Number of the Day: Kyrie Irving's 57 against the Spurs

courtesy of gettyimages

Yeah. Still not over it.

Fries & Ketchup: The Force of Georgia Football & Other Things Baller

Retribution is a Star Wars film made by UGA wide receiver Christian Conley. I first heard of the film on Clay Travis' site Outkick the Coverage. The film features cameos from prominent figures in the Georgia program, including running back Todd Gurley and head coach Mark Richt. (In fact, Richt's cameo could be interpreted as a strange bit of commentary on how unaware college coaches are of their players' extracurriculars.) Perhaps, though, what the film sells best, beyond Star Wars and Georgia football, is the Classic City itself. Sanford Stadium is the perfect setting for action, the campus is idyllic, and the city streets made me long with nostalgia for sleepy autumn mornings in the breast of the south. Enjoy:


 

LeBron is a Vampire, Or Not

I know. I know. We never post here anymore, which is only kind of true. Anyway, over at The Faster Times, I have posted a few things over the last few days, weeks, months. One is this piece on LeBron James' vampire t-shirt where I arrive at the conclusion that currently he's more El Chupacabra. Feel free to tell me I'm a longwinded idiot.

This Should Help Your Popularity..

"All the people that were rooting on me to fail, at the end of the day they have to wake up tomorrow and have the same life that they had before they woke up today. They have the same personal problems they had today. I'm going to continue to live the way I want to live and continue to do the things that I want to do with me and my family and be happy with that.

The Best Thing That Could Ever Happen to LeBron

Nothing is more polarizing than a popular kid. To be popular, according to the dictionary, means to be perceived fondly and discussed in terms of general approval, but I'm not so sure that's always the case, because to be popular is also to be exposed, to jealousy, to contempt, to ridicule, to unreasonable standards, solely because people praised you in the first place. Not only can popularity unleash the negativity of the masses onto an individual, but popularity, just like its counterpoint, can uproot the individual from reality altogether.

Poet in the Post: The Heat of Crying

She told everyone I cried.
I don't remember crying,
but she said that I did.
She dumped me in fifth grade,
on the phone,
and then told all the other pony-tailed girls
that I cried like I was one of them.
I still don't remember the tears,
but I do remember being sad--
I remember being a sad, little fifth grader.

Paper Tigers: What Lessons Need to Be Learned by Miami's Big Three from Embarrassment

"Is Allah so unbending. . . . Should God be proud or humble, majestic or simple, yielding or un-? 

What kind of idea is he?What kind am I?"

--Salman Rushdie, The Satanic Verses

I've got four years experience, but I am in no way an expert teacher. I still struggle sometimes with how to give upbeat criticism that doesn't crush a kid's hopes and inspirations. I also sometimes over react to small things, and I under react to big things. And I know there are times when my expectations grate on the kids, especially my AP students. I call them kids because sometimes I need to remind myself that they're still growing up and that car wash fundraisers and Prom and curfews are all more important to them than the knowledge to be found in 50 Essays. I call them kids because I need to remind myself that patience is required; they are not finished products--some of them aren't even on the same assembly line. But one of the few things I have learned in my short tenure as an educator is that students kids need to know you have a plan and they need to believe in it. And while they may not know every step of the plan or even need to know, you have to make them aware that the plan is a process and not an exact formula. The plan is never as simple as do this, then this, and then this happens. It's more like work on this, work on it some more, okay, now that you think you've mastered it, work on this new thing. It's frustrating. It's a battle of wills. It's cursing the powers that be, and it's wrestling with faith. No more. No less. Just complicated and tedious. Even painful.

LCBinsider: Unfounded Rumors

-Because of the violent nature of Andre Miller's hit on Blake Griffin (shown below), NFL commissioner Roger Goodell will be suspending the Portland point guard from ever playing in the NFL.  Andre Miller responded, "No one wants to play in that weak ass league anyway.  They wear helmets."

