The following are some strategies for 2x2 pickup games:
Find the mismatch. Usually, the two teams won't be even. If one of their guys can't guard you or your teammate, find some way to get matched up onto them. Use screens to make them switch.
Double-team to avoid a mismatch. If you have the mismatch on your team, use strategic double-teams to limit the damage. Don't double too early, especially against good passers.
Be methodical. There's no shot clock, so take your time. Use screens, post ups, and work the ball inside-out to get the shot you want. The longer you make your opponent play defense, the greater chance they'll make a mistake.
Sag off bad shooters and protect the rim. Whoever is guarding a weak shooter should sag off the three point line and protect the rim. This allows the other defender to guard the perimeter more tightly, because they know they have help at the rim.
Use post ups to set up motion. There's not a lot of opportunity for off ball motion in 2x2, but you can create a little faux screen by having one player post up near the block while the other player uses him and the defender as a screen. The off ball player can just run a tight curl around the player posting up and then receive a pass, which will be good for a jump shot.
These are just a few strategies. Leave yours in the comments.
Monday, August 7, 2017
Tuesday, January 3, 2017
Make It, Take It
If you are playing half court basketball at the park or the gym, there is only one way to play:
Make it, take it.
I don't know where this way to play came from, or when it started, but it's the only appropriate way to play basketball in pickup. Alternating possession after scores is weird and awkward, much like your buddy who plays basketball three times a year but for some reason has a shooting sleeve and a knee brace.
The only scenario in which not using Make it, Take it is acceptable is if you're playing full court basketball. Make it, Take it would interrupt the flow of the game.
If you're worried about never getting the ball on offense, suck it up. That might happen. Play better defense. Get a different squad. Do something. But don't be the schmuck that insists on getting the ball after another team scores. It's lame. If you want the ball, go get the ball. Then keep it.
It's how pickup basketball is played. If you're a father, teach your kids. If you're an older sibling, teach it to your younger brother or sister. Pass this down among our generations.
On the playground, in the gym, on the street, we play Make it, Take it.
Thursday, April 14, 2016
Playoff Predictions
The Warriors are going to win the championship. Because they're easily the best team ever. I give the Spurs 25% chance of beating them, which seems way too high, but Greg Popovich is my spirit animal, so I always give them too much credit.
The Philadelphia Experiment
Now that the 76ers 2015-16 season is over and their GM Sam Hinkie resigned with a 13-page letter, I thought it would be a good time to write a few words on why Hinkie's Process didn't work.
I don't think anyone would disagree with the fundamentals of Hinkie's plan for the 76ers. It's almost common knowledge that one of the worst things you can do as an NBA franchise is be middle-class. Sure, it's nice to say you made the playoffs eight of the last nine seasons, but when you're consistently getting the seventh or eighth seed, it destroys your basketball product. How so?
The lowest seed to win a championship in the NBA was the sixth seeded Houston Rockets in 1994-95, and they were defending their championship from the year before. So they knew how to win, and are the giant exception to the rule. Usually the winner of the Finals comes from the top three seeds in either conference.
When you're constantly making the playoffs as such a low seed, you're constantly picking in the late teens and early twenties in the draft. There's probably a chance you'll stumble into a quality player there, if you scout well, but there are rarely any franchise players picked that low in the draft. In fact, it's rare to find any superstar picked outside of the top five. You'd have to be insanely lucky to get a player that can change the direction of your team so late in the draft.
When you add in the fact that established NBA superstars rarely change teams (and even when they do it's to only a few markets), it's easy to see that fielding a mediocre team year after year eventually lands you in basketball purgatory. Yeah, you're good enough to make the playoffs, but you'll never be good enough to win.
So Hinkie's plan (and the 76ers ownership's, too, don't forget) was to bottom out and get high draft picks, hoping one of them would be that elusive superstar that every franchise wants. And bottom out they did. The Sixers record the last three years was 47-199. That's an average of 15.6 wins per season. That's bottoming out with gusto.
But it was the plan. The Sixers wanted to get high draft picks and collect assets so that they could either stumble onto a superstar or two through the draft, or trade for one with the high-value assets (draft picks and young players) they owned. Losing helped them do this. Not only did they collect those assets through their losing, they also participated in several trades that help them obtain picks or young players with team-friendly contracts.
Everyone agrees this is a sound strategy. So what went wrong?
