SB Nation User Blog: knickfan

Waaaay OT: NBA Team Identities: A Modest Proposal

knickfan — Wed, 30 Jul 2008 23:15:36 -0000

When pondering the whole Sonics/Oklahoma City debacle, one is hard-pressed to find any positive developments that have emerged as a result of that whole sordid mess. However, following weeks of tortuous cogitation, I was finally able to come up with one. The news that the City of Seattle was able to retain the rights to the Sonic name helps to further the precedent set by the City of Cleveland who prohibited Art Modell from taking the Browns’ name when he moved the team to Baltimore. This is a good thing. It sends a message to those greedy, carpet bagging owners that says “You may steal my team, but keep your filthy hands off our unique, regional identity.”

This further got me to wondering as to ways in which the league might redress those instances of team identity theft that predate the Cleveland precedent. More tortuous cogitation led me to formulate a few modest ideas that I’d like to share with you here.

Let’s start with the most egregious case of all: The Utah Jazz. Did I miss something here? When did the Mormon Tabernacle Choir start getting’ all jiggy with blue notes, modal improvisation and syncopated beats? No, this name can not - must not - stand. Accordingly, I hereby entreat league officials to mandate that Utah immediately trade the name back to its city of origin: New Orleans. Y’know, the land where jazz was born. In return, the New Orleans franchise will send the naming rights of its NBA franchise – the Hornets - to Utah, whose state nickname conveniently happens to be “The Beehive State.” Now, what could be more fitting than that?

That one was easy. Unfortunately, other instances don’t readily lend themselves to such a neatly packaged solution. But forge on we must. We’ll now consider the case of the Bedge’s most collectively detested team. Other than the Utah Jazz, is their any more inappropriately named NBA franchise than the L.A. Lakers? I mean, c’mon, L.A. scarcely has a drop of freshwater that it doesn’t steal from either Northern California or the Colorado River. Lakes? What lakes? Other than Veronica, this town has never had one of their own that I can think of.

Unfortunately, returning the name to its place of origin in Minneapolis may not prove so simple. Yeah, Minnesota’s got lakes. I’ve seen the license plate; they got like 100,000 – or is it 1,000 - or maybe it’s 10,000… hell, I can never remember. Anyway, they got lots of ‘em. So many that they probably don’t need one more. Especially not one that’s been polluted by all those years in L.A. I’m guessing the people of Minnesota will opt to pass and stick with their Timberwolves – more Lake Woebegone than Lake Show - but hey, at least they won’t be assuming responsibility for a Superfund site that’s been thoroughly contaminated with Kobalt Selfate. For the scientifically challenged, that’s a known carcinogen.

OK, we’ve determined that the Laker moniker shouldn’t remain in L.A. and it can’t go back to Minny, so where do we send it? How about to Milwaukee, a city which rests on the shores of one of America’s most polluted lakes already! And in exchange, the good people of Wisconsin can reciprocate by shipping the Bucks name to a city where the ostentatious display of wealth is regarded as one of the paramount virtues. It would also be an apt name for a franchise who’s never been averse to spending its way to success.

Finally, there is one more situation that is just crying to be addressed. This one concerns the team that once played its home games in Vancouver. No, not the place that Portlanders go to avoid paying Oregon taxes, but the one up in Canada. I’ve heard it’s pretty wild up there and there they still got savage beasts roaming around. Y’know, like the grizzly bears that their erstwhile pro hoops team was named after. But then that team moved to Tennessee where I think the most recent grizzly sighting occurred on the day that Daniel Boone shot the last one. So, yeah, the Memphis Grizzlies name? Gotta go.

I’m thinking a suitable destination would be Sacramento. Not exactly grizzly country either, but there is one on the State flag. That’s more than you’re ever gonna find in Memphis, chum. In exchange, Memphis gets to honor Elvis, perhaps their most famous native son, by renaming their hoop team with the appellation by which he was commonly known. The real problem here lies in persuading the Sactos to relinquish that Kings nickname. Given the growing acceptance of the “unitary executive” concept as well as the sitting governor’s somewhat autocratic tendencies, the California capital may be loath to part with a name that so neatly encapsulates the current zeitgeist. The league may just have to step in here and convince them that a name swap would be for the greater good. If that don’t work, David Stern can go all “unitary executive” on ‘em himself. In the end, I’m pretty sure the Governor would understand.