The Unending Juxtaposition Continues: The King and His Airness

This mash up of LeBron and Jordan's latest Nike commercials is absolute brilliance and serves as a strange warning to both LeBron and basketball fans. LeBron: work harder. Fans and critics: never judge the present while still occupying it.  Questions: what's to be made of the fact that Nike's commercials for LeBron can even be boiled down to recycled bits of His Airness' ad reel?  Is LeBron a parody of Michael? Or full blown satire?

Right now, unfortunately, it's starting to feel a lot like farce.

Hostage Crisis: Chris Paul and the NBA Ring Chase

When I was a kid, I loved Cracker Jacks.  I used to always open the box and jam my whole forearm down into the layers of caramel-coated popcorn.  My whole arm grew sticky and came out smelling like a warehouse full of cardboard, and if I hadn't gotten hold of the prize I so desperately sought, I might have felt dirty.  The thing is, every Cracker Jack box guaranteed a prize.  There was no doubt, so it was always worth it.

Revisiting LeBron's Decision and Jesse Jackson's Comments

I already unloaded my thoughts the night it happened over at The Faster Times, and I still have yet to hear anyone defend The Decision; but opinions do vary heavily on the decision.  I even got into an argument with a woman yesterday about it and she left the room crying when I said loyalty went out the window the moment Dan Gilbert fired his GM and coach who had won 120 plus games the last two years, which, in my mind, opens up all sorts of floodgates.  She was neither from Cleveland, nor was she a basketball fan, and in her frustration, she said to hell with pro sports and that all their greed and disloyalty is why she watches only college sports, to which I responded "Lane Kiffin."  But the point I think both she and I and everyone everyone else are missing and are afraid to discuss is that this decision by James is much more complicated than a matter of loyalty.  In fact, what it has to say about loyalty may be a marginal matter in terms of this decision's importance.

LCBInsider: Unfounded Rumors

-Reporting from the frontiers of the NBA, Teach spins us a tale of the LeBron James gang over at The Faster Times, painting them as a bunch of cattle rustlers and rapists, or a new generation of heroes.  Left out of the legend are German farmer Dirk Nowitzki's misgivings on The Farmer's Almanac, being tied to the land, and how the wind all of a sudden is blowing east.  Heck, even the grizzly fur trader Amar'e has packed his bags and headed back to New York City, with a rattle snake over his shoulders and a saddle, but no horse, in his hands.  In other words, we've all been to the Pacific and now it's time to come home.  The commemorative coin for the Western Conference's dominance can be purchased for $19.99, but it's worth at least a cool thousand.

- Keeping with a western theme, Shaq apparently wants to join up with Timmy Duncan in order to visit the Bad Lands of South Dakota and study up close the devastating effects of erosion on what was once a mighty terrain, millions of years ago.

-Cavs owner Dan Gilbert blames video games for LeBron James joining Dwyane Wade and Chris Bosh in Miami, stating, "What can you expect from a generation raised on reset buttons?  And in my mind, this is much worse. like presetting the rosters before starting franchise mode or something."

-Stan Yeungling reports that "The Cavs are still the best team in Cleveland without LeBron," which means maybe the Browns should make James an offer.

-The state of Ohio plans to make LeBron's Akron mansion into a state cemetery, much like the federal government did with Robert E. Lee's Arlington home during and after the Civil War.

-JJ Redick cancels his hour long free agent special, where he planned on reading an epic poem about the trials and tribulations of making a perfect peanut butter and jelly sandwich, explaining, "It would just be spitting in the face of all those crying Cleveland fans because I'm not going there either."

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LCB NBA Picks: Lebron's Destination

Everyone else is doing it, so we thought we would join in on the fun, because we're sheep. Yep, you guessed right, we're going to tell you where Lebron is playing next season before he gives his big announcement tomorrow night. So give us a moment, as we prepare to look into the deep dark future of tomorrow and make the jump to see what we see.

Bottled Ships: Dr. Manhattan and the NBA's Brat Pack

At some point the brute force with which the Celtics have dismissed the brightest stars of the NBA's future becomes less about their own aggression and the lack of it in their opponents.