First, the Sixers had bad luck. They didn't get Karl-Anthony Towns or D'Angelo Russell. They missed out on Andrew Wiggins and Jabari Parker. Sometimes the lottery balls just don't bounce your way and the great players are taken before it's your turn.
Second, Philadelphia missed on their own picks. They traded for rookie forward Nerlens Noel, whose ceiling is poor man's Tyson Chandler but more than likely is just going to be a decent rotation player. They drafted Michael Carter-Williams, who was rookie of the year, then promptly traded him to the Bucks for assets. The next year, they drafted center Joel Embiid and forward Dario Saric, neither of whom has played a minute in the NBA. Then, last year, the Sixers drafted forward Jahlil Okafor.
If you're keeping track, that's four front court players drafted in a league where the team with the best record every plays a 6'7" forward at center. I don't understand this part of the Process, because even in a traditional sense all four of those guys can't play together. Maybe Hinkie's plan involved a team with only one guard. I don't know. But so far, those picks have not worked out well for them.
Third, they failed to sign veteran players to help develop their young team. Hinkie's plan called for young players with team-friendly contracts. That meant veterans weren't needed. Veteran players are for teams trying to win. The Sixers wanted assets, not victories. This makes sense in theory. But realistically, those young players need older guys to teach them how to play, how to live the NBA lifestyle, and how to be professional. The Sixers haven't had those guys the last three years. In fact, they've done their best to make sure none of them were around, because the most important thing was assets until you get your superstars. This led to a losing culture and a team with bad habits. Coaches can do their job to the best of their ability, but they need veterans to pass on their message. Philadelphia didn't have strong, veteran voices to teach young players how to win and thrive in the NBA.
In the end, I don't think the problem in Philly was with Hinkie's plan. It was the execution of the plan. He wasn't trying to lose on purpose or game the system. He had a strategy that he developed based on the landscape of the NBA. It just didn't work. Part of it was his fault and part of it was just the luck that comes along with sports sometimes. I'm interested to see where he ends up, and where the Sixers go from here.
I don't think anyone would disagree with the fundamentals of Hinkie's plan for the 76ers. It's almost common knowledge that one of the worst things you can do as an NBA franchise is be middle-class. Sure, it's nice to say you made the playoffs eight of the last nine seasons, but when you're consistently getting the seventh or eighth seed, it destroys your basketball product. How so?
The lowest seed to win a championship in the NBA was the sixth seeded Houston Rockets in 1994-95, and they were defending their championship from the year before. So they knew how to win, and are the giant exception to the rule. Usually the winner of the Finals comes from the top three seeds in either conference.
When you're constantly making the playoffs as such a low seed, you're constantly picking in the late teens and early twenties in the draft. There's probably a chance you'll stumble into a quality player there, if you scout well, but there are rarely any franchise players picked that low in the draft. In fact, it's rare to find any superstar picked outside of the top five. You'd have to be insanely lucky to get a player that can change the direction of your team so late in the draft.
When you add in the fact that established NBA superstars rarely change teams (and even when they do it's to only a few markets), it's easy to see that fielding a mediocre team year after year eventually lands you in basketball purgatory. Yeah, you're good enough to make the playoffs, but you'll never be good enough to win.
So Hinkie's plan (and the 76ers ownership's, too, don't forget) was to bottom out and get high draft picks, hoping one of them would be that elusive superstar that every franchise wants. And bottom out they did. The Sixers record the last three years was 47-199. That's an average of 15.6 wins per season. That's bottoming out with gusto.
But it was the plan. The Sixers wanted to get high draft picks and collect assets so that they could either stumble onto a superstar or two through the draft, or trade for one with the high-value assets (draft picks and young players) they owned. Losing helped them do this. Not only did they collect those assets through their losing, they also participated in several trades that help them obtain picks or young players with team-friendly contracts.
Everyone agrees this is a sound strategy. So what went wrong?
First, the Sixers had bad luck. They didn't get Karl-Anthony Towns or D'Angelo Russell. They missed out on Andrew Wiggins and Jabari Parker. Sometimes the lottery balls just don't bounce your way and the great players are taken before it's your turn.