Well, I’ve prattled on long enough. There’s surely some Darius Miles news breaking somewhere that requires my immediate attention. But I just wanted to put these ideas out for your perusal and possible discussion. I am in the process of drafting an online petition on this matter that I will eventually be forwarding to the Commissioner’s Office. I hope that once you’ve read this, you will consider signing it.

Dariusgate probe widening?

knickfan — Sat, 26 Jul 2008 15:23:39 -0000

I haven't seen any reference to this story posted anywhere here yet. If I missed it, please accept my apologies and go ahead and delete forthwith. However, I feel it has important - albeit troubling - implications for the Blazer franchise and is therefore worthy of note.

Last week, in the comments section of Ben's post about Miles' suspension for the use of diet pills, I wrote about the disturbing ethical implications of Portland's possible complicity in how Miles' confidential medical information was leaked to the press. In my comment, I wrote:

If it does come out that the Blazers were the party responsible for leaking word of Miles’ suspension to the public-at-large, I’m afraid it would reflect extremely poorly on the team. Not only would they have violated Miles’ right to have his medical information kept private, but it would appear to have been done with the intent of deterring other teams from giving him a chance.

Now, according to the Trib's Dwight Jaynes, the Blazers may be subject to investigation for "violation of federal regulations in regard to public comments about the medical condition of former player Darius Miles." In this case, the "public comments" in question were not related to the details of Miles' substance abuse suspension. Rather, the concern appears to be that Pritchard may have been too free and easy in disclosing the particulars of Miles' knee injury to the press. Jaynes writes:

The problem for Pritchard and the Blazers is that those statements could be a violation of the privacy provisions of the Health Insurance Portability and Availability Act of 1996 (HIPAA). Since the HIPAA privacy rule went into effect on April 14, 2003, pro and college teams in all sports have been very reluctant to reveal specific details of player injuries without the permission of the player.

Why would the Blazers risk possible charges of violating federal law? Again, Jaynes:

Obviously, [the] incentive for the Blazers [is] to hope Miles never plays again. And perhaps an incentive for the team to be as negative as possible in describing Miles’ chances of ever playing again — thereby discouraging other teams from taking a chance on him.

I had speculated in my comments on Ben's post that this may indeed have been the Blazers' incentive for leaking news of Miles' substance abuse suspension. Obviously, I am not privy to high level discussions in the Blazers' front office so I have no idea if this is true or not. But whatever the motivations, this whole situation is beginning to stink to high heaven. It seems that at the very least, the team may be guilty of a HIPAA violation, no trivial matter. And, at the worst, the team might also be guilty of employing underhanded tactics to hinder a player from pursuing his career on another team.

Flame away...

Grumblings from Lakerland

knickfan — Sat, 12 Jul 2008 20:01:30 -0000

In a thread over at Forum Blue and Gold, commenters wound up enaging in a rather, um, spirited discussion over the Blazers' prospects in the Western Conference this year.

The discussion was kicked off by one commenter (who was subsequently accused of being a closet Blazer fan) who offered his predictions for the Western Conference. In his analysis he had Portland and LA battling it out for supremacy in the West, with the Lakers ultimately edging out the Blazers for the #1 spot.

Naturally, this produced a firestorm of objection from the assorted multitude. One such poster called the Blazers a "fragile" team:

They’ve been rumored to have tried to trade away both of their SFs-and they know Batum is yrs away from being ready. Having key players on a young team oppenly regarded as trade bait worked out well for the Bulls last yr,didn’t it?
They’re not satisfied w/their PG and traded away the back-up the coach trusted. Their Euro PG,Rodriguez,whined last yr about playing time,and right now he looks like the fourth PG. Only now his unhappiness will have a sympathetic ear in Fernandez,who has said he might go back to Europe if he doesn’t get playing time! Throw in Rodriguez is a fan fav while the coach doesn’t trust his game at all.

He then goes on to characterize some of the teams' personnel dealings (i.e. the leak of Miles' suspension) as "slightly sleazy" which might potentially result in player/front office friction.

For you Blazer fans, an interesting read, to be sure. If not exactly an accurate summation of Portland's state of affairs, it's does provide a window into Lakerfan's somewhat restless turn of mind vis a vis your team.

Musings on the Knick game + more point guard blather

knickfan — Sun, 09 Mar 2008 22:33:05 -0000

First, a few of my thoughts on last night's game.

