“Why does shit like this always happen to my rotten ass?” – R.L.H.
The man who said the words above probably didn’t realize he was speaking for the downtrodden and hard luck of the world when he spoke those words of frustration and exasperation. Nor did he realize I’d be using his words to describe a sentiment shared by Portland Trail Blazers fans from sea to shining sea, but here we are…
The Blazers’ injury and draft-related woes have been re-told as a cautionary tale to would-be GMs for years like some kind of pro basketball boogeyman creeping in the knees and joints of promising Portland players, just waiting to strike when the time is worst. Brandon Roy and Greg Oden are the latest victims of said boogeyman, but Darius Miles, Sam Bowie (different circumstance) and Bill Walton find themselves associated with some variety of Rose City fever. To be fair, Bowie and Oden had the misfortune of preceding Michael Jordan and Kevin Durant in the draft; a sin so egregious that both men’s names will be forever intertwined with the Hall of Famers who came after them.
As much as I fantasize about an encyclopedic-length Choose Your Own Adventure novel based on NBA scenarios that could’ve, but didn’t happen (guarantee I’ll revisit this idea multiple times in the future), reality still looms with its cold hands and dark mornings. Despite the Roy/Oden apocalypse, the Blazers’ 2011-12 reality is much more comfortable than the unforgiving steel of a coroner’s cold table—which is where Roy’s career sadly resides. Mourning is a necessary part of the grieving process, but let’s not lose sight of the potentially exciting group Portland’s pieced together beginning with a man who’s blossomed over his five-year career: Mr. LaMarcus Aldridge. Prior to last season, I never liked his game and considered him soft by NBA standards. At 6’11” with broad shoulders, athleticism, balance and coordination, he was far too talented to get seven boards a night over his first three seasons. In Roy’s absence last season, Aldridge matured and seemed to become tougher, smarter and more polished at the same time. If I’m holding him to the All-NBA standards he’s achieved, the only thing I can ask is for him to continue improving his rebounding. 8.8 boards per game still seems like an underachievement. The other area of concern is that Aldridge just had the second heart surgery of his career for a condition called Wolff-Parkinson-White Syndrome. From all reports and internets, it’s not a life or career-threatening issue, but damn … can a Blazer fan go through an anxiety-free season?
It’s a fun cast of characters with Aldridge. Raymond Felton’s back it with the weight issues and while it’s easy to make jokes about fat NBA players, Felton’s Ricky Hatton-esque off-season weight gain habit hasn’t prevented him from steadily improving as a pro point guard. He’ll be spelled by recent signing, the 50-point mercenary, Jamal Crawford who returns to the Northwest in a homecoming of sorts (he’s a Seattle product). Crawford has always been a mesmerizing player on the offensive side of the ball based on his lean, lanky physique and heat check-ability. His limbs are made of rubber which allows him to make cuts and do things with the ball that other humans are physically unable to do (except for Rajon Rondo, who seems to be from a similar planet). In another era (like the 70s), I feel like the Big JC would’ve been adored for the effectiveness of his on-the-court trickery and competed with Earl Monroe or George Gervin for icon status. Yep, I like me some Jamal Crawford and hope to someday write an e-book about him that uses Youtube clips for footnotes and celebrates his underrated contributions to physical creativity, artistry and inventiveness.
The Gerald Wallace/Nicolas Batum tag team isn’t quite as fresh as Jamal, but Crash and Batum should provide ample highlights. Batum’s one of those players who’s always overrated by video game developers and thus gets overrated by some percentage of video game-playing NBA fans simply because he’s good on a video game. The reason the pixelated version of Batum is nice is because two of his best skills translate perfectly to the gaming realm: Dunking and shooting threes. Is this the year the real-life version (just turned 23 and already has three years of experience in the NBA) lives up to the promise foretold by NBA 2K11? Or will he have to play second fiddle to Wallace’s maniacal efforts?
