Notes, or Sell your soul while it's still worth something

Hello and welcome back. Today, we've got affirmation in the NBA, pain and triumph on the soccer field, and my thoughts on Mike Vick's pet cemetery.

- In a quick editor's note, I've started breaking my posts up with seperate links. If you're looking for something in particular, click on the link at the top of the post and you'll be taken directly to that section. Those links-within-the page are called anchors, which is also the term you use for fat-headed stiffs who weigh down sports networks. Eventually I'll get it so that the entire archives are organized in this way.

- Of course, we begin with robots.

Two AP stories recently appeared on MSNC.com -- one on June 22, the other on June 28 -- that are mistakently reported as seperate news. Oddly enough, they both came out of Boston, and yet they were not combined into one super-story, that should really should be getting play everywhere.

June 22 - Robots to look for life in Arctic
And June 28 - What happens when you hand a 'bot a Taser?

This is it, folks. Live it up, because we've all got a few months left.

The first story explains that we're sending robots to the bottom of the Arctic Ocean to look for life in some hotprings. We plan to someday use robots to look for life on the moons of distant planets. In other terms, we'll be sending these robots about 500 million miles into space, where they'll go through piles of frozen dirt looking for minnow fossils.

That's a bad gig. Apparently, limited benefits on this job. Although if the robots do form a union, it's expected they would endorse Mitt Romney.

So, to the second story. I think this is self-explanatory. The question is, "What happens when you hand a 'bot a Taser?", and the answer is "Probably nothing all that great."

The lead source in that story is John Pike of Globalsecurity.org. Mr. Pike says that in the near future, "you're going to start seeing Robocops, or a Terminator. We may see autonomous robots capable of inflicting lethal force."

First of all, when we're in the development phase of these Robocops, I think I have a volunteer to play the test criminal. "That's right, Mr. Pike. Just pretend to take the old lady's purse, and hopefully your heavily-armed robot is a reasonable fellow."

By the way, how hard would it be for a robot with a taser to wait for the right moment, stick it to some guard's neck and say, "Hey, how about you give me the rest of the tasers?"

And here's how the two stories are actually one story, and it's also how the world ends: one of the robots in the first story meets one of the robots from the second story.

Robot: Check it out. I got a taser.
Robot 2: A taser? I have to go to the bottom of the Arctic, and you get a weapon? Do you think you could get me one?
Robot 3: Well they're sending me to Jupiter to go play in the dirt. Does it have a "KILL" setting?

Don't say I didn't warn you.

- Okay, now some quick notes on the NBA. First, an update on my Grant Hill idea from last month.

June 23 - Notes or Trying to make sense of a bullet hole
"If Hill comes back, can we just make it so that it's not with the Orlando Magic? Phoenix, Dallas...somebody offer him a jersey."

Well that didn't take long. Phoenix signed Hill to a two-year contract. I think it's a good fit for everyone. Hill makes the Suns go one guy deeper, and he can still find the open guy.

Phoenix, meanwhile, gets Hill's leadership. Hopefully Shawn Marion and Amare Stoudemire tip an ear toward Hill. Both of them have expressed at least some willingness to leave Phoenix, and I think Hill can point out the reality here. You can get paid later. You can be the man later. But when you're in a situation where you're trying to build talent, and you finally start to see over the horizon. . . you're only one or five ankle injuries away from never getting your chance. It would be stupid for either of them to split Phoenix until they actually see Steve Nash's back carried away in a garbage bag.

By the way, for all the people taking shots at them on this, this absolutely makes them better. They can now rotate lineups of Nash, Barbosa, Marion, Diaw, Hill, Raja Bell and Stoudemire, where they'll have four passers on the floor with the league's best catcher-and-dunker.

Barring injury or suspension, that's my pick in the Western Conference.

- Now to the ever-worsening case of Mike Vick. And when I say ever-worsening, I mean that it's looking pretty good for him. It's highly unlikely that he'll be indicted for anything, particularly because that would call for someone to snitch on him.

But investigators just found double-digit dog carcasses on the property that was in Vick's name. And I don't care if he gets indicted or not. There's something very, very wrong going on at that place.

Here's who should have more than 10 dead dogs in his yard: a 120 year old dog lover. Everyone else? You'll need to explain that.

And I don't care that this will probably never reach him. One thing that you don't do when your rich and famous buddy puts you up with a property is set up an illegal business without, you know, asking him. My message here goes to all the people who rushed to defend him: make sure you know who you're fighting for. I know you didn't want to believe that Mike Vick was in the wrong. But you'd never met him, and it seems like the critical details in how we should view Mr. Vick are just coming out now, and they have very little to do with his left arm.

After all, there was a time in my life when my first instinct would've been to speak up on behalf of Jason Kidd.

- Now, soccer. I'd heaped about 5,000 tons of praise on the national team. I even went so far as to say, " I am now of the delusional opinion that our second team shouldn't get blown-out by anybody."

I'm not sure if I should get any credit for correctly labelling my own opinion "delusional," but it seems that I was a bit wrong on the Copa America. We lost 4-1 to Argentina, 3-1 to Paraguay, and 1-0 to Columbia, and a number of our players got a "NOT READY" stamp jammed onto their forehead.

The high point in our tournament came on Benny Feilhaber's 40-yard pass that Eddie Johnson ran onto to draw the penalty kick. Then Johnson calmly scored the kick. And that was it. There were a few moments of steely defense, and even fewer offensive-minded moves. But by the time the second half of the Argentina game started, the U.S. looked so travel-weary that they may have travelled to Venezuala by boat.

At about the 60 minute mark, it appeared that they may have rowed the boat.

But when I look at this roster, I see only a handful of players who I think should represent us at the 2010 World Cup: Feilhaber, Johnathan Bornstein, Ricardo Clark, Justin Mapp, Twellman or Johnson (but not both), Demerit or Conrad.

And why am I ready to get rid of the majority of this squad -- which I have since decided is our third team -- just based on this hideous week?

Because after each Copa game, the national team got bumped-off the top story on ussoccer.com by a plucky group of youngsters who were playing about 2,500 miles north of them.

Our under-20 national team played a 1-1 stalemate against Korea in its first group game.

Then Freddy Adu made like Tommy Johnson and agreed to a deal at the crossroads. Freddy left the meeting with boundless skill and no soul, and who are we to judge?

First he terrorized Poland in a 6-1 blowout. He scored three, and that included his
first one. (Seen there slightly underplayed by the French-speaking highlights guy.)

And that goal. . . I tried to sum up Benny Feilhaber's goal in the least modest terms. And Freddy's goal was as good as Benny's Gold Cup winner. And we Americans just don't really score 'em like that.

We could expect an American player to take a swing at a falling ball like Feilhaber, or to turn on a defender and fire like Freddy. But when Feilhaber's shot hung-up in the back of the net, and when Freddy's curler smacked off the inside of the post, my head snapped a little bit and I flinched.

I was not surprised by the trajectory of either shot. But I was stunned when both balls stopped mid-flight because they flew into the goal. Again, we're the Americans, and we're not supposed to score those goals.

As good as Freddy was against Poland, he was equally brilliant against Brazil. He simply could not be stopped with the ball, and all of his teammates were always open, and he himself was always wide open. Appropriately he set up both Josmer Altidore goals, the second one with a perposterous bit of juggling to escape a corner trap.

We won 2-1 against Brazil, and we'll know who we've got in the round of 16 after today. At the moment, Freddy looks like the best player in the tournament, and we look like the best team.

