Showing posts with label Lakers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lakers. Show all posts

Sunday, May 08, 2011

Purple Pain: Mavs Sweep, End of an Era

Even a billion douches can't keep him from believing it, either.
After losing the third game in their second round playoff series versus the Mavs, I penned a letter to my Laker friends. And yes, I call the Lakers the "Lakes" - it's an old habit, so buy an rpg and shoot me.


With today's slaughter, the "Mother's Day Massacre" which saw the Lakes meltdown like our economy, the public rape and torture is at least over. The Mavs were unstoppable, and everything I said about game 3 applies in spades.


Now that Phil's gone, it may be time to bring in Coop to lead them. Here's a guy who has the champion and Lakes pedigree, played with the greatest floor general the game will ever see who happens to be an owner and vp, and obviously has expressed interest with his coaching stint in the WNBA.


And then there's the sad spectacle of Pau's meltdown. Pau, as talented a big in the league, was just sad to watch. LakerNation's David brickley put it into perspective:
Gasol’s struggles are mental; there is no other way to explain it. After he fails at something on the court Pau shrugs his shoulders, hangs his head, and complains to the refs.He is not performing at even close to what he is capable of when the Lakers need him, and it seems as if he doesn’t even care.Or at least comes off like he doesn’t have the answers to fix his issues.He gets paid 17.8 million dollars per year to be the Robin to Kobe Bryant’s Batman.The Lakers traded a player away for Gasol that Laker fans couldn’t stand, and what many call the biggest draft bust in history, Kwame Brown.Kwame Brown in the 2006 playoffs with the Lakers averaged 13 points per game, while shooting 53% from the field, and pulling down 7 rebounds per game.Pau Gasol in the 2011 playoffs with the Lakers is averaging 13 points per game, while shooting 42% from the field, and pulling down 7.8 rebounds per game.Look familiar?
$17.8 mil is a ton of meltdown money. It really is sad. Kinda weird, too.


Let this series be a harsh reminder that while the Lakes were loaded with talent -- much more so than the Mavs -- they were completely dominated and swept. It is one of the most stunning upsets in sports ever. And for that, give credit of course to Nowitski, Terry, Barea (super off the bench), and Rick Carlisle, who outcoached Phil at every turn of the road. Oh, and old man Jason Kidd.


=================================


From May 7, 2011 after the game 3 loss.


Dear Chicky Baby Fan Club,


The hated Celtics in their game 3 with Miami today did what I had hoped the Lakes would do Friday in theirs; they got attitude. That may sound like mumbo jumbo to those of you who know me; that when it comes to sports, it should be about strategy, tactics and techniques. But psychology is arguably the bigger part of sports, and in this area, I think the Lakes have just burned out. Not even Phil thumping Pau's chest can revive this patient. So, to drown my sorrows I'm going to torture y'all with my breakdowns of why -- in my boy MM's words -- the party's ova for the Lakes.

One thing first; Imo, the series at worst should be 2-1 Mavs. In fact, I think all three games have very key correctable reasons -- different in each game but related in one overall aspect. Here we go....

GAME 1
The Mavs were down by 16 in the third. The first game thus set an ominous tone, but I think the very last play said a lot about why we're now down by 3, and it's this; WHY when you have to score, would you go for a 3??? I don't care if it's Yoda shooting with the aid of The Force, Kobe shot a 25 footer - at best a 45% proposition. And, if I remember correctly, it wasn't a clear shot, and I believe he was falling away, thus compounding the degree of difficulty.

Percentage basketball says; work for a good percentage shot, or at least (some would say this would be option 1), drive and increase your odds of getting to the foul line.

The Lakes instead made the worst choice that makes the least sense (Phil and staff are sounding like our government, right?). That's a basic, fundamental tactical mistake - a big one, at a big time in a big game.

GAME 2
The Lakes have never been a distance shooting team. There have been anomalies -- Coop in the day could hoist. Zeke from Cabin Creek could gun (in one of the most remarkable achievements ever, he averaged 43 through a playoff series)Despite history and Chicky Baby rolling his eyes from the grave, the Lakes continued their assault on the "worst distance shooting in a playoff game" record. At one point I think Mike Breen said they were 2 for 20 when yet another 3 was launched.

My head couldn't explode anymore because the damage had been done way before.

Yet again, another violation of basic strategy which says; if something isn't working, you must change, shift gears.