There are other Blazers of intrigue like Wes Matthews, Marcus Camby and the Rhino, Curt Smith and owner Paul Allen, who happens to be a bit stranger than I realized. Unfortunately, it’s the absences of Brandon Roy and a hobbling Greg Oden that continue to attract the headlines. Even if this group of players is able to make the playoffs and advance out of the first round for the first time since 2000, we’ll all witness it under the burning question … what if they had a healthy B. Roy and Oden? And what that happens, just look back to the quote at the beginning of this post.
Milton pitching in to cover the Warriors and the crew Don Nelson left them with.
For the roughly 20 years I’ve been a basketball fan with any level of cognitive awareness, the Golden State Warriors have been an intriguing franchise. From Run TMC, to the infancy of Chris Webber’s career to Sprewell vs. Carlisemo there has been no shortage of topics to dissect and debate. For 11 of the last 23 years Don Nelson coached this franchise. Those 11 years were not in succession – Nelson’s tours with GSW were from 88-95 and 06-10 – but the influence of his alchemy appears to have been so prevalent that no other coach could find success. As if Nellie poisoned the East Bay waters, the 12 other seasons GSW was coached by another man were all sub .500 finishes. Nellie wasn’t without his own poor seasons (34-48 in 93, 26-56 in 2010) but he led GSW to .500 or better in 6 of 11 years at the helm.
In 2007 the 8th seeded Warriors pulled off the improbable by knocking off MVP Dirk Nowitzki and his vaunted, 67-15 Mavericks. That GSW group was full of perimeter players who created mismatches on offense and utilized toughness to bang with bigger guys defensively. The outcome was viewed by some as affirmation that Nellie’s mad scientist approach can bring to life a contender. The reality is they got hot at the right time and Stephen Jackson scared the crap out of Dirk.
Since then GSW has tried desperately to get that swagger back. Cap’n Jack, Jason Richardson and Baron Davis are long gone. In their place, Nellie acquired the likes of Matt Barnes, Al Harrington and Corey Maggette and things haven’t been the same since. Monta Ellis might be the fastest player in the NBA but he gives up so much defensively that the overall impact of his speed is negligible. Stephen Curry’s playmaking and defensive abilities have surprised me; however he appears better suited to play the two. His best skill is his jumper and his instinct tells him to shoot first and ask questions later. Andris Biedrins had one solid year and has since been injured or disengaged. How can you blame him for losing focus when Nellie didn’t even suit the same players up on a nightly basis from 08-10?
Near the end of Nellie’s second tenure with GSW, stories began to emerge about his affinity for liquor. Whether true or not, things had gone so awry in GSW that I often pictured Nellie wobbling drunkenly into the locker room on game nights like Jimmy Dugan in A League of Their Own. The end was near and everyone knew it. But after a long night of drinking comes the inevitable hangover.
Keith Smart coached the Warriors last year and the results were mixed, but mostly disappointing. The final tally was 36 wins and 46 losses but what do we really know about Smart as a coach? Not much. How can we judge him? He tried to play a more conventional style with a team of Nellie ballers.
Two key additions to last year’s squad who didn’t endure the bizarre Nellie experience, David Lee and Dorell Wright, provided solid production. Wright contended for Most Improved Player and Lee bounced back from a freakish tooth-in-the-elbow injury to average nearly a double-double (16.8, 9.8 reb). Lee and Wright are above average players but it’s hard to fit in with a Nellie roster if you’re not a Nellie player. Klay Thompson was selected with a lottery pick and is expected to contribute immediately. He’s got the pedigree (former Laker Mychal Thompson is his father) and can shoot the ball. Ekpe Udohis long and has potential but looks more like Thabeet than Mutombo.
Smart didn’t make it to a second year. An ownership change may have necessitated a move at head coach but the hire is still perplexing. Mark Jacksonhas never coached in the NBA as an assistant or a head coach. He was one of the finer players at his position in his era (and a mediocre announcer). The challenge for Jackson will be to combine the Nellie players (Monta, Biedrins, Udoh and to a lesser extent Steph Curry) with non-Nellie players (Lee, Wright, Thompson, Brandon Rush) to find a suitable team identity. It won’t be easy … certainly not for a coach with no experience. And word is he wants this team to focus on defense.