The future is not now. It never is. But it looks closer and closer these days, and by the time it gets here, who cares whether you've got your soul?

- That's all for today. Be careful out there. This is the time of year when renegade weather balloons are known to fall out of the sky.

Back soon with other things. Goodbye.

Notes, or We're taking on water and we're all goin' down

Hello and welcome back. Today: Barry Bonds' home run chase, the Cavs' chances in the NBA Finals, and the lack of secrets in modern sports.

Let's get right into it.

- In baseball news, it's now June. And if the playoffs started tomorrow it'd be pretty weird, because they still start in October. Check back in August for more updates.

Meanwhile, Barry Bonds hit another home run last night. This one was career No. 747 for Barry. The next one will be No. 748, and the one after that should be 749, according to ESPN.com's Pedro Gomez. Then after that, the last number will reset at 0, and the second number will become a 5, which looks like this: 750. I know it can be hard to keep all of this straight, and I commend ESPN for trying to stay on top of this rapidly-developing development.

- Now, to be quite honest, I'm going to take the day off from the NBA Finals. You might find good things written about Game 2, but you won't find them here.

How's this for an exchange though: with Lebron out in the first quarter, Cleveland missed three 3s in a row. San Antonio countered by getting 12 points from five different players. The score went from 16-13 to 28-13, and it was never close after that. That shows how delicate these games are for Cleveland. Mr. James can stack up about a dozen points in the first or fourth quarter -- but not both. If it stays close in Cleveland, they probably win.

But three in a row? Those are long odds, and I don't feel like attaching my name to them.

On a side note, the title to my previous post -- "Notes, or Lebron James is Ricky Davis" -- was a thinly-veiled shot at Chicago Tribune columnist Sam Smith. Smith asserted previously in these playoffs that Lebron James is, as a player, comparable to Vince Carter. The Vince Carter, 28, whom Lebron, 22, had just thoroughly outplayed the previous series.

- Now, for an old-timey thought on modern sports culture. Please wait while I put on my bowler hat and pack my tobacco pipe. Prepare to be regaled.

A few days ago, Gilbert Arenas said he would opt out of his contract after the upcoming season. This joined Kobe Bryant's announcement/retraction of his desire to leave Los Angeles. Now, if I had my choice, 10 times out of 10 I'd hang with Gil. (That hat -- my God, what a hat.) And Arenas' decision makes sense on a financial and a competitive level, while Kobe's... well, I've dealt with that.

But what I don't like about Gilbert's announcement was just that -- it was an announcement. Before a season even began, Gil cast a shadow of doubt over his future in Washington, and he made this shadow painfully visible to the public.

The great line came from Otto Von Bismarck: "To retain respect for sausages and laws, one must not watch them in the making."

I happened to spend my formative years in Bismarck. And I'm smelling sausage.

Arenas and Kobe are a part of the continuing Linda Tripp-ification of our culture. It seems that almost everyone in America is willing to give out any information they have into a microphone, with or without solicitation. We'll sell out everything we've got, including our own dignity, as long as we can get the word out.

We have become a culture of leakers.

Kobe himself was furious at a "Lakers insider" who alleged that Kobe had run Shaq out of town. How do you like that? A leaker, angry at a leaker -- and a Laker leaker, no less. (You want a leak? Here's a damn leak.)

They do this stuff across the pond in the soccer world, but it's much, much different. The "rumor mill" that surrounds the English, Italian, and Spanish leagues -- particularly the big teams -- is the stuff of tabloids. There are dozens of websites that take hundreds of tips from anyone who claims to have any idea of what player will be bought by what team.

Literally, these tips tend to read like this: "My uncle is a garbage man in London, and he just found an envelope that had been sent by (club) to (player), so my uncle thinks that's where he's headed."

Honestly, they're all like that. And the British press run their own rumors around, and no one takes anything very seriously until they see ink on paper. Because they're just cartoon rumors -- people laugh out loud at most of them.

But that's not how it works here. Our rumors? Our leakers? They tend to be right. They actually release inside information for very little personal gain. (Except for these gentlemen.) For the most part, we are leaking just to leak.

Today, each of the major three sports in America is almost completely transparent. Rarely is a deal done or a move made that catches anyone by surprise. No idea that starts in a front office or locker room stays there.

Whereas years ago, fans saw only the end product of professional sports, we now get to see it all before it gets ground up with lots of fat and spice and called sports.

And now that I get a good look at it as it rolls down the assembly line, I'm seeing a lot of hoof.

And now I'll take off the bowler hat, I'll cue the gospel choir, and I'll stand at the lectern for a moment and preach. You leak bad, unfair or dangerous things that are going on at your workplace or in your apartment building. You leak the names of serial killers and bank robbers. You don't leak which starters the Yankees are looking at, you loser.

Okay, enough preaching.

I can't really blame Gilbert Arenas for leaking, I can't blame Samuel Eto'o. I can't even blame Kobe. Well, okay, I can blame Kobe.

But we are all to blame. We've created this culture, or at least allowed it. We all leak, or would leak, and if nothing else -- if in no other way than knowing something we probably shouldn't -- we all benefit from those leaks.

And if we don't stop soon, we'll all be in the water.

So now, a quick and vital Editor's Note, and one that I hope to honor as long as I possibly can.

- Don't leak to me. I don't want to hear it. I'll be just fine getting the news when it actually becomes news. If something is going to happen tomorrow, I'll deal with it then.

Unless it's a flood, or lotto numbers, in which case I can be reached at verbal_kint_187@hotmail.com.

That'll do it.

Good day.

Notes, or Lebron James is Ricky Davis

Hello all. Today, my new job offer, Game 1 of the NBA Finals, and in soccer news, the Gold Cup gets underway.

Let's get right to it.

- First, you'll see I re-titled all of my "Notes" entries. It just become a few too many, and I myself could hardly navigate among them. The headlines will just feature on one part of the post, though I will continue to cover multiple topics in individual posts. That's where the labels come in. I think the titles are prIetty much self-explanatory. "Battlefield girth" refers to how incredibly long that post became. And also, you can't make a reference to Battlefield Earth that's not funny. Not even this.

- Okay, now I need to address something. Some of you may have heard about this already. I, Mike Mullen, have been offered a very important job. And it looks like I'm going to take it. Though I'm not sure why.

I know this raises a lot of questions for you.

"But Mike, why didn't you ever mention that you held that kind of a position?" Look, I was in charge of the Navy. I'm not trying to downplay it, but, come on - this is the NBA playoffs, and I'm not going to lose readers just going on about my aircraft carriers.

"Mike, you said you were 20. You don't look 20." If there's anything more stressful than managing a branch of the armed forces, it's sports blogging. I've been aging rapidly since the NCAA tournament started. And then in my off hours, I'm in charge of the entire U.S. Navy? Come on. We're not fighting a lot in the water right now, but these aren't exactly rowboats out there.

"Mike, why do you want this job?" I'm not really sure. It seems like a fall-guy kind of job. If we get things under control in Iraq, all the credit's going to go the generals on the field. And that might be the right thing, but if things go poorly -- and how could they not? -- I get some blame, and I get tossed out of office in a couple years. And then what do I got? The lecture circuit? But again, it looks like I'm going to take it.

And finally, "Given your pending appointment as the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, will you continue to do your sports blog?" I don't see why not.

- All right, just a few very quick thoughts on Lebron James. He had a bad Game 1, and Cleveland only scored 76 points. It seemed oddly reminiscent of Game 1 against Detroit, where Lebron struggled and Cleveland scored only - you guessed it - 76 points. So Lebron, having just survived that series against a battle-tested team, knows that a series does not pivot on its first game. But Game 2...