Don't get me wrong, I'm in complete awe of this Ponce de Leon like quest that the Celtics are currently taking.  As Bethlehem Shoals points out in his piece "The Fourth Man," this Celtics team is not only willing itself into the Finals but into our hearts and minds.  I, like Shoals, always viewed the KG era in Boston as that of a desperate mercenary.  I even came to the conclusion during this year's first round that this desperation was so acute that it became as awkward as a man hewn in the midwest reincarnating himself as some silly adolescent fantasy of wealth and all its stereotypes; in other words, Kevin Garnett was a basketball Gatsby, twitching, nervous, "pale as death," and annoyingly desperate.  That view is now shattered.

My view of Kevin Garnett as a tragic figure stalking another NBA championship into oblivion began to break apart the moment Boston exiled LeBron James on the island of Elba, and the perception was completely shattered with last night's 94-71 Game 3 win over Orlando.  Garnett is not Gatsby.  He is not reaching for the green light.  But rather he melded with the light. He's now more like Bruce Banner, or-- better yet--Jon Osterman.

The old Garnett was obliterated by a knee injury that left him as loose particles, destroyed, lost, suspended, and this season we judged Garnett as deceased, not realizing that what we were witnessing was his reassembling into a figure able to collapse time into a single moment.  And now the fate of the NBA universe rests in his hands, and the Finals looks to be a showdown between this timeless Garnett, the essence of creation, and the driven intelect of Kobe Bryant, who, like Ozymandias, has spent his whole life studying the greatness of past conquerors--Alexander the Great, Ramses, MJ--in order to surpass them.  This showdown is nothing new.  In fact, what we're about to see is a 1980s' cult comic transformed into an underwhelming blockbuster.  I say underwhelming not because the basketball will be be subpar and unentertaining but because we already know the story. This was supposed to be the year when the NBA stepped fully into a new era, when the younger generation of stars seized the torch from the previous generation, but, instead, we have a reliving of the past; and trying to relive the past usually leads to feelings of disappointment.

Over on Straight Bangin'  Joey argues that the NBA is a changed place today because the NBA's best player, LeBron James, is not ascending his throne as and when he should, but the NBA is no different than it always was.  If one continues to view the NBA in terms of the players as forces, then, yes, the NBA may appear different when in truth it is not. The NBA is a place where organizations act as forces.  Look at the short list of teams that have championship banners as proof, and the fact that once again the Lakers will play the Celtics for an NBA title shows that little in this League ever changes. Anywhere other than Boston Kevin Garnett would be a Gatsby, but, in Boston, he's Dr. Manhattan.

One could argue that where KG differs from his comic likeness is that his reincarnation has made him more sympathetic to other players in the League, noting his advice to LeBron at the end of their series to go where the organization will help him win a championship, stating, "you can't get youth back."  The problem is that KG's statement, whether he intended it to or not, embodied the coldness of the NBA's seas because KG's statement also made the claim that franchises like Cleveland and Minnesota do not win championships, which is the elephant in the room that rarely gets mentioned in basketball circles.  In fact, the only person who does mention it on a regular basis is Michael Wilbon.  Many people always argue that the Lakers vs. the Celtics in the Finals is what David Stern and the television networks want, but the 1990's saw huge ratings in the Finals and not once did the Celtics play the Lakers.  The real problem for the NBA is that it appears to have bought into the idea that it needs the Celtics vs. Lakers narrative to unfold again and again, which ignores the League's real problem that so few teams ever win championships.  This past decade eight different MLB franchises won the World Series and eight different NFL franchises won the Super Bowl, but only five different NBA franschises won the NBA Finals; and all but one of those teams already had a championship banner.  The other Leagues each had more than one first-time winner, and baseball, the League without a salary cap, also saw two franchises end nearly century long droughts.  Could it be that both baseball and football are more popular because they speak more to the American dream and the belief that something can come from nothing, that hay can be spun into gold?  And in the NBA, hay is always hay, and with his ability to see the past, present, and future simultaneously, was KG not warning LeBron that, hey, Cleveland ain't winning a title now or never--the NBA is an unbroken rainbow spun from purple and gold and green threads.