Nellie hosted an enjoyable party with booze aplenty, but for Golden State’s loyal and basketball wise fans, the hangover still lingers. The challenge for this great fan base is to keep downing the Advil and Gatorade and hope the headache slowly goes away. Another trip to the lottery is likely in the works.
The first post I ever wrote here was about the indefensible mugging the Spurs were receiving at the hands of a young, hungry, relentless Memphis Grizzlies team. After finishing the regular season with the West’s best record, the thousands of minutes and hundreds of games spanned over more than a decade worth of pro basketball had caught up with the great Tim Duncan and his associates. Now heading into another season at age 35, how should we feel about the present version of this all-time forward/center and the men who have flanked him in battle all these years?
As a sport consuming culture, we’ve become accustomed to watching our heroes transition from immortality (21pts, 20rebs, 10asts and 8blks—in a game six Finals clinching win) to flesh and bones mortals (6pts, 7rebs—against the Grizzlies in the playoffs last year—on his birthday!) on a gradual, measured decline with little reminders of previous greatness coming with less and less frequency. There’s nothing to be sad about here unless we fail to recall the past individual and team glories and with the ever-living online archive, this shouldn’t be a problem. Growing old and decaying is part of the deal; we just watch our athletes play out this sequence on the digitized, highly defined stages of ABC, TNT and ESPN while we experience our own in relative privacy.
What the fuck does any of this have to do with the San Antonio Spurs besides the fact that Tim Duncan has inevitably aged? (speaking of inevitably aging, if there was one player to make a deal with the devil or maybe one of the devil’s representatives, who would it be? I know the easy answer is Kobe, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was Durant or Dwight… for completely different reasons—another post for another day) The Spurs as a collective have aged. Manu Ginobili is suddenly 34, Tony Parker 29, Antonio McDyess (if he returns) 37, DeJuan Blair’s knees alone are over 40. The youth movement that began with George Hill and ended with George Hill has been swapped out for an even younger player who has hands big enough to palm three basketballs at once … while texting with the other hand at the same time! Kawhi Leonard’s hands are freakishly large, but he’s more than a set of huge mitts. He’ll likely challenge Richard Jefferson for playing time at the three. So there’s at least an eye to the future, but in San Antonio, it’s difficult to catch a clear view of the horizon over the receding shoulders of an exiting Duncan.
Among the living legends roaming the streets of San Antonio is the most ancient of all: Gregg Popovich, the Garry Kasparovof NBA coaches. The fact his name has two ‘Gs’ only adds to the mystique. Pop’s success with an aging roster playing an updated style is indicative of his powers both as a visionary and a manager. 2011 proved the old wizard still had the magic; he just didn’t have the tools. What does 2012 have in store?
What’s so different about the Spurs’ decline and that of the Suns? I asked myself this while I was walking home earlier and while the differences were numerous, the Suns had romance and dreams on their side while the Spurs were coldly analytical and capable of merely living out their dreams. Mike D’Antoni’s constant middle finger pointed in the direction of convention and the Lakers won the Suns fans far beyond Arizona’s borders. The Spurs were real, practical and boring as hell to the average basketball fan. They played defense and made mid-range bank shots and gave quality minutes to the Matt Bonners and Bruce Bowens of the pro basketball world. The only Spur who designed outside the lines was and still is Manu and even his rejection of conventional American-style basketball somewhat seemed to fit in with the Spurs. Controlled improvisation? Practiced spontaneity? Who could be so confident as to say? There were and are drastic differences between these two clubs and in the end it mostly had to do with what could’ve happened versus what did happen.