Cleveland has lost only one game at home in these playoffs, and that was the Game 5 shocker against New Jersey. Cleveland then followed that by storming out to an early lead in New Jersey before letting the Nets come all the way back in the fourth quarter. But after New Jersey got to within one point, Lebron got Cleveland from 67 points up to 86 over six minutes, and that was all it took.

That sounds familiar.

6-3-07, "Notes, or Kobe Bryant gets what he wants"
"And Lebron found a second wind in a five-minute span in the fourth quarter, when he got them from 77 points to 92. And that was all it took."

In the clinching games of the last two series, Lebron has helped pile-up a bunch of points -- when it seemed like no one had it going -- and made his team win the game.

This feels a bit like last year's Finals, where the Heat had by far the best player on the floor - Wade - and then Dallas might have had second, third, and fourth. (Nowitzki, Howard, and Terry.) But nearly every time it mattered, Wade had the ball in his hands and made something happen. That left it up to his teammates to get a few, even just a couple stops in the closing minutes. Defense and hustle make for a good combination with a single great player.

Let me remind you that Malik Rose, James Posey, and Samaki Walker have all won NBA championships in the last few years. Not one of those guys has any recognizable skill other than "tall." Can you imagine those three playing a game of HORSE? You'd send them out on a nice summer afternoon, and then come see who won in November.

If Cleveland can muck up the game enough, and is only losing by 5 or 8 points, and Varejao and Gooden can make a couple plays... Cleveland can win Game 2, or even a Game 6.

Now, one note on Lebron. I remember when he was a rookie, and I think he played a Christmas day game against Tracy McGrady's Magic. At one point, T-Mac was guarding Lebron and knew that the shot clock was winding down. McGrady got right up on Lebron, who had the ball some 20 feet from the hoop. McGrady jumped just as Lebron jumped, and had his hand up to block the shot. But Lebron simply shot -- shot, not threw -- the ball way up... the ball left the screen... then splashed back down and in to beat the clock.

I can't find a clip of that, but I realized at that point -- having already seen Lebron's dunks and passes -- that nothing was impossible for this kid. (Nothing.)

- Also, our men's national team has won five games this year, and tied the other. After a snoozer finished 0-0 against Guatemala in March, we beat their "defense first, defense second" strategy on Thursday on a goal from Clint Dempsey for a 1-0 result in our first pool game of the Gold Cup. I'll have to get to Dempsey at some later date, but one person is demanding that I say something about him: Bob Bradley. The rookie U.S. coach has gotten the team to show up five out of six games, and let's make clear that those are his first six games as coach. Seems like a good sign for Bob. (Not so much this guy.)

They're not just winning. They're scoring good goals, they're scoring on penalties and free kicks, and they are not just watching the other team on defense. They're taking some risks, they're beating the other team to loose balls and they tend to look like they might win the game.

They play again in about an hour, meeting Trinidad and Tobago in their second game of the Gold Cup.

So a quick programming note on where to find the game: you're going to have to get Fox Soccer Channel. I should make it clear then, that the Gold Cup is an international tournament. And not only are these games on during reasonable broadcast times, they're being played here, on American soil.

Not only did ESPN not buy the rights to these games, it let an optional, super-bundled-400 channel cable station beat it out. Now I don't get the Fox Soccer Channel, so when the Guatemala game started, I checked-in with the live blog on the ussoccer website. After the game was over, ESPN.com picked-up the AP story, and I kept checking back to the site for the highlights. At least, you know, they'd put up Dempsey's goal.

Well, you can go looking right now, and the only place you're going to find it is youtube.

You got big fat pockets, ESPN. Next time, talk to the national team. Try to get it so these games don't run up against the NBA Finals and the Belmont Stakes. Then reach into your pockets, and buy some coverage of a sport that isn't three year old poker. I know they've done very well lately, but there's some part of me that would be happy if they lost a ton of money on their commitments to the Hey What's With the Walls League and the National Turn Left Association. Instead, I'm afraid these things will play out well for them, and I'll have to leave this country for good after some time.

More on that next time. I mean it.

Now, where did I put the keys to the U.S.S. Louisville?

I am not Lebron James

Here now, a reprint of my classic Lebron column from high school. That's right folks - I was in high school at the same time as Lebron. He's more than a full year my senior.

This means that, with me at 20 years and 10 months, I still have an outside shot of getting Lebron James to buy me beer. I admit it's unlikely, but Lebron can let me know if he's free. Or at least Scott Pollard.

I'm re-posting this because it's interesting for me to look back at how I used to write. This would've been my third or fourth column, probably, and other than the writing and the jokes, I kind of like it. I'm also proud of this column because - although I think I still won the award - the column was criticized at my state journalism conference for being "too hip." That's what happens when you live in North Dakota and you print the words "street cred."

If you want the fresh stuff, feel free to scroll down past this.

Here goes.


I am not Lebron James

He's in high school. I'm in high school.
He drives a chromed-out silver Hummer valued at $55,000. I drive a dirty cream-colored '88 Ford Tempo that hums, valued at $55.
He's been on the cover of Sports Illustrated. I'm a subscriber.
He has a strict no-autographs-in-school policy. So do I.
His is by choice.
If you haven't figured it out, the "he" in question is Lebron James--that's 'Bron or Bronnie if you're on his short list (as Shaq and Michael Jordan are) and King James if you're not.
James is the next odds-on big thing in basketball. He's 6'7" and 215, all smooth muscle and basketball IQ, with a vertical that makes Kobe green. He's MJ with tats and street cred, and this year he's probably gotten more headlines than the man himself.
This included the recent episode in which James was barred from competition for receiving throwback jerseys as gifts, then reinstated only days later.
Thanks to SI and ESPN the magazine covers and the "can't-miss" scouting reports, James has become a household name--and he hasn't even been in most households. St. Vincent-St. Mary's, a prep school in Ohio, did play a couple of games on ESPN 2, and others have been featured on Pay-Per-View.
Did I mention he's 17?
People have a problem with this. They say the way his ego is being coddled and stroked by pundits and scouts and fans is bad. It reflects poorly on society. We're putting too much pressure on the kid.
No, it may not be the best scenario for a young man like James to be glorified before he can buy a pack of smokes and vote. He was brought up without a real father figure, and people think that will hurt him when he's faced with fame's excess of women and drugs and opportunities for self-destruction. (See: Len Bias.)
But if people think that instant fame is going to be a bad thing for Lebron, they need to take a second look at the context in which he's succeeding. His game is more than a window out of the projects: It's an elevator to a window to a rocket launcher out of the projects. This is a kid whose family gets by on welfare checks, whose dad split too soon to mean much, whose chances are limited by the color of his skin.
Where would Lebron be without his game?
Imagine if Lebron grew up in Wilton, and Rich Hovland recruited him to come play for us. Bismarck would become a hoops hotbed--we'd probably be though of as having Canada's best basketball program.
Would you question the morality of Lebron's exploitation if he was from Bismarck? Or would you buy a ticket every Friday?
I don't blame the NBA and its coaches and scouts for Lebron's early stardom, either. It's their job to find the best possible players and put the ball in their hands, regardless of age and even honorability. When I watch a pro game, I think "Are these the best 10 basketball players that these teams could find for me?", not, "What can my child learn from a man like Rasheed Wallace?"
The best indication I have that his head is in the right place is that we've seen his love for the game and competition--the one aspect that set Larry, and then Michael, and now Kobe above the rest of their class.
When Lebron got nailed with the free throwbacks, he could've let it stand. He could've signed a $25 million contract with Nike the next day and started making commercials in time for the All-Star game.
Instead he worked to be reinstated by the Ohio athletic commission, and came away with a slap on the wrist and a new lease on his amateur career.
Two nights later, Lebron reminded everyone why they really care and dropped a highlight reel 52, once more a man among boys.
Thank God. We were starting to lose sight of what this was all about--a kid and his game.