Second, Philadelphia missed on their own picks. They traded for rookie forward Nerlens Noel, whose ceiling is poor man's Tyson Chandler but more than likely is just going to be a decent rotation player. They drafted Michael Carter-Williams, who was rookie of the year, then promptly traded him to the Bucks for assets. The next year, they drafted center Joel Embiid and forward Dario Saric, neither of whom has played a minute in the NBA. Then, last year, the Sixers drafted forward Jahlil Okafor.
If you're keeping track, that's four front court players drafted in a league where the team with the best record every plays a 6'7" forward at center. I don't understand this part of the Process, because even in a traditional sense all four of those guys can't play together. Maybe Hinkie's plan involved a team with only one guard. I don't know. But so far, those picks have not worked out well for them.
Third, they failed to sign veteran players to help develop their young team. Hinkie's plan called for young players with team-friendly contracts. That meant veterans weren't needed. Veteran players are for teams trying to win. The Sixers wanted assets, not victories. This makes sense in theory. But realistically, those young players need older guys to teach them how to play, how to live the NBA lifestyle, and how to be professional. The Sixers haven't had those guys the last three years. In fact, they've done their best to make sure none of them were around, because the most important thing was assets until you get your superstars. This led to a losing culture and a team with bad habits. Coaches can do their job to the best of their ability, but they need veterans to pass on their message. Philadelphia didn't have strong, veteran voices to teach young players how to win and thrive in the NBA.
In the end, I don't think the problem in Philly was with Hinkie's plan. It was the execution of the plan. He wasn't trying to lose on purpose or game the system. He had a strategy that he developed based on the landscape of the NBA. It just didn't work. Part of it was his fault and part of it was just the luck that comes along with sports sometimes. I'm interested to see where he ends up, and where the Sixers go from here.
Monday, April 11, 2016
On Jason Kidd
I don't remember much basketball from the nineties, so my first memory of Jason Kidd is when he was leading the New Jersey Nets to back to back Finals appearances in the early part of this century. And mostly what I picture in my mind is him feeding Vince Carter alley oops and kickouts to Kerry Kittles and Keith Van Horn for wide open threes. I missed his first stint with the Mavericks and his time with the Suns.
I looked up his highlights on Youtube, though, and once I got past the bleached hair, I found a more athletic Jason Kidd than I remembered. But that isn't what caught my attention.
The main thing that stands out from when you watch Kidd in his early years and then in his prime in New Jersey is his relentless penetration of the paint. Whether by driving or pinpoint passes, Kidd got into the teeth of the defense, constantly pushing the ball closer and closer to the rim. Everyone remembers the no-look passes, but I think him racing the ball up the court and somehow making sure the ball got to the hoop was more impressive.
This was the time when everyone called him Ason Kidd, because he had no J. And they were right. Kidd couldn't shoot. But that makes what he did even more impressive. Despite the fact that opponents were sagging back, daring him to shoot, he was still use his athleticism and size to get to the hole. Kidd was a wizard when it came to attacking the paint, and that should be his defining legacy of the nineties.
We also shouldn't forget, however, that he shot about six hundred three pointers his first two seasons, despite hovering around only thirty percent from downtown. He shouldn't have been shooting that much. But hey, his hair was the color of mustard and there was no internet at the time, so we'll leave it alone.
Then came his time in New Jersey. This was peak Jason Kidd. He ran the break perfectly, He made guys like Richard Jefferson, Kerry Kittles, and Keith Van Horn look really good. Those guys made a lot of money because of Kidd.
His shooting improved, but barely. Mostly he got his point by doing what he did in Dallas and Phoenix--getting the ball into the paint by any means necessary. He got the Nets to the Finals two years in a row, and did it with a roster that is underwhelming when you look back at it. Don't get me wrong, those guys I mentioned above were good. But Kidd made them special, and they never got back to that level again once they weren't on his team.
What followed were some fun years with Vince Carter once he arrived from Toronto. But the Nets were never a serious contender, and after a few years, Kidd wanted out to chase a ring.
When the Dallas Mavericks acquired Kidd, I thought the trade was a wash. Dallas gave up some young assets, most notably Devin Harris, But Kidd could get the ball to Dirk Nowitzki in good positions and run a team efficiently. I didn't think Kidd would put the Mavericks over the top by himself, but he was a good piece to have.
Rick Carlisle and Kidd clashed at first. Carlisle is controlling on offense and hard on point guards. But eventually he learned to trust Kidd to run the offense, which was a smart move. Nowitzki is especially dangerous in transition, most notably on trailing three's.