If you want immortality, set a record. The flesh tears and bones break. Immortality is for numbers and ideas. The Spurs have done a masterful job with this group and extended the shelf life and entertainment value further than it probably should’ve gone, but I’m unsure, uncertain what happens next or what needs to happen next. There’s the simple answer: It’s a business. Then there’s the reality of it: We’re humans, the Spurs front office is filled with humans and its arena is filled with humans who’ve adopted Duncan and Friends like travelers on a shared road with a shared destination. I don’t know what will happen, but I’d be happy to supply the booze and pull up a chair for a chat with Popovich and RC Buford and hear their honest, unspun, unfiltered, unabbreviated, unabridged thoughts on the future of these San Antonio Spurs.
I never intended to write about the league’s two worst teams over the past five years in back-to-back posts, it just came together this way and now we’re taking a trip down I-5 to the capital of Cali and home to one of its four NBA teams: Sacramento. Since the breakup of the Chris Webber Kings, a pall has been cast over the Kings-crazy fans of Sacto. Webber was traded on February 3rd, 2005 and while the Kings managed to remain afloat in the Western Conference for a couple years after, things officially bottomed out in the 2008-09 season when they won a franchise low 17 games. It’s been off ever since with the franchise building a young team around strong draft picks who, while entertaining, have proven to be success-challenged—this of course depends on your definition of success.
The reams of losing over the past three seasons haven’t stopped Sacramento fans from showing up and supporting their team in what almost feels like an endearing manner. How else could you love this motley crew that doesn’t get more motley than their 21-year-old center, DeMarcus Cousins; a headband-wearing giant ball of emotion and talent. Watching the young Cousins, it doesn’t take long to see he has a feel for the game that far exceeds his level of experience. It’s one thing when we see a young point guard like Omar Cook whip passes into spaces that only a fraction of the basketball-playing population could recognize, it’s something altogether different and refreshing to see the rare rookie center make passes and plays that defy the unoriginal standards and expectations we place on positions and ages. Then there’s the dark side to DeMarcus, an internal fury that feels Vesuvianly intense and is indiscriminate in choosing targets—the opposition, teammates, refs, coaches, me, you?
The Kings are more than their moody big man. They’re a collection of redundancy which is also referred to as depth. Francisco Garcia, John Salmons (picked up in the off-season) and Donte Greene seem as interchangeable as different brands of socks. Garcia adds more defensively, Salmons possesses a greater scorer’s mentality, but may have an inflated sense of his skills and Greene’s the youngest which means someone, somewhere is still waiting for him. In the backcourt, Tyreke Evans, Marcus Thornton and now Jimmer Fredette and even the last pick in the draft, Isaiah Thomas, each brings a shoot-first mentality—they clearly bring more dimensions than shooting, but none of these guards are renowned for their passing. Being on the west coast, I’ve seen quite a few Kings’ games over the past two years and have seen in Evans a talented player who makes awful decisions; particularly in crunch time. When you’re the best and most talented player on your team at 20-22-years-old, there are going to be growing pains, but Evans, and the Kings by extension, could benefit from a true point guard. The data at 82games.com indicates the Kings’ best lineups last year consistently included Beno Udrih who functioned primarily at the point. This truth makes me scratch my head at Sacramento re-signing Thornton and trading for Fredette. By another token, last year’s squad (24 wins) wasn’t exactly making people forget about Webber’s Kings.
JJ Hickson (acquired in a summer trade for Omri Casspi), Chuck Hayes (just signed) and Jason Thompson join Cousins on the front lines for Sacramento. It’s a serviceable, workmanlike crew that isn’t likely win any beauty contests, but collectively knows its role. In terms of intrigue, I rank these guys Cousins, then Hickson.
In what could be the final season for the Kings in Sacramento, the small similarities between the Kings and Sonics situations are just enough to revisit old scars: Ailing franchise coming up on the shoulders of future stars, franchise one foot out the door over some antiquated arena bullshit and a group fans who will suffer the most. The Kings belong in Sacramento and hopefully Kevin Johnson and crew can figure out a way to keep them there.