Notes, or Kobe Bryant gets what he wants

Hello. Today: the Cavs reach the NBA Finals, and Kobe Bryant asks for it. But we begin with rage.

I can say now that I've survived the most frustrating night of my technological life. And I'm not a tech guy, really. I try to do really simple things with my computer. I want to use a wireless connection to receive e-mail, get news and sports, and download music and podcasts. And over the course of four hours last night I found that I was completely unable to do any of these things, using a total of two laptops and a desktop computer.

This is how the world will end folks. Not directly, not like the internet will somehow rise up and ovetake us someday. But some relatively powerful leader, in a country that may even normally be quite friendly, will be trying to bid on a set of golf clubs late one night, because what the Hell else does he have to do? And suddenly his connection will cut out.

Then, he'll try and listen to some music, just to relax, only to discover that all, yes all of his music has completely disappeared. And while he's trying to figure these things out, his computer, now virus-stricken, will begin to move about as quickly as a triple-amputee tortoise.

That's how World War III starts, folks. That's when, if you have the option, you say, "Igor," or "Sven, get me ze nuclear codes."

Needless to say, I'm a little burnt up. Let me give you an example of my mood last night.

My girlfriend and I live in a nice little duplex, 50 feet away from some raliroad tracks. We and our neighbor lock our inside back and front doors, but not the outside back door. Now, the outside back door gives access to the stairs to our basement. We leave a light on in the basement. But at night, you can't help but thinking that some fugitive mental patient has just hopped a train and decided to hide out in our basement until we come down looking for a sock. The basement where the previous renters conveniently left a table saw, you know, just in case said escapee feels like cutting me into a few pieces.

Put it this way: my girlfriend won't go down there at night. I will, but I always have to reassure myself: "There's nobody down here." And then my second thought is, "Well, I guess it would only have to happen once, and I'd be in a lot of trouble."

But last night I marched downstairs for a T-shirt without hesitation. My thinking was whatever was down there wanted no part of me. That's how pissed off I was.

I wrote previously about how Isaiah, Michael and Kobe's great teams seemed at times to be driven by fear, whereas Magic, Larry, D-Wade and Steve Nash inspired their teams with joy.

Although I've certainly tapped into this resource once or twice before, it probably hasn't been to this extent. If my words are most often drawn from the pleasure I get from spouting off about this or that, then today they come directly from fury. Like B.J. Armstrong and Will Perdue, these words are inspired by the fear of what I might do to them if they don't come through for me.

Whew. All right, breathe Mike. Let's get the easy stuff out of the way.

- In an editorial note, I should point out that I've made a few changes to the site. I started labelling my posts, so people can sort through what they want. You'll notice that almost all of my entries have multiple labels. That's just how I write. Look for dashes ("-") to set off different subjects, and happy hunting.

I think the labels are pretty self-explanatory. "Old Stuff," are things I wrote in high school, and "Self Serving Crap," could really apply to anything I've written - or done - in the last four years.

- Another editor's note: the soccer picture that I posted a few entries down - "Notes" for May 21 - had to be changed when the one I was using disappeared. Apparently, not only did the people at Oral Roberts not care about me using the picture, they didn't even care that it existed. Instead I got a bunch of famous guys in there now, which is fine, because it still proves my point. Feel free to check it out.

- I didn't want to go too far the other day on Lebron, because, again, I don't like to put too much weight into one game. And if anyone was due for a letdown, it was him, after he not only scored every point for Cleveland in the last 20 minutes of Game 5, he seemed to almost take every dribble. Indeed there was a letdown, but Detroit countered it with a meltdown, and Daniel Gibson hit his wide open shots.

And Lebron found a second wind in a five-minute span in the fourth quarter, when he got them from 77 points to 92. And that was all it took.

My awful, overblown Finals analysis will come later. But I can tell you that to honor Lebron's first trip, I'll publish something I wrote about Mr. Rev. Dr. King James while I was in high school. So enjoy.

- Now, because this is what he wants, I'll talk about Kobe Bryant.

And don't you get fooled into thinking that this is coincidence. Don't think that Kobe doesn't realize that by pulling this crap right now that he's stealing the playoff's thunder.

Let me run your through something. Let's go back to the 2002-03 playoffs, where the Lakers got knocked out by eventual champion San Antonio. During that offseason, Kobe was accused of rape, and instantly became the number one and number two story on the news cycle. He got way more coverage that offseason than any player ever gets during the NBA Finals. Then during the preseason he and Shaq traded childish exchanges through the media.

Then during the season, Kobe played with Shaq, Karl Malone, and Gary Payton. By the time Kobe retires, that team will statistically be the most talented team ever assembled.

And all the while, Kobe's rape case carried on, and as damaging evidence about the victim was leaked, public opinion turned in Kobe's favor. So now, not only was Kobe the most high-profile player on the most high-profile team, not only was he living in a city of four million people who by and large still loved him, but he wasn't even necessarily hated or villified anymore. Now, he was just hugely famous.

Now, anyone who has decent insight into Kobe Bryant - via The Last Season, for example - knows what this kind of attention might do to a young fellow like Kobe. He might, being someone who drove Phil Jackson to see a narcissism-specialist therapist, he might really embrace that level of fame.

And when that season ended, the Kobe saga went on. Phil left, Shaq left. And Kobe himself toyed with his free agency, dragging it out as long as possible before finally resigning.

Then came the 2004-05 season, which, thanks mostly to Rudy Tomjanovich's cancer, was a throwaway. So last year, with Kobe's past infamy and mega-fame somewhat forgotten...

He threw up 45 points a game for a month, including historic flame-throwing nights against Dallas and then, that thing in Toronto.

I might someday look stupid on this, but I don't think we'll ever, ever see an 81 on a statsheet again. Unless somebody really pisses off Gilbert Arenas. But I don't even think Arenas has that in him. Fifty, even 60... these are special numbers, accomplishments, the kind of thing you can put in your pocket.

But 81? That's a decision. It was a mission to humiliate the Toronto Raptors -- and a cold-blooded one at that. The Lakers won that game by 22. They needed 65 of those points, 70 at most. That means some of those points were just for Kobe.

Michael Jordan, who a lot of people accused of being less-than-selfless in his younger years, scored 55 or more points nine times in his career. Only one of those games did the Bulls win by more than 10 points. Three of those games, Chicago won by only two points. Basically, Chicago needed all of those points.

Kobe, meanwhile, has hit for 55-plus points in Lakers wins of 11, 14, 18, 22, and 39 points. In short, he was doing this because he wanted to. And that vindictive quality is something that even MJ had outgrown by the time he was 28.

Bryant is an interesting study because he seems so consumed, already, with his place in history. I think he knows that he is physically Michael Jordan's equal. And the fact that his competitive nature equals MJs basically puts him in a two-person category. So I can only assume that what drives him at this point is his obssession with where he stands in that category.

That's right, Kobe wants to be better than Michael Jeffery Jordan. The player we all said, "Well, we'll never see another of him." Someone came along the very next generation, ignored all of that, and set out to be even better. And there's probably something admirable in that.