Despite the unfortunate outcome, I found it tremendously entertaining viewing. And, much as I loathe Isiah, his unquestioned gift for unearthing below-the-radar talent has given the Knicks some exciting young players. Lee, Robinson, Balkman, Chandler all show tremendous promise and hint at a bright future ahead. In his game recap Dave asks Knick fans if we "would prefer to field this lineup for the short term rather than the bloated, overpaid, selfish, directionless mess they started the season with." My answer is a resounding, shout-it-from-the-rooftops "YES." Problem, of course, is that we first need to find someplace to dump Zach, Eddy, Stephon, and Jamal whose absurd mega-contracts all but command that they play mega-minutes. And the only real dumping ground for those contracts in today's NBA is directly upstairs from the Madison Square Garden hardwood in the executive suites of Two Penn Plaza.

Ah, but no need for me to belabor Isiah's shortcomings as GM. Especially not when last night's loss - still fresh in my mind - offers an opportunity to harp upon his shortcomings as a coach. Not that they're really disconnected, mind you. When you're responsible for assembling a roster made up almost exclusively of selfish, one-on-one, no-defense chuckers it pretty much obviates the need for any kind of real coaching. And, boy oh boy, was that utter lack of a disciplined approach ever evident against the Blazers on Saturday night: a stingy 15 assists on 43 made buckets (only two players - Nate and Q-Rich- even had more than one); ghostlike - hell, Caspar the Friendly Ghostlike - defense (why the Blazers did not try and exploit this more is a conundrum); bizarre personnel decisions (why did rookie center Randolph Morris get a DNP? Certainly he could not have been that much of a drop-off in talent from the likes of Re-lik Rose and may have given NY some much needed bulk in the paint)

For all intents and purpose, the Knick strategy pretty much boiled down to "Let Nate Robinson do his thaang." And it nearly worked until late in OT when Nate finally ran out of gas. When that happened, Isiah pretty much had to concede the ballgame. Bereft of any notion on how to deploy the rest of his talent, he simply chose to throw in the towel and let the clock run down with about a minute left in the extra frame. Pathetic.

But the upside of New York's complete and utter lack of a coherent game plan was that it afforded fans the chance to witness a truly dazzling display of individual basketball by Nate Robinson. And although Isiah's over-reliance on him ultimately proved suicidal, Nate's performance was downright electrifying. So much so that I fully expected to log on to Blazers Edge this morning and find his name added to the wish list of point guards that y'all would like to see Pritchard go after.

Yet, with the exception of a few stray comments here and there, I found nothing of the sort (not that I would want to see him leave the Knicks) But watching him yuk it up with Roy, Webster & McMillan after the game suggests that there is a genuine chemistry among the members of the "Seattle Mafia" - one that would translate well to the banks of the Willamette. Nate is still on his rookie contract. And, he has a similar skill set to another spendier PG who's been much salivated over on this site, Devin Harris.

Right now Harris strikes me as Tony Parker-lite: a lightning quick, shoot first PG who scores most of his points in the paint but whose passing skills and shooting range are still average at best. Maybe one day he'll justify the 5-year, $42 million contract that Mark Cuban gave him but at this point in his career it seems a tad overpriced. It's certainly not as reasonable as the contract awarded to another similarly styled player, Leandro Barbosa, who in 2006 signed for five years, $33 million. But if that's the kind of PG you'd like the Blazers to pursue, I'd think that Nate Robinson - who pretty much has the same skills and an established rapport with Brandon Roy and a rookie contract to boot - would represent the most attractive option.

But is that really the kind of PG that you want for the Blazers? While much of the PG discussion on this site has been focused on who Portland should target, I think the more relevant question is what kind of point guard do you think would work best for this team? Is it the Parker/Harris/Robinson type? Or is the classic, pass-first Stockton/Nash/Paul variety what your team really needs?

Ordinarily, this is a no-brainer for me. Under normal circumstances, I'd go with the pass-first playmaker every time. But adding Brandon Roy to the equation certainly muddies the question. Roy has often been touted as the Blazers' true PG - someone who needs to initiate the offense to be at his most effective. Many here have wondered what the impact on Brandon's game would be were Portland to introduce an honest-to-goodness, old school PG into the mix. Some have cited Roy's All-Star game as proof that he can happily co-exist with the likes of a Chris Paul. But - as Dave has sagely pointed out - performances in the All Star Game are indicative of precisely nothing.