Did you know that Wesley Johnson (24), a rookie last year, is older than Kevin Love (23) and Michael Beasley (22)? Or that Beasley’s older than Ricky Rubio (21) and Derrick Williams (20)? The T’Wolves’ core is filled with youth, dreams and ceilings that reach beyond the firmament. To realize Kevin Love’s 30-30 game is to tip-toe into our past and dance with Moses Malone. To load up on youthful assets like David Kahn has done is put to faith in the future and bank on the development of at least one of Beasley, Johnson, Rubio, Anthony Randolph or Williams to partner with Love’s already historic body of work.
Being so bad for so long (last year, six teams had more wins (57 or more) than the Wolves have had over their past three years combined (56 total)), has helped Minnesota stockpile players who are barely old enough to drink. The front line is already established with a diverse threesome who can produce stats, but have struggled to generate wins. The backcourt, mostly point guard, is more mysterious. It’s not quite as confusing as crop circles, but Jonny Flynn, Luke Ridnour and Ricky Rubio give new Coach Rick Adelman options at the point. I picture a training camp where point guard front runners rotate on a daily basis like Republican Presidential candidates jockeying for position. With any luck, Kahn will throw the whole situation into chaos by drafting Marquis Teague to compete for the position in 2012.
Beyond the potential starters, Minnesota has elements of intrigue coming off the bench. Randolph perennially inspires stargazers to grab hold of isolated visions of potential and extrapolate them into 82-game projections punctuated by big, bold IFs. While the performances across his first three years as a pro have been marked by more valleys than peaks, it feels like we often forget this kid is just 22.
Then there’s Derrick Williams—Minnesota’s reward for being a terrible team yet again in 2011. Williams is an explosive combo forward; a strong rebounder with a slow, but accurate jump shot. Sometimes we see guys devour inferior competition in college, then get to the pros and look ordinary when faced with the world’s finest. Derrick is better than ordinary, but is he quick enough to guard Nicolas Batum? Is he beefy enough to bang with Serge Ibaka? Fortunately, Minnesota can ease him into these questions and peers like Love and Beasley can help provide the answers he seeks.
When winning’s not an option, an exciting underdog with a white hero to latch onto, a quadruple double threat and a previously post-hype Spanish point guard becomes an acceptable substitute. T’Wolves fans won’t have a lot of team success to celebrate this year, but the individual will be at the forefront many times over.
I know we’re all angry and upset by the league’s despicable handling of the Chris Paul trade today, but like AC Green taught us on his way to setting the NBA’s record for consecutive games played streak (1,192 straight), sometimes we have to swallow our salty tears, put a little activator in our hair and play the damn game. So tonight, in honor a man who never took a game off (except those three games he missed in his second season), I’m going to write about the Phoenix Suns; AC’s team when he broke the record.
The Phoenix Suns have had books written about them, been adored by media and fans, introduced fast break basketball to a generation who grew up with the 90s Knicks and Heat and thought bullying and intimidation was a part of the winning process; their doctors prolonged careers and their cast of characters and fan-friendly style developed something that started as a cult following but grew into full-fledged fandom. We’re all familiar with their legend and the hopes that accompanied their title runs from 2005-07. It was exciting and refreshing, beautiful and fantastic to watch Steve Nash speeding up (not down, he was and still is a one-way player) the court and shattering defensive schemes that had been designed to neutralize him … yet consistently failed. We loved it and witnessed its descent into harsh reality, wilting under the weight of time, strategic ingenuity and bad stinking luck.
But all that’s in the past and we’ve got to talk about where we are now and what the hell we’re doing here. The Suns will likely wave good-bye to a couple of aging wings in Grant Hill (New York-bound?) and Vince Carter (free agency), and probably add Shannon Brown. Barring (league approved) trades, the Suns will keep the majority of last year’s 40-42 team intact. It can’t be a time for optimism in Phoenix. Steve Nash turns 38 in February and despite the sorcery of the Suns physicians, no matter how far and fast Nash can run, time will hunt him down the way it does all of us. Nash is a free agent and at this point, he’s probably worth more to the Suns if he’s wearing a different uniform. It’s time for both parties to embrace or give a stern handshake (I get the feeling Nash is more of a hug guy though) and part ways.