But he's not better. He's never been as good at working with his teammates. And you never saw Jordan approach five or six 3-point attempts per game, not even when he was a kid.

Moreover, they ran different locker rooms. According to Phil, Scottie Pippen told No. 23 at one point, "I can't do it without you Michael." And Jordan cried.

Kobe has turned his back on more good players than Michael ever even played with.

But, knowing that he's only 28, and knowing what Michael did at 32, 33, and 34... for Kobe to come out a few days ago and tell Stephen A. Smith that he wanted to be traded, demanded, said that there was no other option... Listen Kobe, your young team will get older. (Andrew Bynum is only 19, and he outrebounded Kevin Garnett and Ben Wallace, head-to-head, during his first month in the league.) Another veteran will come out to LA, just to play with you, and if you want, Jerry West can sit in the owner's box.

But for Kobe to come out later that same day, and change his mind? That can only mean that Kobe is so used to turmoil - seems to welcome it, even - that for him to throw this out and take it back in one day is no big deal.

Time now for my real point. The real point is that Kobe said these things to radio reporters, and not someone in the Lakers' front office. Kobe Bryant, 28, is so thrilled to hear his own voice and see his own name in print that sometimes he doesn't even care what comes after it.

That'll be all for today.

Back soon with some more new stuff.

Notes, or Lebron James: Nike logo designer

Hello.

Well, to lead off, I may have been a little bit right in asking people to back off the Lebron critcism a bit.

Maybe.

Unfortunately, my point is lost though. I wanted people to be patient, to give Lebron some time before we pass judgment. But Lebron went out and did what he did, and rendered my point completely moot.

I was asking his critics to shut up. Lebron made them shut up.

And I hope that not only did they shut up, but ate their words as well. I hope that every columnist, every blogger, every bar patron who said, "This kid just don't got it," I hope they all had to go back, tail between their legs, and say, "Boy, was I way wrong on this guy."

But I know that most of them didn't. Instead, they came out and said, "See, this is what I've been waiting for."

Oh, no no no, my friend. You don't wait for something like Lebron's Game 5. You don't ask someone to do that. How do you request something you've never seen before?

Now, I'm not going to do much Game 5 analysis. That's mostly because there have been a ton of words written about that game, and none of them do it justice. No hyperbole is too much.

I'm not going to break down Lebron's late efforts, mostly because they were new to me. You just don't see clutch dunks and game-winning layups. It's hard to analyze.

It's like when "The Wizard of Oz" hit theaters. If you had never seen a color movie before, and someone asked you to describe what it was like when they showed the scenes in Oz, what would you say?

Well I think for a lot of people, this was like that. Game 5 was our trip to Oz.

By the way, last year, everybody killed the Wizards for letting Lebron go baseline for a layup to win. First of all, Lebron caught an inbound pass, changed directions, tight-roped the out of bounds and got to the rim. There aren't three teams in the league who could've stopped that move.

And besides, here he was against the rough-and-tough Pistons, watching the same thing happen to them. So enough with the "You gotta' get a body on him," "You gotta' stay in front of him." Really? What do you think they were saying in the Pistons' huddle: "Watch Varejao?"

Look, they wanted to get a body on him. They wanted to foul. "No layups." Whatever. Sometimes you just can't do what you want to do.

When Ladanian Tomlinson is torching some NFL team, the coach is on the sideline saying, "Wrap him up! Put him on his ass!" Oh, really coach? We'll try that next time out. If it was that easy, if you could just decide to do something and then do it, we'd all go pro.

Now, my other quick insight, and this one has nothing to do with "scoring the basketball," as several jackass analysts would refer to it.

Late in the first overtime, Varejao fouled Rasheed Wallace on a shot with 30 seconds left with the Cavs up 100-96. It was a disaster of a foul, as it meant Detroit could get another possession and tie the game. (They did, and they did.)

But after Varejao's foul, Lebron didn't frown. He didn't put his palms up and go, "Why'd you foul?" And he didn't even slap Varejao's ass and go, "It's okay."

Lebron James, the coolest cat on the floor, walked over and hugged him. I don't know what he said during that embrace. But I would imagine it meant a lot to the frizzy Brazilian.

You want to talk about on-court awareness? This was more than basketball. This was psychology: Lebron knowing what this particular player, from this region of the world, making this giant mistake - he knew exactly what that guy needed. And Lebron knew that he would need this guy later, and would need him to be going full-bore.

And maybe - and this is what I hope - maybe it wasn't even psychology. It may have been out-and-out friendship.

But either way, it worked. Because, although the ESPN play-by-play didn't show it, I thought - and had it confirmed by others who watched the game - that Varejao got a finger on Billups' last-second shot. Just enough to kill the spin, and make it bounce off instead of in.

Now I don't know, nor will I ever, whether Varejao makes that play if Lebron doesn't hug him and say what he said. But I do know that these are two guys who like each other, and that they want to play together for a long time, and that Varejao likes Lebron for more than just his quick first step.

I think it's only a smart and caring player who hugs Varejao in that moment. Definitely Magic and Nash, maybe Bird... but this guy? Probably not.

One last thought. Although I've proven I can't take an action shot to save my life, I know a good photo when I see one. And when Lebron drove and jumped and brought the ball between his knees, I instantly knew that it would become an iconic image. A defender on each side of him, and two more behind him. And the good folks at Deadspin were smart enough to blow it up the next day.

Now, if I may make a bold prediction. We all know the Nike Jumpman logo.

I think you see where I'm going. If I had any ambition, I'd photoshop the Lebron picture, call Nike, and sell the image for $50 million. But instead I'll be lazy and just suggest it: trace Lebron in that picture, make him grey, make the rest of it black, and put it on some shoes and T-shirts.

More to come, perhaps even tonight...

Until then.

Notes, or A bunch of old men are yelling about a kid

Hello. Today we'll look at Utah's meaningless Game 3 win, and I ask everyone to leave Lebron James alone.

Now, for my minute-by-minute breakdown of the Champions' League Final. Okay, I'm kidding.

But again, in my defense, I didn't get to see any good soccer for months. And that's my sport. Believe me, if you took Peter Gammons off baseball for a couple months, then put him back on for the World Series, he could give you 5,000 words on the condition of the first baseman's glove.

I kind of took the weekend off, but I'm back with just a couple notes, and a preview of what I'll be looking at next.

- First, to the NBA playoffs. A lot of people got really, really charged-up by Utah's Game 3 win over the Spurs. And not just the fact that they won, but the way they won.

The Duncan-like effort of Boozer, the ascendance of Deron Williams, Ginobli-Finley-Barry going cold, Duncan's offensive woes and foul trouble.

People are raving. After that win, the Jazz fans flooded the streets and partied until 11:00 p.m.

Look, Deron Williams is a great talent. I see the J-Kidd comparison, because they're both big strong point guards. But Kidd is faster, and a better passer, while Williams seems to have developed a unique talent, where he stands 15 or 20 feet away from the hoop and actually just throws the ball directly into the basket. Too bad Kidd never learned this skill. Hopefully Deron never learns some of Jason's other interests.

I don't want to belittle this win. I don't.

But here's who doesn't think Game 3 was such a big deal: the Spurs.

Their core players have been through the fire over and over again, and they know that the only "big" wins come in Game 7. A two-point win is the same as a 20-point win, except a 20-point win against a great team only leaves that great team really pissed off.