Although I'm not really a stat geek, perhaps numbers might be instructive in this instance. John Hollinger has developed a nifty little algorithm that he terms pure point rating (PPR). Basically, it's a more refined version of the assist/turnover ratio which can be used to quickly identify those players whose game fits within the classic, pass-first PG mode. A glance at the current league leaders in PPR show some familiar names topping the list:

Player        PPR
Chris Paul    12.8
José Calderón    12.8
Steve Nash 10.7
Jason Kidd     9.0
Deron Williams 8.9
T.J. Ford    8.8
Chauncey Billups 8.5

Working your way down the list, you can see that Brandon Roy has a PPR of 5.2 - which is behind Steve Blake's 6.4. However, Roy's PPR is also well ahead of Devin Harris' 3.6, whose rating resides in the neighborhood of such PGs as Allen Iverson (4.0), Tony Parker (3.9), Mike Bibby (3.6), and Stephon Marbury (3.4). (For the record, Jarrett Jack's current PPR is 0.8; Sergio's is 3.4)

So if you accept these numbers as kind of a rough measure of true PG ability, you can argue that (1) the Blazers should move heaven, earth, and Paul Allen's bankroll to bring Calderón on board because (2) Roy has a ways to go before he can realistically be expected to run the point as well as a Calderón or any of the NBA's other top playmaking PGs. However, if you consider these numbers suspect or otherwise feel that the Blazers don't really need a PG in the classical mold, you might contend that what Brandon brings is plenty good enough and that a scoring PG of the Harris/Robinson ilk would make the perfect complement to him in Portland's backcourt.

What of it, Blazerfan? I've e-prattled on long enough. I'm curious to hear what type of PG you think would best serve the Blazers in their pursuit of an NBA title once Oden and possibly Rudy have been added to the mix.

Poll

What kind of point guard would best suit the Blazers?

A classic pass-first PG in the vein of Steve Nash or Chris Paul.

68 votes

A fleet-footed, scoring PG like Allen Iverson or Tony Parker.

16 votes

The team's current crop of PGs is good enough, thank you very much.

5 votes

89 votes | Poll has closed

My adventures at last night's game

knickfan — Sun, 03 Feb 2008 00:17:03 -0000

Sometimes in the life of a fan, there comes a moment when one's devotion to a team must move beyond the simple accounting of wins and losses. We become faced with the recognition of a higher calling, as it were. Those who heed this calling will then embark on an almost spiritual quest that we are compelled to undertake in order to help the team achieve the everpresent dream of perfection.

This is the story of one such moment.

Inspired by timbo's suggestion, I had determined to embrace the noble, albeit quixotic, vision of leading a packed Rose Garden into the first ever chant of "Fire Isiah" at an arena outside of New York.

It would be the perfect setup. With ESPN on hand to broadcast the game to a national audience, the chant would undoubtedly spark similar outbursts at other arenas throughout the Association. Before long, it would grow into such a vociferous national phenomenon, that even the leaden-headed owner of the Knicks, James Dolan, would no longer be able to shrug off the continuing embarrassment that is the Isiah Thomas regime.

There was, however, one slight impediment.

I didn't have tickets to the game.

In years past, whenever the New Yorkers rolled into town, I simply sauntered up to the gate 15 minutes or so before tipoff and scored ducats, real easy-like. But it wasn't until about a week or so ago that I began to seriously consider the possibility that "Z-Bo Returns" might actually be a more boffo box office draw than the new Rambo flick or the Knick appearances of years past. Panicked, I phoned a Blazerfan buddy of mine who was headed out to last Sunday's Hawk game. I begged him to please, please, please score some ingress to the Knick game while he was there. That night, he phoned to report that the box office folk had basically told him "No room at the inn dere, boy-o" in reply to his inquiries about the Knick contest. But not to worry, saith good friend. There was this guy at work, who knew a guy, who knew a guy who works for the Blazers. My friend would ask to see what could be done. On Monday, Blazerfan buddy called back and said "the guy" had indeed come through. There'd be three tickets waiting for my friend, myself and another Blazerfan chum at Will Call, vouchsafed to us with the understanding that the seats were "pretty high up there."

Ingress secured, next comes "the plan." My buddies and I had agreed to meet at Rock Bottom Brewery at 2nd and Morrison downtown after work. There I reveal my vision and make the pitch to enlist them in my efforts. Their initial skepticism is slowly dissolved by the persuasive powers of Rock Bottom's fine Gambrinian product. By the time we leave the pub, at minutes after 7:00 pm, they are more than willing converts to the cause. Confident now of the imminent success of my intrigues, we head over to the Max station at 2nd and Yamhill to await transport to the arena.