Two things developed in Kidd's game in Dallas that made him a key piece to the Mav's championship run in 2011. First, he began shooting spot-up three's with accuracy. He could camp out at the wing or top of the arc and wait for a kick out off a drive or a double-team on Nowitzki. Teams couldn't ignore him and it caused defenses to stretch.
Second, Kidd began to leverage his strength to defend larger players, allowing the Mavs to switch more often. One of the images that stands out in my mind during the Finals that year was Kidd defending LeBron James and doing it well.
It was really fun to watch the transformation of Kidd from a run-and-gun point guard who made his living on the break to a deadly catch-and-shoot point guard who could defend any position one through four.
It didn't surprise me that Kidd went into coaching, not even when he was made a head coach in his first year of retirement. That chapter of his career has yet to be written, but if he approaches it with the versatility of his playing days, he'll do just fine.
I looked up his highlights on Youtube, though, and once I got past the bleached hair, I found a more athletic Jason Kidd than I remembered. But that isn't what caught my attention.
The main thing that stands out from when you watch Kidd in his early years and then in his prime in New Jersey is his relentless penetration of the paint. Whether by driving or pinpoint passes, Kidd got into the teeth of the defense, constantly pushing the ball closer and closer to the rim. Everyone remembers the no-look passes, but I think him racing the ball up the court and somehow making sure the ball got to the hoop was more impressive.
This was the time when everyone called him Ason Kidd, because he had no J. And they were right. Kidd couldn't shoot. But that makes what he did even more impressive. Despite the fact that opponents were sagging back, daring him to shoot, he was still use his athleticism and size to get to the hole. Kidd was a wizard when it came to attacking the paint, and that should be his defining legacy of the nineties.
We also shouldn't forget, however, that he shot about six hundred three pointers his first two seasons, despite hovering around only thirty percent from downtown. He shouldn't have been shooting that much. But hey, his hair was the color of mustard and there was no internet at the time, so we'll leave it alone.
Then came his time in New Jersey. This was peak Jason Kidd. He ran the break perfectly, He made guys like Richard Jefferson, Kerry Kittles, and Keith Van Horn look really good. Those guys made a lot of money because of Kidd.
His shooting improved, but barely. Mostly he got his point by doing what he did in Dallas and Phoenix--getting the ball into the paint by any means necessary. He got the Nets to the Finals two years in a row, and did it with a roster that is underwhelming when you look back at it. Don't get me wrong, those guys I mentioned above were good. But Kidd made them special, and they never got back to that level again once they weren't on his team.
What followed were some fun years with Vince Carter once he arrived from Toronto. But the Nets were never a serious contender, and after a few years, Kidd wanted out to chase a ring.
When the Dallas Mavericks acquired Kidd, I thought the trade was a wash. Dallas gave up some young assets, most notably Devin Harris, But Kidd could get the ball to Dirk Nowitzki in good positions and run a team efficiently. I didn't think Kidd would put the Mavericks over the top by himself, but he was a good piece to have.
Rick Carlisle and Kidd clashed at first. Carlisle is controlling on offense and hard on point guards. But eventually he learned to trust Kidd to run the offense, which was a smart move. Nowitzki is especially dangerous in transition, most notably on trailing three's.
Two things developed in Kidd's game in Dallas that made him a key piece to the Mav's championship run in 2011. First, he began shooting spot-up three's with accuracy. He could camp out at the wing or top of the arc and wait for a kick out off a drive or a double-team on Nowitzki. Teams couldn't ignore him and it caused defenses to stretch.
Second, Kidd began to leverage his strength to defend larger players, allowing the Mavs to switch more often. One of the images that stands out in my mind during the Finals that year was Kidd defending LeBron James and doing it well.
It was really fun to watch the transformation of Kidd from a run-and-gun point guard who made his living on the break to a deadly catch-and-shoot point guard who could defend any position one through four.
It didn't surprise me that Kidd went into coaching, not even when he was made a head coach in his first year of retirement. That chapter of his career has yet to be written, but if he approaches it with the versatility of his playing days, he'll do just fine.
Wednesday, February 17, 2016
All-Star Game
That wasn't the greatest All-Star weekend in NBA history, but it was one of the best in recent years. The celebrity game was a little weak, but the Rising Stars game was good. Karl-Anthony Towns winning the Skills Challenge was a little unexpected. The Steph Curry-Klay Thompson duel was fun to watch, and I'm not surprised that Thompson won. He had a serious look in his eye the whole time. He's been thinking about it for a while. I'm surprised JJ Reddick didn't do better.