Carter and Hill combined to account for just under 25% of Phoenix’s scoring last year. With Nash acting as a dribbling bodhisattva, life is easier for everyone. If Nash wills you to have points, you will have them, so I don’t anticipate scoring being a huge issue for this team. But again, here I am writing about the Suns and I’m continually drawn back to Nash. His presence as a Phoenix Sun is all encompassing.
OK, I’ll escape the Nash-vortex and acknowledge that the Suns do have a full roster. Marcin Gortat may have been the best value in the mega-player trade last December that sent Turkoglu, Jason Richardson, and Earl Clark to Orlando for Carter, Mickael Pietrus and Gortat. He gives the Suns someone sturdy and rugged to man the paint and he can hold down the fort while Robin Lopez continues to develop. I don’t have any complaints about Pietrus or Jared Dudley. They’re both nice players in the Shane Battier mode in that they can knock down the three, both play strong defense and possess a value structure that’s appropriate for team sports as evidenced by their acceptance of roles outside the spotlight.
And then there’s Channing Frye whose career has refused to follow a predictable path: from All-NBA rookie team in 2006 to an invisible player in Portland in 2009 to potential harnessed in 2011 with Phoenix. I find this interesting mostly because of its implications for all of our lives. Maybe Frye was written off by Portland or maybe it was just a bad fit for everyone (even though Channing loved the city itself). Regardless of the cause of his departure, he joined Phoenix in the summer of 2009 and has experienced his best two seasons as a three-point shooting big man who creates matchup problems. Channing Frye’s Phoenix resurgence (Steve Nash fueled or not) reminds me to keep being inquisitive and continue to try and find congruence between ability and opportunity.
Those are all nice pieces, but they’re all complementary stylists. None of the non-Nash players I just mentioned are capable of elevating this team to anything better than the middle of the pack. Yet somehow the Suns still have nearly $50million on their payroll. Unlike the Hawks who give off a vibe of contentment, I get the feeling that people in Phoenix desperately want to be successful, they’re just not sure if they want to spend the money to do it.
That’s the Suns; still living in the inescapable shadow of a radiant past. And they’ll continue to do so until there’s a willingness from the Suns and Nash to just let go.
For as long as I’ve been following the NBA, the Utah Jazz have been identifiable by the presence of players and a single coach who’ve cultivated a respectable workmanlike ethos. From their ancient leathery coach, Jerry Sloan, the approach flowed toward the blue collar duo of Stockton and Malone and was seamlessly transitioned to a modern-day version in Deron Williams and Carlos Boozer. The Jazz we knew are no more.
The new Jazz are a mishmash of good, but not great players. Their fans go to sleep at night whispering soft prayers to the basketball gods, “Please let this be the year of The Al Jefferson. And maybe if you could see to it that Derrick Favors can become a starter and Enes Kanter can be the real deal; well, it’d kinda cool. ” Regardless of how the basketball gods respond to those requests, big Al’s support system is still young, shallow and somewhat unreliable. That description might sound more applicable to a group of teenagers, but it fits the new Jazz too. Al’s flanked by delicate Devin Harris (averages missing 14 games per year) and Paul Millsap. After that it starts getting lean. It doesn’t look like Andrei Kirilenko is going to re-sign which leaves Gordon Hayward (a tribute to classical Jazz roots), CJ Miles and Raja Bell to fight for the last two starting spots.
This isn’t a squad to inspire fear in the hearts of competitors. Unless Kanter and Favors are able to replicate some Ralph Sampson/Akeem Olajuwon mid-80s type performances, these guys should fall short of the playoffs again. With a group of good players, but no anchor, no Deron or Karl, it’s going to be a challenging climb into the top-eight in the conference. Looking at their opponents last year, they were able to compete with non-playoff teams and Eastern Conference foes, but consistently struggled against inter-conference playoff teams:
Opponent
Games
Wins
Losses
Win%
Vs West Conf Playoff teams
31
10
21
32.3%
Vs Non West Playoff teams
21
11
10
52.4%
Vs East Conf Playoff teams
16
8
8
50.0%
Vs Non East Playoff teams
14
10
4
71.4%
If Jefferson makes the leap to an elite post player (very possible given his skill-set and the lack of quality bigs in the league) and Favors/Kanter/Hayward make significant improvements, the Jazz could leapfrog Denver or New Orleans for one of the last playoff spots; aka lambs to the Mavs/Lakers/Thunder slaughter. It’s not a contending team, but the Jazz have just enough talent to compete for the playoffs and just enough youth to keep fans intrigued by a promising, but undefined future. It’s OK to let go; Karl, John, Deron, Jerry and especially Al insist on it.