A large crowd is already gathered at the stop. We fall in next to some guys in Blazer gear who are engaged in a rather spirited critique of the managerial deficiencies of the current occupant of the White House. Sensing an opportunity to recruit even more converts to the cause, I wait for my opening and then chime in:

"Yeah. George Bush is kinda like the Isiah Thomas of world leaders. Everything he touches turns to Shiite."

Now: Time to make my case to these prospective recru-

BOOOMMM

"Good God, what was that?" I hear being exclaimed at various points throughout the crowd, which is now gravitating amoeba-like toward the source of the ground-shaking noise.

"Holy Christ! The Max train just hit a bus!" I hear someone yell and - yes - there it is, the Mighty Max, derailed, as seen wit' me own eyes. Confused, looking around now, nobody really sure what to do, I glance at my watch - 10 minutes past 7 - and then it hits me: how are we going to get to the game? All of my beautiful plans, suddenly in jeopardy.

A steely determination takes hold and sends me walking in the direction of -- the Steel Bridge. "Where you going?" yelp my buddies. But I've already got a full head of steam, along with many of the other Blazer faithful who are also filing away from the Yamhill stop. Before long, we reach the stop at 1st and Oak, crowded with Blazer hats and jackets waiting for a train that will never come. "Better start walking," someone from our group says, "The Max just hit a bus." Momentary confusion before several more peel off and join what is now a full-fledged pilgrimage. More join in at the Skidmore Fountain and Old Town stations until it is now something akin to a small army that approaches the Steel Bridge.

Then it hits me: What better time to begin my crusade but now, while at the head of a march whose cadence would make the perfect accompaniment to a chant of "FI-YER I-SAY-YAH, FI-YER I-SAY-YAH." And so I begin. I am soon joined by my two friends in throaty enthusiasm. We've not yet reached full throttle when a kindly-faced, white haired gent looks at us quizzically and says:

"Isaiah Rider? But he's not with the team anymore!"

Hmmmm, this could prove more challenging than I thought. But after a brief pause, the three of us are at it again, and are even joined by one or two amused marchers nearby. We begin climbing the ramp to the Steel Bridge: "FI-YER I-SAY-YAH! FI-YER I-SAY-YAH!" A voice behind me is heard to remark: "This is so cool; all these people - the chanting - reminds me of the day I marched across this bridge to protest the Iraq War." I feel like I'm at the vanguard of a similarly righteous cause: "FI-YER I-SAY-YAH! FI-YER I-SAY-YAH!"

We reach the Rose Garden and find our way to the Will Call window. We pick up our ducats and finally pass through the turnstiles with the game already underway. We enter the building, only to be greeted by a cascade of Boos. We're briefly disoriented by this discordant opening note until we hear Mark Mason intone "Zach Randolph." We ascend the escalator to the 300 level. Emerging into the din of the arena, I'm thinking that hey - this here vantage point's not so bad as all that. I glance at my ticket stub: Row R. I look over at the nearest seat: Row F. We're climbing now... row K... L... M... and climbing some more... row P... Q... and then... we can't go anymore. We're at the uppermost row of seats in the Rose Garden, behind one of the baskets.

For the first time I glance down at the action on the floor. It was like watching a game of Parcheesi while looking through the wrong end of a pair of binoculars; the giant statures of NBA participants writ small. Very, very small. But I was undaunted. For tonight was not just about the game, but about something larger; something much more important. In fact, I was now ideally positioned to - as timbo had suggested - "rock the rafters" with my chant being that I was, well, actually sitting in the rafters.

So, at the earliest moment at which the crowd noise and the canned Rose Garden foofaraw subsides to a reasonable level, my friends and I begin:

"FI-YER I-SAY-YAH! FI-YER I-SAY-YAH!"

A few quizzical looks shoot our way, but - alas - no one else is inspired to take up the chant. One of my buddies consolingly tells me that Blazer fans are notoriously uncaring when it comes to teams other than their own: "They couldn't even appreciate the greatness of Michael Jordan because he wore the wrong red and black uniform." Grimly, I press on: "FI-YER I-SAY-YAH! FI-YER I-SAY-YAH!"

But wait: something's happening down on the floor. The Knicks have opened up an eight point lead. McMillan is forced to spend a timeout. The noise of the crowd has been reduced to a nervous mumur. I seize the moment: "FI-YER I-SAY-YAH! FI-YER I-SAY-YAH!"