GAME 3
Obviously this was a disaster, but in a game that will rank in Purp & Gold infamy, when everyone else was out of it, Shannon Brown came off the bench and gave the Lake body on the gurney a desperately needed transfusion, much like Coop in the day did. I've long been a fan of this kid, and believe he should have been developed better. So anyway, what does Phil do after this kid puts on a terrific show?

He takes him out.

And the Lakes corpse -- once again -- reverts back to dying on the gurney, its adrenaline rush soon to be forgotten.

Once again, this is a violation of a cardinal strategic rule; never change a winning tactic. Remember in game 2 when Carlisle put in Barea and the way that kid turned on the Mavs as if a turbo charger had been shoved up their asses? You didn't see Carlisle yanking that kid out before the Mavs had thoroughly stomped and psyched out the Lakes. In other words, Carlisle let Barea play out his rush.

This is a basic 101 strategy in war, investing, business, even gambling, perhaps more so in gambling. If you're cranking at the tables, let's say you're on your way to tripling up, what, you should pick up your chips and all of a sudden call it a night?

The irony in a footnote here? Bynum all of a sudden decides that now is the time to get fired up. All of the shots of him shouting and getting all worked up seemed like so much posturing - desperate posturing, by someone who because of circumstances and all, has been far from what I thought he could be.

THE THREAD
It should be obvious by now, but Phil's the common denominator in all of this. A few of my friends and I are of the opinion that Phil's overrated, and I think this proves it. In games 1 & 2, arguably, for as bad as the Lakes played, they could have won if the fundamental mistakes would have been avoided.

There's a poker saying; it's a game of making the least mistakes. In a way, sports (and everything, really) and in particular hoops can be thought of this way. But with these three games, the Lakes added another dimension to that adage; because when you commit errors on such an elementary level, you go to the core. And if things are off at the core, how can you possibly expect the billion other things that basketball imposes to not be affected? It's like trying to build a bridge without understanding physics.

The late Arthur Ashe told one of my favorite stories about a time when he was playing Davis Cup, and during a changeover, his coach said, "Get your first serve in." Ashe cited this because it's silly to tell a tennis player, but particularly a pro like Ashe, to get his first serve in, because it'd be like telling Kobe: "Make 80% of your freethrows." While that's an example of bad coaching, at least Ashe's coach was thinking about strategy, even if it was on a kindergarten level. But it's kind of obvious that Phil hasn't been; maybe he's daydreaming about Jeanie.

This lack on the fundamental level has reared its ugly head in some conspicuous ways, particularly on D. Dirk was so open on one 3 there was a campfire beside him.

LOOKING AHEAD: ALL'S NOT LOST
Obviously, Kupchak is gonna have to work this summer, really, extra hard. Blow up that cell of yours, Kup, because you know what? We haven't had a real point guard in a while. I like Fish, but even in his prime, Fish wasn't the caliber 1 that a team as storied as the Lakes deserved. But guess what; Chris Paul's unrestricted in 2012. So is Deron Williams. Hello? You're breaking up....

Baron Davis is also up in 2012 as are fellow Bruins Westbrook and Farmar, but I don't know if Baron's a good fit. He can run 1, but he loves to get wild. I think Westbrook's good. I'd take a chance on him. I don't know how the Celts managed to get Rondo, but that kid's the find of the decade. But if we get CP, then it's on. But that raises the obvious; what're we giving up?

Magic said that except for Kobe everything's legit bait. Think about that; he's basically cleaning house. I don't know if I agree, but let's not forget that before the playoffs, the Lakes were a legit 3-peat threat. Very legit. Also, while I think Magic was the greatest player ever, as a coach he made Del ("Dull") Harris look interesting. So as a GM, I don't know how much more insightful he'd be. 

The other historically glaring need is for a 4. Gone are the days of hard helmets like AC or Clark Kent; we need someone to get in, plug up the middle and grab some fucking boards like he's starving and missed shots are cheeseburgers. Zach Randolph, after a billion teams (including everyone's bus stop, the Clips), is having the time of his life. I heard earlier he had 14 boards and it was only the 3rd quarter or something. And guess what? He's unrestricted.

When was the last time a Laker power forward just went off and dominated the boards? No Rodman doesn't count.