The Brat Pack didn't age well.  Over the last decade, while Shaq, Duncan, Kobe, and Garnett, ruled the roost, a lot of spring chickens were supposed to be planning coups, but here we are at the end of the 2010 season and Kobe and Garnett are about to go at it again and the questions facing LeBron's generation are now more than where they will play next year but what are their true colors.  With the exception of Dwyane Wade, this group of players has accomplished very little other than individual awards, and, for the most part, they do not appear to be leaders.

When I say LeBron's generation, I'm basically looking at the draft classes from 2002 through 2004.  I'm going with these years because it's from these three drafts that the nucleus for the USA basketball team is drawn.

-The best players out of the 2002 draft are Yao Ming and Amar'e Stoudemire.
-The best players out of the 2003 draft are LeBron James, Carmelo Anthony, Chris Bosh, and Dwyane Wade.
-The best player from the 2004 draft is clearly Dwight Howard, but it's worth mentioning that his running mate Jameer Nelson is also from that draft.

The end of every decade is a gauntlet for younger players, placing them in a crucible, and the player whose heart winds up the hardest usually winds up ruling the next decade.  Only three of these players are still playing, but the first year of this new decade has not gone well for the players that are supposed to be its cornerstones.  Yao is a fragile giant.  Amar'e appears to have let his 2007 suspension and all the trade rumors write off all life's events to chance, as seen by his Lamar Odom got lucky comments.  Carmelo failed to step into the leadership void created by his coach's absence.  Bosh missed the Playoffs.  Wade's career continues to follow Tom Cruise's popularity arc post Nicole Kidman, and Dwight Howard appears to be more Clark Kent than Superman.  This offseason several of these players will be driven by instinct or impulse to change teams or to stay put, and whoever can resurrect their career out of the ashes of a postseason that burned like St. Elmo's Fire will most likely be drawn to the light of a franchise that's won before; and when these players are offered the leading parts in a franchise's narrative, we will begin to reach a verdict on whether they are style over substance or substance over style because most likely these moths will fly to the teams whose past accomplishments burn brightest (i.e. Chicago).


Kevin Garnett did not gather the particles of his being without an effort of will and the catalyst of Celtic Pride, and one has to wonder if LeBron's generation has had their willpower stunted by hellicopter moms, coddled out of them by AAU coaches, neglected as a result of celebrity granted and not earned, or if they were simply born without it.  Regardless of what weakened them, they will not be what we want them to be without the aid of a mighty franchise pushing them out to sea.

Or maybe this generation is reversing the stereotypes placed upon it, that they need everything at the click of a mouse or the push of a button, by waiting patiently for their time to come, rather than seizing it.  Afterall, even as Dr. Manhattan, KG can't stay on Earth forever, so the question becomes what happens to all the world's bottled ships once the cork and glass that caged them disappears--do they sail or do they sink?

LeBron James faces the offseason: "Office in Small City"

Do I even have to preface this story?  The Cavs lost, and they lost in shocking fashion.  That is all. 

LeBron James just spent the last six hours altering his destiny, crossing out every appointment and meeting on his calendar from now until July, making each box of the week into a transparent window, as if time were now transparent and of little consequence--only, how can the moments of our lives be of little consequence?  Moments tend to build and stack into cinder block walls, gather momentum like a freight train, or increase in mass like a snowball, but, with each stroke of his pen, LeBron took a block off the wall, shoveled coal out of the furnace, and unrolled a snowball into a white carpet; and even he was uncertain as to whether his actions were driven by freedom or recklessness.  Maybe freedom is reckless.  LeBron did not want to think about it, yet one's own thoughts are rabid dogs, hard to put down.  LeBron stared through the windows of his office, taking in the cloudless sky before him.  He was a man without obligations.  He could go anywhere, but he chose to stay seated, doing absolutely nothing.

A pulley squeaked outside LeBron's window, as two men lowered themselves by feeding rope to metal wheels.  When they found themselves level with the floor of LeBron's office, they stopped and tapped on the window.  LeBron didn't budge.  He didn't even blink.  They tapped again.  Still nothing.