The Spurs rely on their ball movement to get to their shooters, and their shooters missed. There's no systematic problem here - sometimes you go cold. Their misses got contagious here, just like makes can get contagious, and just like they will in Game 4 tonight. And the Spurs will win in five games.

By the way I like Utah. I wish they would win. But my head, still furious with my heart about taking Phoenix, will be making the rest of my playoff picks.

- Now, to Cleveland-Detroit.

For the purposes of this blog, uh, forget Detroit. I've mentioned them in passing once or twice. They do what they do, they're very workmanlike and professional, and I respect them. But there's nothing about them that I really root for. I'll go into this in better detail at some later date, but the Pistons - like several soccer teams - are not a team that I like. But I like the idea of the Pistons. 'Sheed, Prince, Billups, Hamilton, C-Webb... I'm not drawn to them as a group, but I like knowing that they're out there.

Much easier to pull for are the Cavs.

Larry Hughes and Zydrunas Ilgauskas have recently suffered unimaginable tragedies - Hughes, Z - and neither of them seems particularly dislikable, though they probably have liscence to be. Then there's Varaejo, who every opponent hates to play against and his teammates love to play with, and Sasha Pavlovic. Sasha has been getting better and better as the year went on, and if you missed their series against New Jersey - and you did - he had a full-on Tayshaun Prince moment in Game 1.

By the way, Pavlovic is from the former Yugoslavia. So, while he seems like a really nice guy... just don't say anything bad about him, okay? Who knows who this guy knows.

Now, to Mr. Dr. Rev. Lebron James. He is quickly developing into the most interesting American sports figure not named Barry Bonds. But while Bonds is completely self-absorbed and hateful to the media, Lebron is interesting because he's exactly the opposite.

He seems totally accessible, funny, bright...

I might have said this once here before, but it's worth repeating. A good friend of mine thinks that many of the best athletes, in all sports, are either so dumb or so arrogant that they don't know any better than to perform in the clutch. The immensity of the moment either doesn't occur to them, or it does occur to them, and they know that they'll rise to it because they know that they are the greatest talent in their sport - even when they're not.

It's an interesting theory, and I believe it to a degree. But Lebron seems to be neither of those things. He's not dumb. And, looking at the skill set that he has, for Lebron to overstate his ability, for him to be arrogant... he would basically have to tell all of his teammates and coaches, "Don't talk to me, I am Lebron James. Don't even look at me." But that's not the case.

With five seconds left in Game 1, Lebron infamously passed-off to Donyell Marshall, giving Marshall a shot for the win instead of going for the tie on his own. Earlier, with 15 seconds left, he dished-off to Big Z for a wide-open 20-footer. Marshall and Ilgauskas missed, each of them shooting from their favorite spots on the floor. (In Game 6 against New Jersey, Marshall hit four threes from the corner.)

Lebron got crushed by more than a few people for these decisions. How could he not take the last shot? This is his team! I want him to be Michael Jordan! Now!

By the way, we seem to remember MJ at the end of his career, where he - and his team - seemed to hit EVERY big shot, and make EVERY big play down the stretch. And that's why he goes down as the greatest - because it never really worked like that for anyone before him, at least not as often.

But I know that when MJ was younger, that wasn't the case. I know this because they didn't win 82 games a year and they didn't win the NBA Finals every year.

But back to Lebron. One of the things people held against him was that Marshall admitted post-game that he wasn't ready for the shot, because the play was drawn up for Lebron. Donny's standing in his favorite spot, sees his guy leave him, sees the best passer under 25 since Magic Johnson with the ball, and it doesn't occur to him that he might get the ball. And this is Lebron's fault?

And I don't want to be too harsh on Marshall, nor Big Z. They got their shots, they missed, you move on.

But after Lebron got nailed, Game 2 came down to the identical situation. Same score, even.

And Lebron drives, and he spins, and Tay Prince collapses in, and as Lebron spins he must have seen - and felt - that there, in the same corner, was Donny Marshall.

And if Mr. Dr. Rev. James was too dumb or too arrogant to care, he does the same thing as Game 1 and passes to the open player. Instead, he spins and shoots a highly-contested shot. He misses, and there's a part of me that believes he missed because he was psyched-out by the idea that while he was taking a contested shot, his open teammate was sitting in the corner.

But he's not that guy. Apparently, Lebron's on-court awareness is nearly equalled by his off-court awareness. (Although he obviously has a punk agent.) Simply put, Lebron reads his clips. He knows people are talking about him out there, and he seems genuinely concerned what they're saying. So he did what everyone screamed he should do, he forced a shot, and it didn't go down.

So I'm going to ask everyone in this disgusting news-analysis-replay-replay-replay-analysis-replay-final judgment-society to do something that, I'm sure, is impossible: shut up. Leave this damn kid alone. He's not Michael. He's not Bird. He's not Magic, though that's a closer comparison.

He's got a few things about him that will remind you of each of those players, but he's not any of them, and we didn't quite know who those players were until they retired.

But what those guys got was attention. Everybody watched them, wanted to see what they could do, and then appreciated them for what they were. Oh, fans booed when they were on the road. But after the game was over, they backed-off.

None of those three had to face the 24-hour news cycle, the 24-hour sports news cycle, the blogosphere, 15 columnists on ESPN.com and 50 more on the national circuit. We are a bored country, and when someone underperforms, we want to see them cut into ribbons by midnight, and if nothing new happens tomorrow, just keep cutting until there's nothing left.

Sam Smith of the Chicago Tribune wrote a book called "The Jordan Rules," which chronicled MJ's struggle to get past Isaiah Thomas's Pistons. Finally, with a much-improved roster, Mike overcomes them. And Sam writes a book, and I'm happy that he did it.

But I wish that Sam had, you know, read his book. Especially before he recently said that Lebron James is less like Mike-Magic-Larry, and more like, and I'm quoting here, "Vince Carter." I'm sure other, dumber columnists said worse things.

Now, if you're too dumb or too arrogant for any of that to sink in, then you're fine. But if you're Lebron...

Well, thank God he hit a "NO WAY" fadeaway 3-pointer and a stop-on-a-dime-and-twist jumper to win Game 3. Otherwise, Lebron would have been so far inside his own head that all he could see was grey matter.

Back off, everybody. Before we decide who this kid is or isn't, let's see game four.

Of the 2010 NBA Finals.

That'll do. Back soon with my new thoughts on athletes and drugs.

Good day.

Notes, or Just gun

Hello.

Coming up, the NBA playoffs, a couple leftover thoughts, and one of the strangest things I've ever heard.

First, a couple corrections.

- In the second graph of the last "Notes," I wrote "lately-roped-off," which was a case of over-hyphenation, which I've been guilty of once-or-twice before.

- My baseball paragraph should have included the sentence, "Jason Giambi used them, too, and is not a dick."

- I wrote last time about how one of the potential youtube home movie entrepeneurs is named "smosh." Unfortunately, that was correct.


Okay, now to the crazy thing, which I'm not going to make you wait for.

I learned from the Animal Planet the other day that there is a tiny parasite that invades the brain of ants and takes over. The ant acts erratically for some time, and eventually finds a blade of grass, which it bites and holds onto. It may do this for as many as eight days, until it is eaten by a passing rabbit. At this point the ant ceases to be, but the parasite takes root inside the rabbit. Its eggs pass through the rabbit, whereupon they are picked-up by snails. Stay with me. The snails coat the eggs in slime, cough them up, and another ant comes along and eats that.