"Uh, dude," a man seated in front of me says, "Your team is winning. No one's getting fired. At least not right now." Clearly, the sympathies of the crowd are not with me at this time. I lapse into silence and begin taking stock of the matchbox figures on the court. My boy, David Lee is an absolute beast; seemingly appearing out of nowhere to wrest any missed shot away from any Blazer in its immediate vicinity. Nate "Stephon Who?" Robinson is doing a nice job running the point, and is actually outplaying his former Husky teammate and current All-Star darling, Brandon Roy. Much of Roy's frustration is due to Renaldo Balkman's harassing and disruptive defense. And Zach? Well Zach is being Zach: frustrating Portlanders on the court and in the stands with his dazzling repertoire of post moves and improbable jumpers. New York by 11 at the half: My God... the Knicks could actually win this game!

In the second half, New York stretches its lead to 15 before the Blazers begin their run. Steve Blake starts heating up, Brandon finally awakes. As things begin to slip away for my boys, my sense of purpose returns: "FI-YER I-SAY-YAH! FI-YER I-SAY-YAH!" I'm doubling my efforts now, yelling even louder than before. My two friends half-heartedly join in, their nervousness over a possible Blazers loss preventing them from much enthusiasm for my mission. But I don't need `em; I'm cooking on all burners now: "FI-YER I-SAY-YAH! FI-YER I-SAY-YAH!" The Knicks call time-out and a young man approaches from below, can't be more than 15 or 16 years old, reaches out to shake my hand "Just want you to know that I don't like Isiah either," says he. "Well, help me out, bro," I implore. "FI-YER I-SAY-YAH! FI-YER I-SAY-YAH!"

With about three minutes left in the fourth; Knicks up by five. As the tension of the game takes hold, I once again forget the real reason I have come tonight. I feel my throat tighten. Jarrett Jack is once again confounding his legion of haters by taking it to the hole with authority. Less than a minute in regulation, Knicks up by two, Blazer ball. Roy hoists up an easy jumper that misses badly. My role as righteous crusader is now gone, replaced by that of the obnoxious visiting fan.

"Where's your All Star now, Portland? Huh? Huh? All Star? Yeah; Wotta joke!! HAAAA!"

But on the ensuing possession, the Knicks fail to make it a two score lead and Portland gets the ball back with 17 seconds. Coming out of the timeout, I'm laughing, taunting & mocking the fans in my section, most of whom are apparently dubious of the prospect of another last minute miracle by their team. When Travis gets the ball just inside the three point line and fades back for what looks to be an awkward shot, I smile, knowing that the magic has finally deserted the Bla-

The roar hits me like a punch in the gut. I slump into my seat, stunned. All around me people are standing, high-fiving, exultant. I slump even lower in my seat and then - I hear it:

"FI-YER I-SAY-YAH! FI-YER I-SAY-YAH! "FI-YER I-SAY-YAH! FI-YER I-SAY-YAH!"

I look up. It's pretty much everyone in the section. They're chanting it. Without me. They're mocking me, of course, but I realize that it also represents a triumph of sorts. So what else could I do?

I stood up and I joined them.

More schadenfreude from Gotham

knickfan — Sun, 27 Jan 2008 05:42:23 -0000

Because I know that you, my good friends here at Blazer's Edge, can never get your fill of schadenfreude where a certain auld acquaintance of yourn is concerned, I direct you to peruse this latest offering authored by one of my long-suffering brethren at knickerblogger.net.

It's entitled The Poison of 20 and 10.

Bet you'll never, ever guess who they're referring to.

Jarrett Jack

knickfan — Wed, 16 Jan 2008 07:25:20 -0000

He's a 6'3, 200 pound point guard. His total NBA career has encompassed about 200 games or so thus far. Despite a distinguished college career which included strong performances in the NCAA tournament, by his third professional season, he's widely regarded as a bust.

His name frequently surfaces in trade rumors, eagerly repeated by many of the team's fans who'd like nothing more than to see him on the next plane out of town.

By his fourth year in the league, he will have been traded - three times, in fact. He's then on his fourth team and there is no longer any doubt - his pro career has been a colossal disappointment. In that fourth season, he'll appear in 77 games, averaging 23 minutes along with 9.3 pts, 2.1 rebounds, 3.4 assists, 1.4 turnovers, 0.7 steals, 42.3 FG%, 84.2 FT%, 37.6 3pt%.

That player's name?

Chauncey Billups.

Well, we all know how that story turned out. And - for all we know now - we could easily be watching a rerun here in Portland. Judging by the dozens of comments I read on this very blog whenever I check in, I doubt there is a single Blazer player more universally reviled by the faithful than Jarrett Jack. Yet, ever since he came into the league, he has reminded me of Billups. Perhaps it's the fact that they are both 6'3, 200 pound point guards with shaven pates. Maybe that's why tonight I decided to compare the two players at similar points in their respective careers.