But arguably the biggest change is Phil. As I said before, I think his lack of attention on basic strategy has been key. In prior years the Lakes have relied on talent and youth, but it was only a matter of time before 1) they got older and slower (Barea made them look like they were wearing lead boots) and 2) the league caught up to the vaunted triangle offense. The Lakes certainly contributed -- the lack of mental fortitude I mentioned at the top is but one example. Not paying attention to other basics -- such as pounding it down the lane or in the block when you've talented players like our bigs and one of the premier shot creators in history in Kobe is a sin. Instead, the Lakes were reduced to giving it to Kobe (or Pau), everyone fleeing to the weak side and then standing around as one on one ensued and a J was launched. Not only is it boring, but, violating yet another strategic rule, it's predictable. Communicating and rotating on D is yet another.

The Lakes are the sports meltdown to go with the economy. With the Spurs ouster and the Celts dropping their first 2 (they're still holding serve though), change is obviously the operative word.

I've now seen 3 of the 4 classic team incarnations (Baylor/West/Chamberlain, Magic, Kobe). What hurts so much is not that they lost -- "all good things must come to an end" was my ma's mantra when I was a kid and my eyeroll cue -- but the way they lost. Unlike our economy, the Lakes can recover. In the big scheme of things, I know this peasant wish of mine doesn't mean jackshit, but I have way too much emotionally invested in this team to let go now. So here's to the future.

Friday, April 09, 2010

The Oligarchy of Sports

As I listened to Artie Lange guesting on Bubba the Love Sponge, he was of course entertaining and, as usual, poignant. Toward the end Bubba, a big sports fan, asked fellow sports nut Artie if he'd gone for the Yankees' scheme; pay $20,000 to hold your season seats for the new Yankee stadium. My transcription of that dialog - with edits - is as usual at the end of my rant.

Here's the scenario when I was a kid: I went to at least a half dozen to a dozen Laker games a season. There were so many future Hall of Fame-rs then, and I saw them all; Jerry West, Oscar Robertson, Bill Russell, Wilt, Rick Barry, and my fave, Elgin Baylor... I am this old; I saw the Lakers play first at the Sports Arena. I did that up until about the age of 12. Then they moved to a bigger arena.

Sports then weren't dominated by athletes looking to get paid for endorsing some jerkoff sugar water. I suppose with what little most of them made then I wouldn't begrudge them if they had. But the air was unassuming then, so much so that a kid could hang around after the game and get all of their autographs - save for Russell and Chamberlain who never signed - which I still have on programs socked away somewhere. With the move to the Forum in '67, things changed. Much nicer venue, higher prices - but still in the ghetto. Jack Kent Cook - who'd go on to own the Redskins (a horrible name) - was the money and the man behind the move.

My last great memory associated with the Lakers is '88, when they were going for the first back-to-back championship in 20 years since the Celts. We didn't think we had a chance at tickets, and I didn't want to hassle going to the box office with all of the yahoos and scalpers. But my friend Linda went and got two tickets - one for game 6, one for game 7. That's all they had, singles. She asked me which one I wanted, and I said she should pick since she was the one who went through the trouble; she took game 7.

Game six is my favorite sports experience. The Forum was packed, the game was a classic, and produced one of the most jaw-dropping performances I've ever witnessed by a human being:

One of Piston guard Isiah Thomas' career-defining performances came in Game 6. Despite badly twisting his ankle midway through the period, Thomas scored a still-NBA Finals record 25 third quarter points, as Detroit fell valiantly, 103-102, to the Lakers at the Forum.

-from the Wiki on the '88 Finals

At one point, when the Lakes - both teams really - were whipping the crowd into a frenzy, it got so loud that the young couple beside me who I'd befriended and I tried shouting to each other to no avail.

I think we got those seats for under 30 bucks each. They weren't great seats, but this was the Finals. It was history in the making. And it was a classic matchup.

Sports have provided so many moments seared into my being that to me, life is kind of colorless without them. I mean, I love art in all of its forms, but for my money, nothing matches the intensity and elation of sports at its best. Let alone really good books or docs on sports - HBO's Real Sports being some of the best filmmaking around. Then there's playing sports, because if you play consistently and long enough the odds are that you'll experience "the zone" at least a few times. That's a remarkable thing.

Just last year, Fish got tickets for the playoffs. It was the first round, Denver, and they were good seats through one of her company's clients. I hadn't been to the Staples Center in a few years for a Laker game, although I'd seen the Clippers a few times, but any team that has had Benoit Benjamin start for them, well, that doesn't count.