"I guess it don't matter to him whether we wash it or not.  He ain't movin.  Look at his eyes," the man pressed his index finger against the glass, leaving his fingerprint.  "Jus' look at 'im, Antawn.  He's got goldfish eyes.  I bet if we wait he puffs his cheeks out."  The man demonstrates his theory by puffing out his own cheeks.

"Mo, quit clowning.  If, Mr. James, doesn't want to communicate that's fine, but we ain't gaining nothing by inciting the man."  Antawn begins to wipe the window down with a wet rag, obscuring their view of the office from the outside, and as they washed the window, LeBron didn't move.

"Mr. James?  Mr. James, Mr. Brown wanted me to deliver this," in comes LeBron's secretary, Ms. Varejao, carrying a fish bowl.  "Where do you want this?"  LeBron doesn't answer.  He continues to stare out the window now streaming with water, and he begins to feel sad.  The emotion catches him off guard.  In fact, LeBron's not sure if the emotion is even his.  In fact, he decides the tears welling up in his eyes must belong to his reflection, in the window, and not him.  No, this sadness can not be his.  It must belong to the window.  It must be part of a daily routine: a part of the building's daily maintenance.  That's right.  At age twenty-five, he's too young to cry.   This emotion that's not even his is just upkeep, something that must happen.

"Mr. James, you can ignore me if you want to, but I'm leaving the bowl in here.  I don't need it, and I don't want it," Ms. Varejao places the bowl in front of LeBron on his desk.  The water sloshes a bit as she places it on the cherry wood desk and lands on an envelope, addressed LeBron, that Ms. Varaejao has also delivered.  "Good day, sir."  She walks out and shuts the door.

In the bowl are two Siamese fighting fish, slowly circling one another, flaring their gills, each displaying its colorful fins like a matador's red cloth.  LeBron watches them, studies them, wonders why Mr. Brown wants him to be the proud owner of two Betta fish.  He opens the envelope as the smaller Betta fish charges the larger one:

LeBron, I need you in Boston this week--make that the company needs you.  You need to inform Mr. Garnett, Mr. Pierce, and Mr. Allen that their services are no longer necessary.  I don't care how you do it, just as long as it gets done.  If you need any further motivation, just observe my two fighting fish, MJ and Kobe.  They will teach you all you need to know about competition and survival of the fittest.


Mike Brown


LeBron balled the note up and let it fall to the floor.  The smaller fish was now floating belly up in the bowl, its fins wrapping around it like a shroud.  The larger fish wobbled in the water, drunk on violence, numb to the cost of victory.  LeBron picks up the bowl, raises it above his head, and hurls it at the window, screaming.  The bowl bursts, less like glass, and more like a bubble against the double paned window of the office.

"Daaaaammmmmnnnnnn!" calls one of the window washers, as both the men in their jumpsuits stare into the office window.  The other window washer calls back, "I don't know, but the dude seems a lil temperamental."

Standing in a puddle of water and glass shards, with a dead fighting fish beside his left foot and a flopping one beside his right foot, LeBron flares his nostrils as if they were gills.

Sebastian Telfair: On the Footnote of Kings

"In the future, when something comes up, you tell exactly how it happened but write down for yourself the way you think it should have happened."

--Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

The NBA trade deadline is all about movement.  Big names, All-Stars even, are reduced to migrant workers, forced to go where the fruit is in season.  The Cavs acquisition of Antawn Jamison involved six NBA players alone.  The transaction saw Al Thornton, Brian Skinner, Zydrunas Ilgauskus, and a first round pick arrive in Washington, a truck full of Joad's, grown weary of the west.  The Clippers welcomed Drew Gooden, and Antawn Jamison arrived in Cleveland by what appeared to be a ticker-tape parade; but that covers only five of the six vagabonds.  Rarely mentioned, just a footnote in history, relegated to the role of a supporting actor's stunt double, was Sebastian Telfair, who at the ripe old age of 25 found himself headed to his fifth team in six years.

Time Waster: Happy Holidays

The latest MVPuppets spots from Nike hit the intranets over the weekend. And if these recent ads are any indication, they will just keep getting better. Now, I don't want to spoil the surprise, so I'll just let you know that they feature a couple of hip-hop's finest. Enjoy.