At this point, Jack has played in 195 NBA games - all, of course, with the Portland Trail Blazers over two and a half seasons. Billups didn't play in his 195th game until his fourth season. By that time he had already bounced from Boston to Toronto to Denver to Minnesota. As noted above, he played 77 games with the T'Wolves that year, 2000-01. Jack has played in 37 with the Blazers thus far this year. Let's check out Billups 2000-01 averages alongside Jack's so far this year:

Player    Min Pts Reb Ast TO Stls FG% FT% 3pt%
Billups    23 9.3 2.1 3.4 1.4 0.7 42.3 84.2 37.6
Jack    27 9.7 2.8 3.7 2.3 0.7 42.2 84.8    36.0

Pretty eerie, huh?

Now, I'm not offering this up as "proof" that Jack will eventually turn out to be as good a player as Billups (although it certainly remains a possibility) I offer it instead as yet another cautionary tale warning against the pitfalls of jumping to hasty conclusions about the talent level of young, developing players (especially point guards, probably the toughest position to master) I'm fairly certain that at some point, Boston, Toronto, Denver and Minnesota all felt a twinge of regret on having so quickly given up on a player of Billups' caliber. Elite point guards don't usually descend, fully formed, from on high. Especially not 6'3, 200 pound ones who possess the kind of physical advantage that enables them to overpower many of their smaller counterparts around the league.

So relax, y'all and cut the kid some slack.

End of sermon.

Is it merely a typo?

knickfan — Tue, 01 Jan 2008 23:17:38 -0000

Or is it more evidence of the scant respect accorded the Blazers by national media types who feel it's really not worth the effort to actually, like, get the players' names right?

Or, is it just another opportunity for a sportswriter to offer up yet one more cheap crack about Greg Oden's somewhat, ummm, "mature" appearance?

You be the judge. Check out Kenny Smith's New Year's NBA Resolutions and scroll down to his entry for Portland.

Hope all of you have a very happy, healthy 2008 (during which the Knicks will meet up with the Blazers at least three times: on Feb 1 at the Rose Garden; on Mar 8 at Madison Square Garden - and in late spring at the NBA-TV studios in Secaucus, New Jersey!)

Brian Wheeler

knickfan — Sun, 30 Dec 2007 10:11:01 -0000

The current resurgence of interest in the Blazers, along with their limited regional TV access, has driven many fans to follow the games on the team's local radio affiliate, KXL. As a result, there are probably a lot of folks who are now listening to Blazers' radio broadcasts much more than they have in the past. This has certainly been true in my case. Throughout the streak, my interest in the Blazers has reached a point where I want to follow each game in real time. And so - since I am not a Comcast subscriber - I have come to grow quite familiar with the work of play-by-play man, Brian Wheeler. Unfortunately, as the saying goes, familiarity breeds contempt...

Now, I'm aware that many people believe radio is a format inherently ill-suited to basketball. I don't agree. Having grown up in the pre-cable era, I came of age listening to Knicks' games on the radio, announced by the great Marv Albert. In my life I've also had the good fortune to listen to many radio games called by Chick Hearn, who I think is the best hoop play-by-play man I've ever heard. So I know full well the extent to which a skilled play-by-play man is able to set the stage within the listener's "theatre of the mind."

Granted, today's media world is not exactly the ideal milieu in which a play-by-play man can develop the skills of a Hearn or an Albert. In a media environment dominated by TV, play by play has come to be regarded as an adjunct to the televised action. Many of today's radio guys have worked as TV men, or maybe learned their craft on the TV side, so they never really had to learn how to paint a complete verbal picture of the action unfolding on the court. So it's probably unreasonable to hold someone like a Brian Wheeler to the standards of a Marv Albert or a Chick Hearn.

Nevertheless, Wheeler has really started to work my nerves lately. He's managed to transform the telling of a most interesting story - young, developing ballclub in the midst of an improbable winning streak - into a frequently grating listening experience. The frustrating part is that when it comes to actually describing the action, Wheeler does a fairly competent job. However, his inability to rein in some of the excesses of his personality often mars what should otherwise be an enjoyable broadcast.