Sports today, the business of sports, like everything else, is about spamming you relentlessly to cram consumerism down your throat and up your ass. The sheer amount of wattage running all of the spam signs in Staples could power Kobe's ego for a week. And for me, a lifelong Laker fan who's been priced out but who helped build their fucking business, it's bittersweet at best.

I don't like Kobe, I think many have problems with him but are cowed because he's a superstar. But what else explains why Shaq - arguably the most dominant player in the league then - would leave when by my estimation they could have won 2 possibly even 3 more after already three-peating?

The Lakers of today are a name only, or a commodity, a thing that's used - for status, not for enjoying. There's a thrill when you hear a band that you like; but it's so much more when you see them play live. TV and sports are cool, but watching a live game, being in that atmosphere, particularly as a kid, it's indescribable. And I would have loved to share that with Renee, but the Lakers fucked the very fans who made them what they are.

And still, the Lakers of today are nothing like the great 80's or even the struggling 70's teams (with the exception of the '71 championship team which is really an extension of the 60's team), let alone the classic 60's. Today it's all very in your face crass, impersonal, all about money and that just kills what sports used to be about - the real fans enjoying their team. It's Lamar - pay me 14 mil and watch as I fuckin' disappear - Odom. It's Kobe jackin up 20 footers with the team standing around just watching, about as interesting to watch as the jerkoff business people in the corporate boxes sipping fuckin' chardonnay or whatever their lame-o candy asses like. It's depressing.

No, the Lakers, they've broken cardinal rule number one of the streets; don't forget where you came from.

Just like our government and these jerkoff corporations are giving a big "fuck you" to all those from the working class who had grandparents and older generations claw their way over and literally build this fucking country. My grandparents' generation for one are stomping and yelling from their graves, but it's one quality of being a complete fucknut that you can't have a conscience.

No, the Lakers, much like Artie Lange's Yankees, have given a great big resounding finger to us from the working class, the real fans, and opted for the Hollywood jerkoffs who take their blonde bimbo with the fake everything because the Laker game is where you go to be seen. It's sad; the Laker game has become a circle jerk beauty pageant. God forbid you should get distracted by a basketball game.

Oh, as Fish and I drove up to Staples for that playoff game, I saw what for me was the most astounding representation of just how lame sports are today. As we passed a parking lot right off of Fig, I believe, there was a small parking lot almost directly across from the arena. In the lot were nothing but Lexuses, Audis, Benzes, Beemers, Bentleys, limos... a sign read: $40.

Sports are supposed to be fun, not getting you to whip out your wallet to corporations. For god's sakes, it's supposed to be something working class kids can have in their otherwise deprived lives of not being able to shop on Montana Avenue, but these shitheads don't care. It's like the kid who comes to a marble game and wants all the marbles so that no one else can play except whom he deems. The league, owners and corporations have all conspired and now only the kids in Beverly Hills and Brentwood can go, or those with parents who have connections. It's just mean and sad.

What's become of the world?

From Bubba the Love Sponge, 3/20/09 – guest, Artie, at about 1:07:45; transcribed & edited by jp
Note: Artie's a multi-millionaire, and Bubba's not poor by any means. Still, their working class roots keep them grounded. Spice is Bubba's sidekick.

Bubba: Did you cough up the extra money, just the fuckin’ outlandish amount of money they’re making people lay down for a seat deposit for the new Yankee Stadium?

Artie: Unfortunately man, I did.

Bubba: My god. Can I ask at all what that seat deposit was?

A: Well I’m splittin’ it with uh…

B: (Astounded) Man…

A: …with two other guys who I’ve always split it with. My cut now… in the old stadium, I had amazing seats; I had five rows behind third base, and I had ‘em for ten years. And, uh, you know, throughout the World Series and everything, they cost me, I had ta lay out about twenty g’s. But, when the Yankees are good, you know, back then they cracked down on this now you can’t do it anymore because, you know, huh, the Yankess don’t want you scalping tickets, not because of any ethical reasons because they fuckin’

B: Resell ‘em!

A: Exactly. So they wrote me a letter threatening to take my fuckin’ tickets away because… to a legal scalper, no bullshit…

B: A ticket broker.

A: Yeah, a ticket broker. So, uhm, I was laying out twenty grand but back when they didn’t give a shit about that you could make money on the fuckin’ deal because it was like a part-time job, the Yankees were that good. So you’re not allowed to do that anymore, so obviously, I’m not gonna sell tickets to anybody, cuz fuck it.

B: You have the same seats or no?

