed the dunk contest.

'll examine two tangents that stem from this initial idea. The first being Carter himself. The perception among Basketball observers is that he doesn't have the most passionate approach to the game. To detractors, he only plays basketball because he can and not because he loves to do it. Despite infinite talent, he placed a low, finite ceiling on his career through real or fabricated injuries and the inability to win in the postseason. But when Carter dunks, it's as if he's an entirely different being. Carter almost never shows emotion, but always gets amped whenever he does something spectacular. The dunk appears to be Vince's exertion of dominance—a way to reclaim his territory. He dares the opposition, both defenders in the paint and dunk contest competitors in 2000, to challenge him—to meet him at/above the rim. So for someone as standoffish as Carter to be the demise of such a timeless event is a testament to Basketball itself. A player who's been described as a shell of what he should be hollowed out an event, making it a shell of what it used to be.

This brings me to Dwight Howard. Yes, his past two performances—particularly the one in 2008—were refreshing and aethetically pleasing. He stole the show, but merely took the dunk contest's cadaver. To me, his 2008 performance overrates one aspect (The Superman Dunk) and underrates the other (all of his other dunks). This isn't to say that I wasn't impressed, because I was floored by the freakishness of it. However, considering the overall blandness of previous contests, save for a few flashes of brilliance, D-12 didn't have much as competition. He surpassed the level of post-VC slamfests as easily as he throws one down, but not even the Man of Steel can windmill life force back into the dunk contest.
So congrats to you, Nate Robinson. At least you brought something resembling winning to the Knicks. And for those of you anticipating Lebron's appearance in the 2010 edition in Dallas, don't count on it. He'd be four months away from the biggest individual payday in NBA history (including endorsements). Plus, I don't think the folks at the Swoosh would authorize it.



Peace.

RE: Infatuation

Ever since 1996, one player has ruled the "my favorite basketball player" section of the chaos dimension that is my sports heart; and that player is Allen Iverson. On the court, The Answer is the basketball embodiment of every positive character trait I strive to have. He's diminutive by professional athlete standards; but possesses the heart and willpower of an immeasurable level. That tenacity allows him to equal and sometimes surpass the on-the-court production of his taller peers (third all-time in career points per game average). Then, to add to that, he does everything his own way. Braids, tattoos, and "inner city urban youth" swagger. To put it bluntly, he just doesn't give a...you know. For twelve years, AI has ruled my chaos dimension with a permanently inked fist; and I felt there would be no one—not even His Airness—that could overthrow him. I mean, Timmy has his fundamentally sound place in the kingdom, but I can't relate to being seven feet tall...and boring. The Black Mamba has garnered my respect, but it's more out of basketball awe than adoration. But suddenly, there is another. A young king that is slowly moving in on Iverson's territory. That man is Chris Paul.


Few players have captivated my attention to the point where I watch every second that he has the basketball. Steve Nash as maestro of the Phoenix Suns at the height of their offensive brilliance—yes, that window is closed—is the most recent example of how one man can have an entire game on puppet strings. It's as if Nash is so intelligent he is mentally three steps ahead of the defense, despite being a step slower physically; and the result is poetry in motion. Chris Paul has that same intellect, and the athletic gifts as well. So it appears he's four or five steps ahead of the other team. A prime example of this is what he did to Jason Kidd and the Dallas Mavericks in this recent first-round series. Avery Johnson may still be a "young" coach, but I think he knew that stopping Paul was priorities one through three. But that's just it. CP3 made it look as if the Mavericks' game plan was to stop the other players on the court; and let him have free roam. The result: four Hornets' wins in five games, and Avery's looking for employment.


Chris Paul's pure talent isn't the reason why he's challenging Allen Iverson for supremacy of my basketball heart. I mean, Jason Kidd was a wizard of a floor general, and so is Andre Miller. What allows him to even have a place in this dimension in the first place is his on-the-court leadership and swagger. He's not brash or boastful, but walks with a air of self-confidence that only true leaders carry. He has a demeanor...like a king. The difference between his leadership and, say, Kobe's is that it seems Paul's teammates follow him willingly; whereas the rest of the Lakers follow Kobe out of fear. I believe that Chris Paul would still be cherished and still be the unquestioned leader of the Hornets if his stats were cut in half. He has that much presence, and it seems that people flock to him and his players want to play better because he gives them the support and direction a great leader provides. I know the other players are talented on their own; but it seems they're performing better than they would under a lot of the other leaders around the league.

Chris Paul is beginning to destroy and rebuild the regime that Allen Iverson has constructed for the past twelve years in the basketball section of my sports heart. He hasn't completely overtaken The Answer's throne yet, but the empire is beginning to shake at its foundation. It reminds me of what The Roots, D'Angelo, J-Live and others (links probably NSFW: explicit language) have done to my musical tastes...But that's for another writing space—not for Fundamentally UnSound. Part of me wants to see him conquer Timmy and the Spurs, simply because it would provide more ammunition needed to overthrow Iverson. Hmm...apparently my chaos dimension is welcoming this change. It'll be interesting if the transformation will complete. For now, AI, you have company.


Peace.