Then there was the dunk contest. It wasn't better than MJ vs Dominique, or Vince Carter in 2000, but that was a show. Zach Lavine and Aaron Gordon made up for their lack of star power with heavy doses of creativity and athleticism. I think Lavine had an advantage because of winning the dunk contest last year.
The actual All-Star game was a little dry, but still entertaining. There were some fun plays, and Kobe Bryant played well for his last time. I enjoyed watching Russell Westbrook, because he goes so hard no matter the situation. It would have been fun to see the West get to 200, or for the game to be a little bit closer, but hey, you can't have everything.
The only complaint I have was the absence of Vince Carter. Whether it was his choice or lack of effort on the NBA's part, we didn't get enough of Vince. That was a mistake on someone's part. And Sting was a poor halftime show choice.
That's all guys.
Then there was the dunk contest. It wasn't better than MJ vs Dominique, or Vince Carter in 2000, but that was a show. Zach Lavine and Aaron Gordon made up for their lack of star power with heavy doses of creativity and athleticism. I think Lavine had an advantage because of winning the dunk contest last year.
The actual All-Star game was a little dry, but still entertaining. There were some fun plays, and Kobe Bryant played well for his last time. I enjoyed watching Russell Westbrook, because he goes so hard no matter the situation. It would have been fun to see the West get to 200, or for the game to be a little bit closer, but hey, you can't have everything.
The only complaint I have was the absence of Vince Carter. Whether it was his choice or lack of effort on the NBA's part, we didn't get enough of Vince. That was a mistake on someone's part. And Sting was a poor halftime show choice.
That's all guys.
Monday, November 23, 2015
Retro Recap: 1999 NBA Finals Game 5
I'm calling this article a Retro Recap. I stumbled across Game 5 of the 1999 NBA Finals on NBATV and a lot of thoughts came pouring out. So I thought I'd write them down for your entertainment. So lets just get started:
1st Quarter, 9:27. Latrell Sprewell just hit a shot and the camera goes in for a closeup. All I think about when I see Latrell are spinners and PJ Carlesimo with a bruised throat. It's easy to forget that Sprewell was a pretty good NBA player for a while.
9:12. Just caught a glimpse of Gregg Popovich and Jeff Van Gundy. Pop looks like he's fresh out of the Air Force and Van Gundy might have just given up on a real estate career. Also, why does Larry Johnson look like he was a long-haul trucker during the offseason?
7:05. I forgot that the Knicks were good at basketball once. This is a nice reminder.
5:55. Tim Duncan looks exactly the same as he does today in 2015. Maybe he's a little thinner here. But the moves are the same, the defense is the same. That same blank, robotic stare. There's something amazing about guys who seem to have another gear, who can do amazing things we've rarely seen in sports. I'm thinking Kobe Bryant, Michael Jordan. But there's something equally amazing about guys who are consistently great for more than a decade. I think that might be harder to do. And Duncan has been a basketball artist for as long as I can remember. That leaves me in awe of him.
2:55. Avery Johnson cracks me up. If you've never seen David Robinson's impression of Avery, you're missing out. I'd link to it, but I can't find the video anywhere, which seems almost impossible these days. But use your imagination and picture The Admiral mimicking an angry and animated Little General. Yeah, it's even better than that.
2nd Quarter, 9:07. I forgot about Malik Rose. I always liked his game.
8:22. I don't care for Bob Costas. That's all.
2:30. It's weird to watch San Antonio play this game. Their style has changed so much since 1999, which is to say that the style of play in the NBA has changed so much since 1999. And it's for the best. The product is a lot more entertaining today. Much credit has to be given to the NBA for recognizing that the pace of play had to increase and then making the correct rule changes to encourage a faster, smoother game. Also, kudos to Popovich and the Spurs for seeing the direction the NBA was heading and adjusting sooner than everyone else. They completely changed their offensive system, something that isn't easy to do.
0:45. The broadcast just mentioned that David Robinson once scored 70 points in a game. I think it's easy to forget how dominant Robinson could be at times. Maybe it's because he didn't win a ring until Duncan came along and the perception is that obviously he wasn't that good if he couldn't win a title on his own. The dude was a beast, though, and killed it on both ends.
