The Inaugural Hoops Movie Draft: Part II

Folks, the dead period between NBA Summer League and preseason is the worst of times for serious hoops heads. Yeah, a lot of the pros go back home or to their home team cities to play in various Pro-Am leagues, such as Mr. Durant and Agent Zero at the Goodman League in Barry Farm here in DC. While those are exciting, the mainstream Basketball realm is quiet. That's where Money Mike over at "Points Off Turnovers" comes in. He solicited my help, and together we young superpowers have combined to formulate the Hoops Movie Draft, sponsored by talented Black men with extraordinary writing ability. Part One is over at Mike's blog spot, which leaves me with the honor of lacing Part Two with that FU awesome. To get caught up with the rules and the first five picks, go read Part One now...


Right now...

Go on...

I'll wait...

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Kwame still is not good...

I wonder what Michael Olowokandi's doing...

Ok, you're back? Good. After the random picture, Mike reveals the movie he selects at #6.

6. Mike selects…Sean Connery & That Black Guy in Finding Forrester.

Imagine walking down the street in your hometown and being asked to star in a motion picture. Well, that’s basically how mystery man Rob Brown got invited to audition for the lead role in “Forrester.” Like your typical broke collegiate graduate, Brown needed to pay the bills. He stumbled upon an opportunity to extra for a quick check and took the bait. The rest is history. The producers saw him, asked him to try out for the lead role…and an actor was born.
Though he was extremely raw, the movie’s premise was easy. He was, well, playing himself.
“Forrester” tracks the growth of a gifted black student (Jamal Wallace) who finds himself trapped in high school’s oppressive subculture, unable to showcase his unbelievable writing talent without ridicule. Jamal gains respect from his peers through his hoop game, not his immense brain. Eventually, Jamal catches the eye of a Manhattan prep school recruiter, who invites Jamal to the academy after seeing that his jumper is wet and his academics are exceptional.

However, Jamal wants desperately to be a great writer. After losing a bet, he stumbles into the life of William Forrester (Sean Connery), a recluse who surreptitiously reminds us of J.D. Salinger. Forrester teaches Jamal how to write, and Jamal teaches William how to live again.
Why do I like this movie? The strictly coincidental scenes they stole from my life’s script. The agreeable transition of Busta Rhymes from rapper to actor. The cameo appearance from Matt Damon. The hoop scenes not being zoomed all the way in like a Jerry Bruckheimer production. The tastefully done pickup game backdrop on the credits page. The reminder of why I chose to become a writer. And the importance of carpe diem and living life to the fullest.

You’re the man now, dawg.

(Aside here: this is the steal of the draft. For young, Black hoopers and writers, "Finding Forrester" wonderfully touched both areas. Low key, I was upset Mike picked this one. That was my Stephen Curry, lol. Now on to my pick.)

7. J-Till selects...Coach Carter

Fact: Samuel L. Jackson is the baddest motha(watch yo mouth) in the acting biz. From his brief cameo as the McDowell's robber in "Coming to America" to Jules in "Pulp Fiction," he is a master motivator. This is mainly because he is so freaking loud for no apparent reason. And don't let his eyes bug out--you know he means what he says when that happens The lead role of Ken Carter is perfect for him. He's witty, sarcastic, and bald. As with all of these movies, you know the story. Carter comes back to his old high school in hopes of making a difference in the place where he was raised. There, he meets a band of half-degenerates that completely lack discipline. Through suicides, pushups and female-named plays, Richmond (CA) becomes a force on the court.
Of course, success on the court is counterbalanced by various troubles off it. The streets, teen pregnancy, and even the community's lack of priorities are all issues Carter and his players must overcome. And, through the power of the Samuel L. Jackson monologue, they do. Let's just be glad no one said "what" to him.

8. Mike selects…Space Jam.

This movie’s not about Michael Jordan. Sure, we can spend these next few paragraphs talking about His Airness, but aren’t you sick of talking about this guy? Six rings, five MVPs, 14 ASG, 10 First Team’s…blah, blah, blah. We know he’s the best to ever play the hardwood game, the best ever to palm the roundball. But this movie’s more about the people that made M.J. look good than about Jordan himself. For the first time in his career, fans saw a flawed Michael Jordan, a man more Boris Kodjoe than Denzel Washington on the big screen...and embraced him all the more.

Space Jam was a blockbuster because of these true heroes of the film strip. The producers had success because they honored the unwritten rule of Hollywood: When the lead can’t carry the movie, make sure your supporting characters hide the flaws. We witnessed Wayne Knight during his ethereal stretch run, Bill Murray before his career dive tailed, Danny DeVito when we still though he was the successor to the Al Pacino/Robert DeNiro throne, and the pairing of Bugs Bunny with newcomer Lola Bunny to break up the, er, sausage fest. Plus, when you’ve got a relative unknown carrying the vocals along with Monica…you’ve really got hakuna matada. Plus, we got to see Eric Gordon in a small role before he became a hoop sensation.

Wait, what?