The first thing I'd love to see go is his outlandish homerism. I realize that every play-by-play man who travels and works with a team over a period of time develops a rooting interest which unavoidably gets revealed throughout the course of a broadcast. It's just that the real pros manage to keep it in check. Wheeler apparently makes no such effort. Perhaps it's not as noticeable to you Blazer fans, as Wheeler's emotional highs and lows probably closely mirror your own. But to a non-fan, it just gets in the way of the story he's trying to tell. His ejaculatory whoops of glee when Portland hits a big shot; or his voice tailing off and dropping an half an octave when the opponent does likewise are an unwelcome distraction. They consistently draw the listener's attention to Wheeler's ongoing pageant of ecstasy and despair and away from the narrative flow of the game.

I also wish Wheeler would cut waaay down on his over-reliance on silly catch-phrases. The peppering of Blazer broadcasts with his boom-shaka-lakas, and his [insert coach name] is mystified, mortified, mesmerized seem overly contrived, intended more to establish a "trademark" for the Wheeler "brand" than to embellish the action in any integrated, meaningful way. Contrast his catch-phrases with ones such as Hearn's beautiful, near-poetic, "put him in the popcorn machine" used to depict a defender faked into the air. That was both clever and descriptive, flowing seamlessly within the game's narrative context. Or - on a much simpler level - Albert's signature "Yesssssssssss - and it counts!" That drawn out "yes" seemed to aurally suggest the sound of ball swishing through net and ultimately served to enhance - rather than detract - from the mental picture being created.

Perhaps over the last few years, when the team was in the doldrums and its games were rather tepid, moribund affairs, Wheeler's antics may have helped to enliven a dull broadcast. But now that the team has emerged as one of the most compelling storylines in the whole NBA, Wheeler needs to recognize that people are tuning into to hear a Blazer basketball game and not "The Brian Wheeler Show." As I noted earlier, he has the skill to adequately describe the action on the floor. The way the team is playing, that is more than enough. He just needs to get out of the way, so we radio listeners can enjoy it.

The Honeymoon is Over!

knickfan — Sun, 02 Dec 2007 07:24:08 -0000

Here in Blazerland, it seems the jury has returned and returned its unanimous verdict on Portland's blockuster trade of Draft Day '07:

When judged purely from the standpoint of talent (and NOT its salary cap implications) the trade of Zach Randolph for Channing Frye has been nothing short of an unmitigated disaster for the Blazers.

Now that Frye finds himself buried at the end of Portland's bench, with two consecutive DNP-CDs following a series of disspirited, mistake-prone outings, many a Blazer fan is wondering:

"Shouldn't KP have gotten something more for a bona-fide 20-10 player than this?"

Yes, Frye's play has been stunningly awful thus far. And, no - his subpar sophomore year notwithstanding - I don't think anyone could have realistically anticipated just how gawdawful it would be. In fact, shortly after the trade, I posted a diary proclaiming my belief that Frye was a very nice pickup for the Blazers.

Oh well; at least I can console myself with the knowledge that my evaluation of Frye's talent wasn't all that far off from Pritchard's.

Meanwhile, 3,000 miles to the east, Zach has picked up where he left off in Portland, averaging a very respectable 17.9 pts & 11.3 boards per game. Surely, Knick fans must still be doing cartwheels over the deal that allowed Z-Bo to prowl the floors of both Madison Square Garden and many of Gotham's finer gentlemen's clubs on a regular basis.

Umm, not so fast. It seems that despite his gaudy numbers, many of my fellow Knick fans apparently already have the same low regard for Randolph that the denizens of this site have developed for Frye. Just check out this comment thread on my favorite Knicks blog, Knickerblogger.net

Written shortly after the 50-point massacre at the hands of the Hated C*lt*cs (we Knickfans equivalent of the L*k*rs), most of the comments are predictably dripping with contempt for the team in general - and for Zach in particular.

Here are some of the highlights:

Top priority needs to be trading Randolph, so we can have cap (or trade) flexibility in the summer of 2010. The ridiculously self-proclaimed "Starbury," Curry, and Randolph are literally worthless inasmuch as the Knicks couldn't give them away for anything other than the required salaries back. Pawn off Randolph on anybody who will take him. "Pawn off Randolph on anybody who will take him."

We were the "anybody who will take him."

In short, my brethren back in NY have quickly come to the same conclusion that many of you here in Portland had reached one or two years ago. Namely, those 20 point and 10 rebound averages by Zach are nice but - they also come at the expense of offensive fluidity, salary cap flexibility and strip club security.

So count your blessings, Blazerfan. Consider this my belated Thanksgiving gift to all of you here at Blazer's Edge.