3rd Quarter, 7:42. Allan Houston just hit a long two, and somewhere 27-year-old Daryl Morey just got dizzy and felt a pain in his side. I forgot what a good shooter Houston was, and it's fun to watch him swish shot after shot in this game while everyone else looks like they were drafted off of a rugby team.
5:49. Marcus Camby is everywhere in this game. It's too bad he didn't play in today's NBA. He would have been a nightmare defensively. Bill Simmons' Ewing Theory, has gained a lot of traction lately, but what's important to remember is how well Camby played in the 1999 playoffs. It's not surprising that the Knicks played better when they replaced an aging, immobile center with a young, athletic center. Camby made the 1999 Knicks a great defensive team.
1:19. Tim Duncan bank shot is good, because he's a machine.
4th Quarter, 11:58. It's the start of the fourth quarter, and the score is 59-58 in favor of San Antonio. I know I've already said it like three times, but the NBA is better now. No one wants to watch these muddled up scrums posing as basketball plays. It's why college basketball sucks. And if anyone tells you the NBA was better back in 1999, you have my permission to kick them in the shin twice.
10:47. Sprewell was really, really good for about five years. I forgot he was such a gifted scorer. I know I mentioned it at the beginning of this piece, but man, he's so tough to guard, inside and out. He's keeping New York in this game by himself. The lesson here, kids, is don't choke your head coach, because that's all you'll be remembered for one day.
7:47. Popovich gets plenty of praise, but it's not enough. The Knicks have started double-teaming Duncan on the block, and he's making the perfect pass out to guards who are then making the perfect pass to the wing who then make the perfect basketball decision. The narrative is always that Popovich selects the smartest players for his system, but maybe the narrative should be that Popovich selects players and then teaches them how to make the best basketball plays possible. I think the second one makes him a better coach.
6:30. Young Steve Kerr sighting as Sean Elliot sits with his fourth personal!
2:37. I think it's amazing that Duncan's free throw shooting has never been a big problem for the Spurs or a lingering story line. He's never been good at the line, but he's kept it just respectable enough to keep the media off his back. Plus he graduated from the Shaquille O'Neal school of "I make them when they count."
1:53. 77-76 New York. This game is an offensive cesspool of sadness.
0:47. Avery Johnson just hit a wide open long two from the near corner because Duncan made the perfect pass out of a double team to Sean Elliot, who kicked it over to the Little General before New York could reset. Because Spurs. 78-77 Spurs.
0:02. Van Gundy draws up a really good play. Sprewell fakes a screen at the top of the key and then dives to the hoop. Unfortunately he cuts too soon, and Elliot stays with him. Sprewell catches the inbound too deep and is stuck under the hoop. He's only able to shoot a desperation fade-away with Duncan and Elliot towering over him. Spurs win. But that's a genius play. If Sprewell waits half a second longer, Elliot comes off him to hedge on Allan Houston, and Sprewell gets a wide open layup to win the game.
This is one of the first Finals I remember clearly, and it's the beginning of the San Antonio dynasty that has changed the NBA over the last fifteen years. While it's not the most aesthetically pleasing basketball games to watch, it's interesting for its own reasons.
1st Quarter, 9:27. Latrell Sprewell just hit a shot and the camera goes in for a closeup. All I think about when I see Latrell are spinners and PJ Carlesimo with a bruised throat. It's easy to forget that Sprewell was a pretty good NBA player for a while.
9:12. Just caught a glimpse of Gregg Popovich and Jeff Van Gundy. Pop looks like he's fresh out of the Air Force and Van Gundy might have just given up on a real estate career. Also, why does Larry Johnson look like he was a long-haul trucker during the offseason?
7:05. I forgot that the Knicks were good at basketball once. This is a nice reminder.
5:55. Tim Duncan looks exactly the same as he does today in 2015. Maybe he's a little thinner here. But the moves are the same, the defense is the same. That same blank, robotic stare. There's something amazing about guys who seem to have another gear, who can do amazing things we've rarely seen in sports. I'm thinking Kobe Bryant, Michael Jordan. But there's something equally amazing about guys who are consistently great for more than a decade. I think that might be harder to do. And Duncan has been a basketball artist for as long as I can remember. That leaves me in awe of him.