9. J-Till selects...Glory Road

Long before Glory Road was ever thought of, I felt if there was anyone who could capture the bigotry of Adolph Rupp, it was Jon Voight. I don't feel he's a racist or anything like that. I just felt he had the face for what lies beneath Coach K. Apologies for the digression, but not for the statement. "Glory Road" is the cinematic version of the 1966 Texas Western , led by Coach Don Haskins. The team triumphs over racism, and defeats Rupp and his big, bad Kentucky Wildcats.

Because of the way the story is told nowadays, few people tend to overlook the fact that there were White players on that team. It was a major sacrifice on their part to humbly sit out of that game—the Championship Game—as Haskins played an all-Black, seven-man rotation. If you ignore the fact that these three guys were chosen as players, it's actually a pretty decent depiction of the story. Texas Western is now known as UTEP...shout-out to Tim Hardaway.

10. Mike selects…Whoopi Goldberg in Eddie.

I really think my Knick fandom, love of hoops (did you know that thing had 49 NBA players?), and narcoleptic tendencies got in the way on this pick. I can’t even remember why I made this pick. I’ve never found Whoopi funny or attractive (her face reminds me of Predator), or thought Dennis Farina as anything more than a glorified typecast. The movie was completely absent of gratuitous hot chicks (like Theresa Randle in Beverly Hills Cop 3) and timely one-liners. Why would I waste my time with a crappy G movie when there are still levels of Mega Man left to beat?

I wouldn’t. And neither would you. I’d like to believe I drafted this movie to honor the late great Malik Sealy…but I don’t think he’d want to be remembered as the ball hog who got owned by GP. I’d like to believe I picked this movie to see Rick Fox act, but I already knew that hoop stars that sneak to the big screen for a big payday end up looking worse than Keanu Reeves in everything non-Matrix. I’d like to believe that I picked this movie to laugh my way through the aftermath of the Isiah Era…but it only served as a brutal reminder of his incompetence.
I guess Eddie’ll just be the Luc Longley of my superstar squad. And with “Jump”, “Blue Chips”, “Forrester”, and “Jam” already on tap, my championship team is definitely on lock. Don’t look at me like that. This economy’s no joke, dawg.

So, this concludes the two-part Hoops Movie Draft. Before I say "Peace," I'll share a couple of observations I made while reviewing our picks. First, we picked according to our personalities. Over Twitter, I coined the saying that Money Mike is, "the Martin to my sportswriting Malcolm." This means we have the same goals and mind frame, but execute it differently. Plainly put, Mike's nicer than me. (I won't put what I want to say because I don't curse in my writing.) Even though each movie we picked has some sort of unintentional comedy, all of Mike's movies were more lighthearted than mine. Again, that speaks to our personalities. Mike's on a more "non-violent, non-violent" piece; while I get my point across "by any means necessary." However you put it, we're a dynamic duo and will crush you in any sports debate.

The second observation is that I don't think David Stern would be too pleased with our selections considering that there aren't any movies of the, *ahem*, "lighter" persuasion. Oh well, we're Black. "Hoosiers" gets no love over here. Hopefully, we took you back and allowed you to reminisce over quality basketball cinema while you wait another 50 days for the NBA regular season to begin.



Peace.

FU Guest Analysis: Money Mike on Starbury

To start off March, we’re treated with Fundamentally UnSound’s first Guest Post. You may remember a couple posts by my good friend Jeff Scott, but since he is allegedly a contributor to this site, those don’t count as “Guest” posts. No matter. Today’s post is from Michael “Money Mike (Copyright: Me...don't take that nickname as your own)” Benjamin, student writer for HU’s The Hilltop, and author of the blog, “Points Off Turnovers.” He’s the originator of the "Mo' Better Hoops" form/function series I link to in conjunction with my yin/yang series, and the other young superpower that relishes in analyzing Basketball’s underlying ideas as much as I do. And he can help you with life stuff, too. I’d let you readers in on some of the joint projects we have in store for the Realm of Basketball and its observers, but why spoil the surprise? Anyway, check out his analysis of Stephon Marbury. We’re both Knicks fans (You have about 15 months to laugh at that. In 2010, the tables will turn.), but he’s actually from The Big Apple (Queens); and as you will read, Marbury means something a little different to him than he does to me. Peep after the random pic…

Starbury’s Renaissance

Stephon Marbury, you will be missed.

To me, Marbury’s like the quirky uncle that everyone’s got in their family. He’s the guy in your family that always shows up to Thanksgiving dinner late, has a new girlfriend every time you see him, owns a ridiculously nice set of threads, favors an unusual set of role models, and probably knows a few guys who have had their share of run-ins with the law (or has had his own problems). Quoting Nick, the narrator of The Great Gatsby, I suggest that this uncle had such “an acute limited excellence” that everything afterward “savors of anticlimax”.

But no matter what chaos ensues with this guy, you can’t help but love him. Why? Because he’s a part of your family. He’s always bringing something to the table. He’s part of what makes your family unique.

Obviously, I’m over-generalizing, but you get the point.

To New York basketball heads, Stephon Marbury is that uncle.