Cleveland Cavaliers Preview: "Summer Evening"

In an effort to gear up for the NBA season, we will view the upcoming season through the eyes of Edward Hopper. Feel free to add your thoughts on the 2010 Cavs in our comments section.

LeBron James takes Shaq's hand, clearing his throat to sound sincere, "I don't care what happened with those other guys. Things will be different with us. I'm going to take care of you. All you need is me. Nobody else even matters."

Shaq stares off into the shadows, where all this talk of love leads.

"And we don't have to stay here forever. I'll save up money. Maybe go to college next year or the big city. Let's just make it work for one year and then blow this town. Just give me one year to prove myself."

Shaq's eyes flicker with the porchlights, "LeBron, I'm dying."

Tape Proves LeBron James is Human

The white Ford bronco, pictured above, was seen fleeing the LeBron James Skills Academy Monday night. Authorities believe that Nike basketball senior director Lynn Merritt is in the driver's seat and is accompanied by basketball superstar LeBron James of the Cleveland Cavaliers. The two are believed to be in possession of a video tape that showcases Xavier University's Jordan Crawford dunking with two hands over the 6'9" James.

Key investigator on the case ESPN reporter Skip Bayless gave the following account of the situation, "Well, we knew it was only a matter of time before something like this came to light. LeBron James has been posing as a superstar for way too long, which is why I call him Prince James on my show every morning."

When asked if his negative statements toward James in the past present a bias in the investigation, Bayless defended his investigation, stating, "I have no problem recognizing a king. I don't call Burger King 'Burger Prince,' so I don't think there's any way one can say I'm biased. I just don't believe that Prince James has the right to crown himself. He hasn't won anything, and I don't think he ever will; and this tape will further prove that he is not a deity or a progenitor of divine right. I've never seen a halo. Have you seen a halo? This tape will prove there is no halo."

Bayless then abruptly left the media session, commenting, "I've got to go and speak with Detective Mark Fuhrman about how to handle the pursuit of this Ford Bronco."

Jay Crawford of ESPN compared the confiscation of this tape and the treatment of the tape's creator Ryan Miller to "something out of Slumdog Millionaire." Crawford went on to say that when all is said and done this investigation will spark a bidding war over what appears to be the makings of an Oscar-worthy script. Crawford referenced the award show success of past films like Best Picture winner Slumdog Millionaire and Best Picture nominees The Insider and All the President's Men as proof that whistle-blowing equals high quality film-making. All three films showcase protagonists whose lives are endangered by their willingness to make honesty the best policy.

When asked if he were a true whistle blower, Miller responded, "I'm kind of pissed. I lost my tape," which is a typical response for a man scared that relaying the truth behind a historical cover-up might bring him physical harm, or even death.

Officials expect that Lynn Merritt and LeBron James will eventually give up their flight, citing that with the current economy and James' aspirations to be a billionaire a person just can not drive on forever. Social critic Cornel West backed up this idea, observing, "This story just doesn't have the legs to become a Thelma and Louise style marathon. Also, those being pursued do not possess the same pathos that those two heroines did. I don't think that in our current societal climate anyone will shed tears over the fact that a basketball player got dunked on while playing the only sport in which one can be dunked on. It just ain't happenin', folks."

The greatest fear that Nike and LeBron James seem to have is that the leaking of this tape to ESPN and on the internet will dispel the belief that James, whose team lost in the Eastern Conference Finals this past year, is not perfect, that he is indeed human, a point that Lucinda Williams, James' housekeeper, supports: "I've got plenty of tapes that show LeBron for who he is. Sometimes, when I'm vacuuming, he's in the bathroom brushin' his teeth and flossin', and I pull out my cell phone. I got all sorts of footage of him doin' every day stuff. Hell, the reason I'm vacuuming is cause he tracked mud in the house. He may be the King, but the boy don't walk on air."

It remains to be seen if Jordan Crawford does.

Time Waster: Kobe and LeBron Puppet Parody