Do you actually believe any of that? It was Animal Planet, so I wanted to believe it, but how could there be something like that out there and I never learned it? I think something like that should come up-front with a high school education. We should all be aware if that kind of thing is happening on our planet.

Okay, now to the NBA, where I've got a lot to say.

First, Chicago and Golden State went out. Let's take the easy one first.

- Chicago and Detroit are the same team. They've got dynamic guards who can score, experienced muscle down low, and a swing man that can spark, and even take over a game for short bursts. But in every matchup - Hamilton-Billups v. Hinrich-Gordon, McDyess-Wallace-Webber v. Wallace-Brown, Prince-Deng - in all of them, Detroit is better. Chicago winning Game five was so incredible because it was so odd. I don't have Detroit losing another home game until the Finals.

- Now, to Golden State. And I should mention Utah here, and I will, but somehow Golden State seems like the story here. When the Warriors went up 3-1 on Dallas, a large portion of the sports media adopted Golden State as their own. I was not a part of this movement. The Warriors home page today looks like this:

"Another Magical Oakland Night"
-ESPN The Magazine

"Simple and Fearless"
-Sports Illustrated

"Warriors Fever Spreading Fast"
- San Jose Mercury News

"This is the game I wanted to invent"
- Dr. James Naismith

"I don't recall any of their games"
- Alberto Gonzales

Okay, the last two I made up, but, that's my evidence. The picture on the intro page shows two huge fireballs shooting up off the court in Oakland, which we can assume were started by Matt Barnes and Stephen Jackson, who are totally insane as soon as the game tips off, and sometimes before or after.

By the way, SI, it's easier to be "Fearless" when Stephen Jackson is packin' heat.

Others praised Don Nelson as a basketball genius. I was not one of them. But David Dupree and Bob Ryan were.

First, to Nelson, I don't know whether or not he's a genius. I know I loved watching his Dallas teams, and rooted for them. But - and he was general manager at the time - I can see now that the all-offense teams he put together were just ridiculous. Fun to watch, but, come on. Nash, Finley, Nowitzki, Antawn Jamison, Antoine Walker, Nick Van Exel... how many points does Nellie think you need to win? 160?

I still like some of those players, but when Nelson moved to the Bay Area, I didn't follow him. I found the Warriors that closed the season so well and stunned Dallas to be more of a nuisance to watch than they were a thrill.

Baron Davis ranked himself in the top 20 players in the league with his play, and everyone else had their moments. But for every second of every game I saw them in the playoffs, they looked like they were playing pick-up ball at the gym. Guys moved, and dribbled, and shot - oh, man they shot - but no two players ever seemed to have a real idea, or even an interest about what any other player was doing. They dribbled, tried to get free for a shot, if it didn't work they passed and the next guy immediately shot.

This wasn't run and gun. Phoenix is run and gun. Golden State was just gun. And the number of times I saw this pay off over the course of the Dallas series seemed, off the charts, I guess, given the level of talent on this team. And the number of times one of them shot and missed, only for a long rebound to bounce to a Golden State player who had been standing still also seemed unreasonably high. In the Utah series it balanced out, thanks a little to Kirilenko and Deron Williams chasing, but mostly because that's just what happens.

19, 24, 25, and 27. Those are how many 3-pointers Golden State missed in each of its four losses here. That's hard to watch. It's not "Live by the three, die by the three." It's just die by the three.

Golden State also had meltdowns and temper issues throughout the playoffs. Like, as a group, they had hideous shot choices and moments of thuggery that brought on numerous flagrant fouls and technicals. Just like Dallas, I don't know if you can point the finger at any one player, but there's one guy who's in charge of all the players.

How does any of this make Nellie a genius? I'd believe he went the whole playoffs without a clipboard. What discussions could he be having with his assistants on the bench?

Assistant coach: "They're not shooting enough."
Nelson: "No, they're shooting enough. They're just not far enough away. Did we bring a clipboard?"
Assistant coach: "Clipboard, yeah. But no markers."

Those words I made up. These ones, and I'm paraphrasing, were real. They came from the post-game press conference.

(reporter): "What does this team need to do to get over the hump?"
Nelson: "Over the hump? (laughing) I think we got over the hump--"
(same reporter): -- "to get deeper into the playoffs, then?"
Nelson: (talking over him) "Next question."

This is it, Don? The second round of the playoffs? They knocked off Dallas, which was great for them, but what was this magical run that everyone saw? This team won five games in the playoffs. It lost six of them. They'll go down as the first 8-seed to win best-of-seven games against a No. 1, but in five years, will we be harking back to that golden time when the Bay Area got basketball fever for a week and a half?

It now looks like Don, 67, might be on his way out, by choice. From what I saw, he probably okay'd the trade for Jackson and Al Harrington, handed the ball to Baron Davis, and checked-out in late March.

- Now another note. Wouldn't you have liked to see Mehmet Okur and Andris Biedrins just trade teams? Biedrins maintains Utah's quota of "Eastern European White Guy With Spiky Hair," and Okur joins the shootaround on the Golden State end. I think Jerry Sloan is playing a long game of "Red Light, Green Light" with Okur. Once a night, he says, "Green light," Okur shoots four threes in 90 seconds, and Sloan says "Red light." It either works or it doesn't, and he won a couple of games for them.

Speaking of those two, I want to make a point about foreign players.

I'm not going to shock anyone, except Isaiah Thomas and Danny Ainge, but foreign players are here to stay and they seem really important.

San Antonio - 5, Phoenix - 4, Utah - 4, Cleveland - 3. That's the number of players on those teams that either start or play significant minutes who were born outside of the lower 48 states.

Five of the last 6 NBA MVPs fit the same description. The other MVP was Kevin Garnett, who was created in an American lab, but using mostly international parts.

This trend will not end any time soon, and while teams can't continue to add foreign players at the same rate, we can assume those teams that haven't drafted outsiders soon will. Anyone who fights this, or fails to see its importance, is like the 1960's music fan who heard the Beatles and thought, "Well, that'll be the last time rock and roll comes out of the UK."

It's already over.

Now, to Ginobli and Barbosa, who are the best South American players. Ginobli's from Argentina, and, as a soccer fan, I can tell you that for all he is, he's not in their Top 10 athletes. Barbosa, from Brazil, who is as fast and slick as anyone anywhere in the league? He's not in Brazil's Top FORTY. If this game really takes root in these countries - and in Italy and Germany - believe me, these countries have got brilliant young athletes with free time. If you set up camps, if you send coaches, if you build hoops, if you make sure it's on the TV...

Very soon, my friends, this game will no longer belong to us. We will see the NBA's first all-foreign starting five. That team will make the playoffs. Either get in on it, or get out.

- And now, since I've gone long, as always, I'll try to make this quick. Phoenix 2, San Antonio 3. Tonight's game in SA. Horry's bump on Nash, Stoudemire and Diaw leave the bench, get suspended, Phoenix loses game five. My thoughts:

- David Stern is getting nailed on this. Everybody says he needed to do something to keep Phoenix from losing this game for this reason. Let's think of what we're asking for here.

You want David Stern, who has for years been criticized for doing whatever he wants as comissioner, to make a personal judgment call on a rule. How could he possibly put himself in that position? There are already a hundred conspiracies about how Stern wants this team to make the finals, this team to do that, etc. And now he's supposed to rise up and say, "You know what, fellas? Forget the rule. I'll handle this one."

This rule is what's on the books. The people hammering Stern now are the same ones that have for years said he had too much control. Now we want to open it up for him to revoke, on a case-by-case basis, any rules on the books? It's just stupid.