You see, unlike the rest of the media, I don’t consider Stephon Marbury crazy. Sure, Stephon Marbury’s has had instances of peculiar behavior, but who hasn’t? Our world is full of head cases and eccentric personalities. But Marbury is more than that. He’s a talented basketball player, a product of media hype and his Brooklyn upbringing, and is New York City’s prodigal son.

I've witnessed Marbury's meteoric rise to stardom from the courts of Lincoln High. Honestly, we were all witnesses. His life even inspired one of the greatest basketball books of the last decade—Darcy Frey's The Last Shot.

I even saw the sadness appear on Marbury’s normally sunny disposition in the games following his father’s untimely death. Death is an inherent truth that affects us all regardless of fame and class status.

I hate how the general media has conveniently forgotten about the positive contributions that Stephon Marbury has made to American society. Seeing the rampant violence that plagued our inner cities due to the infectious disease caused by the corporate marketing of Nike’s Air Jordans, Starbury made a responsible fiscal decision to step in and try to rectify the situation. While most athletes squander their earnings on senseless goods and services, Starbury teamed with Steve and Barry’s to produce an affordable sneaker for America’s youth.

I don’t believe Marbury’s new franchise family will ever understand. Since Marbury’s in the last year of his contract, Boston Celtic fans know that he’s just passing through, so they’ll shower him with empty praise. Heck, Marbury’s being used up worse than Bridget Moynahan. In the big scheme of things, it’s probably for the best. We don’t need Celtics fans later spewing racial epithets onto our misunderstood hero. The city of Boston’s got a serious history of racial hate than most people don’t realize.

I don’t think they’ll ever fully embrace Starbury.

Since the buyout, I’ve experienced the entire stream of emotions in regards to our city’s prodigal son. Yeah, I’ve gone through my five stages of grief. I denied the fact that Starbury would don the green and white Celtics’ uniform, even though their city kept openly flirting with our much maligned superstar. I was angry when Knicks management refused to allow Starbury to participate in team activities, finally conceding that perhaps Marbury is too turbulent a personality for our young players. I was depressed after I first read of Marbury’s agreed buyout, finally realizing that he would never again wear his city’s famed colors.

Now, after seeing Stephon Marbury succeed in his first game in our northern rival’s city, I’m come to accept the fact that he’s gone. I’ll always root for Marbury because in a weird, roundabout way, Marbury represents me.

As a New Yorker, Marbury is me.

In Search of Yang...or Yin: Part 2

After reading this on my boy Mike Benjamin's, "Points Off Turnovers," (Side note: Seriously, Mike, I want in on this...man) I am compelled to probe deeper into my basketball yin/yang theory. I will avoid the obvious pairings and unearth various inverse/converse relationships within the important tiers of the Basketball Realm. After the picture, The Flash Green Lantern...


Being: Dwyane Wade

Yin or Yang?: Yin...too much yin.

Possible Yangs: Monta Ellis, J.R. Smith, Leandro Barbosa, Gerald Wallace

Actual Yang: Gilbert Arenas

I struggled mightily between either placing Wallace or Arenas as Wade's compliment, but I decided to go with The Hibachi; mainly because Wallace's star isn't as bright as Arenas' (and he falls a lot). Using Mr. Benjamin's form/function theorem, both Arenas and Wade use the other's element as a secondary-but-vital piece to the way he approaches Basketball. Wade, geometrically symmetrical with the backboard as his colleague, has flawless footwork when lining up his jumper. However, in his Iverson-like relentlessness to the rim, he employs whichever involutary bodily movement that is needed to score. Even in that mix, he demonstrates the fundamentals of the layup: off the glass.

Arenas, the exemplar of impulsive and whim, straddles the lines of consciousness—almost perilously. Yet, he is a tireless worker in the gym, as if he wants to elaborate on his impulsiveness through the rigors of structure. As Bethlehem Shoals said, "[Arenas] has atomized the game..." Though he sees the Realm of Basketball as a place to do whatever he feels, he is respectful of it, and a sage with quirkiness as his mystical arts. Both Wade and Arenas are masters of their craft, and need each other's basic ingredient to make their respective games whole.

Being: Brandon Roy

Yin or Yang?: A whole lotta Yin

Possible Yangs: Rudy Fernandez, Rudy Gay, Ben Gordon

Actual Yang: Nick Young

Brandon Roy will have his name among the Association heavens real soon. His game is stoic and disciplined. A microcosm of this is that as a right-handed player, he loves going to his left offensively. With silent confidence, he assassinates opposing wing players, and can still get the rest of his teammates involved down the stretch. Roy has underrated athleticism, and doesn't feel the need to display it unless it's necessary.

Nick Young may not ever reach the potential his game has set out for him to attain. Scoring comes naturally, and the Wizards have finally let him loose to put the ball in the basket. Plainly put, he gets buckets. As far as personalities go, Roy is mostly soft-spoken. He's not boring, but Young is definitely more of the extrovert. His nickname is, "Hollywood," and well, he does stuff like this for fun. Roy is certainly a better player than Young, but if Nick is allowed to ascend to his rightful plane, then their compatibility will come to fruition.

This is shaping up to be a long series, with more than just yin/yang relationships between players. Your move, Money Mike.


Peace.