2:55. Avery Johnson cracks me up. If you've never seen David Robinson's impression of Avery, you're missing out. I'd link to it, but I can't find the video anywhere, which seems almost impossible these days. But use your imagination and picture The Admiral mimicking an angry and animated Little General. Yeah, it's even better than that.
2nd Quarter, 9:07. I forgot about Malik Rose. I always liked his game.
8:22. I don't care for Bob Costas. That's all.
2:30. It's weird to watch San Antonio play this game. Their style has changed so much since 1999, which is to say that the style of play in the NBA has changed so much since 1999. And it's for the best. The product is a lot more entertaining today. Much credit has to be given to the NBA for recognizing that the pace of play had to increase and then making the correct rule changes to encourage a faster, smoother game. Also, kudos to Popovich and the Spurs for seeing the direction the NBA was heading and adjusting sooner than everyone else. They completely changed their offensive system, something that isn't easy to do.
0:45. The broadcast just mentioned that David Robinson once scored 70 points in a game. I think it's easy to forget how dominant Robinson could be at times. Maybe it's because he didn't win a ring until Duncan came along and the perception is that obviously he wasn't that good if he couldn't win a title on his own. The dude was a beast, though, and killed it on both ends.
3rd Quarter, 7:42. Allan Houston just hit a long two, and somewhere 27-year-old Daryl Morey just got dizzy and felt a pain in his side. I forgot what a good shooter Houston was, and it's fun to watch him swish shot after shot in this game while everyone else looks like they were drafted off of a rugby team.
5:49. Marcus Camby is everywhere in this game. It's too bad he didn't play in today's NBA. He would have been a nightmare defensively. Bill Simmons' Ewing Theory, has gained a lot of traction lately, but what's important to remember is how well Camby played in the 1999 playoffs. It's not surprising that the Knicks played better when they replaced an aging, immobile center with a young, athletic center. Camby made the 1999 Knicks a great defensive team.
1:19. Tim Duncan bank shot is good, because he's a machine.
4th Quarter, 11:58. It's the start of the fourth quarter, and the score is 59-58 in favor of San Antonio. I know I've already said it like three times, but the NBA is better now. No one wants to watch these muddled up scrums posing as basketball plays. It's why college basketball sucks. And if anyone tells you the NBA was better back in 1999, you have my permission to kick them in the shin twice.
10:47. Sprewell was really, really good for about five years. I forgot he was such a gifted scorer. I know I mentioned it at the beginning of this piece, but man, he's so tough to guard, inside and out. He's keeping New York in this game by himself. The lesson here, kids, is don't choke your head coach, because that's all you'll be remembered for one day.
7:47. Popovich gets plenty of praise, but it's not enough. The Knicks have started double-teaming Duncan on the block, and he's making the perfect pass out to guards who are then making the perfect pass to the wing who then make the perfect basketball decision. The narrative is always that Popovich selects the smartest players for his system, but maybe the narrative should be that Popovich selects players and then teaches them how to make the best basketball plays possible. I think the second one makes him a better coach.
6:30. Young Steve Kerr sighting as Sean Elliot sits with his fourth personal!
2:37. I think it's amazing that Duncan's free throw shooting has never been a big problem for the Spurs or a lingering story line. He's never been good at the line, but he's kept it just respectable enough to keep the media off his back. Plus he graduated from the Shaquille O'Neal school of "I make them when they count."
1:53. 77-76 New York. This game is an offensive cesspool of sadness.
0:47. Avery Johnson just hit a wide open long two from the near corner because Duncan made the perfect pass out of a double team to Sean Elliot, who kicked it over to the Little General before New York could reset. Because Spurs. 78-77 Spurs.
0:02. Van Gundy draws up a really good play. Sprewell fakes a screen at the top of the key and then dives to the hoop. Unfortunately he cuts too soon, and Elliot stays with him. Sprewell catches the inbound too deep and is stuck under the hoop. He's only able to shoot a desperation fade-away with Duncan and Elliot towering over him. Spurs win. But that's a genius play. If Sprewell waits half a second longer, Elliot comes off him to hedge on Allan Houston, and Sprewell gets a wide open layup to win the game.
This is one of the first Finals I remember clearly, and it's the beginning of the San Antonio dynasty that has changed the NBA over the last fifteen years. While it's not the most aesthetically pleasing basketball games to watch, it's interesting for its own reasons.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)