A: Okay, twenty g’s for five rows behind third. In the new stadium, okay? I’m now ten rows behind third because five rows back are all corporations. You can’t even get near it.

B: Not even close, huh?

A: And, it would have been two hundred grand.

COLLECTIVE: OOOO!

B: AIG needs that bailout money to get those.

A: Yeah. That includes the vig they charged everybody…

B: Jesus…

A: So now, going back another five to seven rows, I’m like around the tenth or twelfth row, I gotta see, behind third, still downstairs, not bad, uh, I laid out… sixty five thousand.

COLLECTIVE: OH!

B: That was only one third.

A: Yeah.

B: That would make me no longer a Yankee fan.

A: And I did it reluctantly. I actually told my friend who I do it with all the time, I said you know what?, cuz I hate A Rod, I just don’t like the guy, uh you know, he’s got no rings with the Yanks yet…

B: Missing in October.

A: Right exactly. I said this on Letterman, I said I got no problem with A Rod doing steroids, but clearly he stops doing ‘em October first.

B: It’s the truth.

LAUGHTER

A: If you’re gonna do ‘em do ‘em all fuckin’ year brother. I mean, Jesus. So uh, I’m an underdog kinda guy too like you guys, the Yanks were the one frontrunner I always liked. But it’s even getting nauseating for me with the A Rod. You know Jeter doesn’t like him, uh, he’s out for a couple of months. I don’t care if Scott Brosius is drunk with a big huge gut somewhere, and I don’t know if he drinks at all, I’m just saying if he is somewhere, just bring him back. I like Brosius better. Bring back Graig Nettles who I know drinks, I love Nettles, he’s the best! Dig up Clete Boyer’s bones, 1960’s guy who fuckin’ died.

B: Just prop him up there.

A: So … I almost said, “You know what? Fuck these motherfuckers”…

Spice: Cuz they’re fuckin’ the fans is what they’re doin’.

A: And I have a venue to say it. I almost wanted to say “Fuck the tickets” and then get on the air …

B: And say it.

A: …and say “Look, this is why I’m not doin’ it.”

B: Yeah. It’s highway fuckin’ robbery.

S: If you’re an average fan no way can you go to the game.

A: My old man climbed roofs for a livin’ man, I don’t think he ever made sixty five thousand dollars in a year, and he’s the one who got me into the Yankees, that’s what the Yankees were born on.

B: But you know, your dad, back in the day, he could still take his boy to the ball game.

A: That’s what I’m saying.

S: None of these corporate assholes are true Yankees fans from back in the day.

A: The story I tell in the book about when [my dad] threw me on the field, the Reggie Jackson game…

B: I remember that!

S: That’s great…

A: Now we sent away for tickets, World Series game, game six, he sent away in the middle of the season, cuz the Yanks had played the Reds in the series, got killed the year before, but, he took a chance, he said, “You know what? I’m gonna send away through the mail for tickets.” We got nosebleed seats cuz they came through the mail, last row of the upper deck behind third base. I remember Graig Nettles looked like a speck – not a spic, a speck – it was the South Bronx. So I can remember, that’s where a guy, right in front of my father, you talk about a different time, the ‘70’s, a guy asked me to hold his beer while he rolled a joint.

LAUGHTER

A: Ten years old I had a contact high cost my old man $80 in hot dogs. I still have those ticket stubs, it’s a shit seat, last row the upper deck, but this is a World Series game. TEN BUCKS A PIECE.

B: Yep!

S: God that’s cool…

B: And a guy could afford to take your boy to the ball game.

A: Oh! You know who you see at the Yankees games now? Guys in suits who get there in the third inning and leave in the seventh…

B: With their fuckin’ Blackberrys...

A: Or some rich kid in a polo shirt with khaki fuckin’ shorts whatever the fuck…

B: Penny loafers…

A: Right. In the ‘70’s and even into the mid 80’s you saw guys who just worked for the city somewhere, you saw a fireman, a cop, a plumber. Or guys like my father, I remember my father taking me to a Yankee game right from work. He had sheet rock on his arm and insulation, and he’d wash up in the fuckin’ sink at Yankee Stadium, and hold me up to take a piss in the sink.

A: But yeah, that’s it man. Can you believe that? Sixty five g’s I’m payin’. And I’m not allowed to sell ‘em anymore. I mean they’re just rape… They’re telling the blue collar fan to fuck off, and the Jets and the Giants both did it too. It’s a fuckin’ shame.