The Thunder used to be in Seattle and I live in Seattle, so it seems like a good place to start previewing teams. And if you read my posts during the playoffs last season, you know I had a mostly-healthy fascination with the Thunder and the inexplicable decision making of their sparkplug point guard, Russell Westbrook.
Six months later and I still see Russell as the lynchpin of this organization’s development. They’re one of the few (possibly only) teams that return their entire roster from last year—a team that won its division and made it to the Western Conference finals. Oh, and four of the top seven in their rotation are under 24-years-old. If you’re an Oklahoma City fan, you have every reason to be frothing at the mouth when you think about the potential of this team.
But it goes back to Westbrook. I watched OKC play throughout last season and have heard/read their fans saying that no one should be surprised with Russell’s playoff performance; that’s just Russell being Russell. And to an extent, I agree. His decision making, or lack thereof, has driven Americans batshit crazy since he entered the league in 2008 (he’s started 229 of 246 games in his young career). It’s easy to dismiss his mistakes as a consequence of being a developing youngster learning through failure (the old Jordan way) and all we can do is hope that’s the case. On the surface, Russell may have been as Iverson-esque as he’s been for the duration of his career, but he just did it less efficiently while increasing his volume:
Westbrook Stats
Regular season
Playoffs
Change
Field-goal attempts/game
16.95
20.18
+19%
3pt Field Goal attempts/game
1.26
2.82
+125%
Usage Rate
31.6%
34%
+2.4%
Field-goal Percentage
44.2%
39.4%
-4.8%
PER (performance efficiency rating)
23.6
19.6
-4
eFG% (effective field goal %)
45.4%
41.4%
-4%
TS% (true shooting %)
53.8%
49.9%
-3.9%
Turnovers/game
3.9
4.6
+17.6%
The regular season-to-playoff drop-offs are disturbing and indisputable. Russell’s shot/pass selection was always suspect, but it got worse when it mattered the most. With creative geniuses, we accept the mistakes alongside the eye popping, text-message inspiring tip dunks, but for the 2011 playoffs, we saw both from Russell, just far too many of the turnover/missed shot variety.
This year will be a telling one in the Thunder’s evolving catalog. While the rest of the league’s stars spin off to form super-friend mini all-star clusters, Oklahoma City’s faced with the opposite conundrum: Too many youngsters desperate for individual acceptance; aka too many cooks in the kitchen. In the 80s, this group would’ve stayed together for a decade and won a couple titles at the least. And if Westbrook and Durant were on separate teams, they might be banging down doors to play alongside each other. As it stands though, these guys seem like a break-up waiting to happen. Kevin Durant plus Russell Westbrook plus Serge Ibaka plus James Harden… it’s great to watch, but based on math alone, it doesn’t feel sustainable. Whether our imagined Westbrook versus Durant rivalry come to fruition or Harden’s beard decides to take him to more fertile hardwoods or the salary cap decidesSam Prestijust can’t afford Ibaka; something’s got to give. Even The Beatles broke up once.
On their darkest days, they remain one of the three best teams in the west. Give them a healthy Kendrick Perkins and 66 games to gel and anything less than a conference finals appearance is a letdown. But a little growth and a little “get by with a little help from my friends”, and they’re a contender. Given their youth and what the average 24-year-old is doing at this age, the awesome expectations for this team could be their demise or the sentiment that drives them to unified success.
Dancing With Noah 