We're ready to give one guy that much power? I think Alberto Gonzales is about to be unemployed. Maybe Stern could take him on as a secretary.

If the players union wanted this changed, if the owners wanted it changed, they should have been on the phone with Stern and Michael Wilbon every day since it happened 10 years ago.

But those were the rough-and-tough Knicks and Heat in a series no one watched, because Michael Jordan wasn't in it. But now, in the marquee series, we say this rule has to go, TONIGHT. Stupid.

Just to float an idea, what if Horry was a more volatile person, felt someone coming, fast, on his blindside, and Kermit Washington'd Stoudemire's goddamn eye? Given the on-court fights we've seen in the last couple years, I don't think this is something you can just write off. "Oh, but this time..." If players thought they could leave the bench, thinking they were acting in self-defense...

Earlier this season, Stephen Jackson's self-defense involved firing several gunshots outside of a nightclub. That's not even run and gun, that's just gun.

I'm just making the point that what's reasonable to Amare Stoudemire might be different than what's reasonable to someone else.

By the way, I admire the instinct in Stoudemire, who went much farther than Diaw and seemed like he actually had something in mind. I'm not sure if he wanted to get to his teammate Nash or the offender Horry, but seeing that happen to Steve Nash made Amare Stoudemire think, "I gotta' get there," and there's a big part of me that likes that.

And, according to the rule, he had to sit. If you want to change the rule, you do that in the offseason, not in a 36-hour window between playoff games. Stern had no play here.

Now, to the basketball itself. Game five was a really draining loss on Phoenix. Without Stoudemire to pick up a handful of dunks and layups down the stretch, they didn't have it. Nash got decent looks in the last minute and he missed them.

By the way, I just saw that Nash has played the most NBA games without playing in the Finals. It's getting to the point now where, for all the great things he does for his teams, you need to see those kind of results. Dude's got a bad back: how many years does he have left?

Earlier in these playoffs, I picked San Antonio to take the whole thing. I liked their depth, I liked that their best player always shows up and is incredibly low-maintenance. Everyone on the team seems just icy and professional down the stretch, except Ginobli, who runs way hot and way cold, and doesn't hurt them enough to lose many games.

Now, Phoenix has lost home court, has pretty much burned itself out in Game five, and Nash missed his big shots.

I will now, in the interest of some kind of blogging integrity (copyright Mike Mullen), change my pick. While my head has been so far in the San Antonio tent to this point, my heart was in Phoenix. I love everything they do. They seem to be enjoying the way they play, and the only other person having fun on the court, in the entire league, is Gilbert Arenas.

And don't tell me they don't play defense. Raja Bell, Marion, and Stoudemire all contest shots and board up. And Nash and Barbosa fly around and dive at everything on the ground. And they all take charges and flop, except Stoudemire, who is so strong it would just look silly for him to ever hit the deck.

So I'm switching. With Phoenix down and beaten up and needing to win in the Alamodome, I'm going to pick them to do it. My head fought it, but I want them to win so badly, and I like so much what they do, I've won it over.

I've got Stoudemire scoring a furious 35 tonight and Nash making a play in the final minute. I've got Ginolbli going cold one night. I've got two close ones. Classics. Maybe even an overtime.

I'm taking Phoenix in seven.

Good day. Back soon.

Notes, or Steve Nash is bleeding all over the NBA playoffs

Hello.

We'll start with the non-sports, and this is just one more note, this one on youtube. You'll notice I've lately-roped-off the internet and sports as what I'm talking about here. That can and will change, but for now, those are the things that just seem most obvious to me.

The following two stories ran one on top of the other in the New York Times:

- Youtube is going to start paying ad revenue to some of its most popular independent video producers. If you haven't seen much of youtube, "independent video producers" are people who are young and, probably, at home. In the article it mentions how Metacafe, a similar site, has already been doing this for some time. Some of Metacafe's producers have earned more than $10,000.

I get a lot of stuff in my e-mail about working from home, and I don't put much stock in it, but these kids are making decent bank making home movies. And most of them will probably be hired somewhere, and good for them.

I don't watch many of these videos. It's not what I go to youtube for, and honestly I don't trust many people to entertain me. So I can't speak much to the quality of these videos, but I know one of the people who stands to make tens of thousands of American dollars goes by the name smosh.

- The second story told about two companies, one of them England's premier soccer league, that are suing youtube, claiming that the site "encourages vast copyright infringement to attract attention and bolster traffic." It was the second such suit filed against youtube to date. Expect more to follow.

I have a lot of problems here. Youtube isn't "encouraging" much of anything. The site's main page is pretty blank of verbal instructions, and I've never seen anything say, "post your illicit soccer highlights here."

Also, "attract attention." To what? Your product? If you're NBC, the NBA, the NRA... any video that draws attention to you or your show or athlete or gun is an unpaid advertisement for you. You should be thanking youtube.

Now, if these companies, which I assume have a literate staff, would read the story that ran above their own... if they knew that 20 million people watch youtube every month... smosh wouldn't be the only one making money here.

-Now to sports, and you'll notice "sports" tends to mean "basketball" here. Look, I love soccer, I sometimes love basketball, and then I like a lot of different sports. So, if I feel like writing about baseball or football or skiing, I will. But if you want your football fix right now, check the NFL Network.

The Draft is probably just finishing up.

As for baseball, let me save you the trip around the blogs and websites and ESPN. Here's your baseball news: BARRY BONDS! ROGER CLEMENS! THE YANKEES! JOE TORRE! BONDS! CLEMENS!

Really, the news is, Bonds is going to break the home run record and is a dick. Clemens is back for an incredible amount of money and is probably a dick. Joe Torre is a good manager and might not be a dick. Bonds used steroids and is really a dick. Clemens probably did and probably is. Enough. More baseball updates coming in July.

But here, we begin of course with the NBA.

First, I was wrong on Dallas, and wrong on Dirk.

Let me make clear, I don't feel like I was big-time, long-term wrong. Dirk's non-game was startling to anyone who'd seen him play more than 10 times. I've never seen him stay that far out of the rhythym for that long.

But let me say this. At halftime, Dirk had four points. He had missed four threes, and been to the free throw line only once. It is during this halftime, that I believe Jerry Stackhouse, Jason Terry, Erick Dampier, or, I don't know, Avery Johnson needed to grab Dirk by that goatee and say, "Can you believe we're still in this game after that dud of a first half? Now, we're going to get you to 25 points, and 10 or 12 of them are coming at the free throw line, where you shoot NINETY PERCENT."

Instead, Dirk shot once - once? - in their disaster of a third quarter. Dirk missed one 3-pointer, and by the way, Devan George, Stack, Terry, and Josh Howard missed two each in the third quarter. That's how you score 15 points in one quarter folks. It looked like Dirk didn't want the shots, and his teammates didn't look for him. I'm not sure who's at fault, but there's only one guy in charge of all the guys I just mentioned, and that's Avery Johnson.

- A lot of talk is going on about who's not in the NBA playoffs, and that list now reads Kobe, D-Wade, Shaq, T-Mac, Yao, Iverson, 'Melo, and Gilbert Arenas, who by the way would have emerged as a personality-and-talent juggernaut this playoffs save his damn knee. By the way, let's add Kevin Garnett to this list just for posterity.

Now to the casual fan, this is problematic, and they might not be interested in some of the incredible high drama of Utah-Golden State and Phoenix-San Antonio, and that's fine.

But this is an interesting thing, as a basketball fan. You could argue that the best players in the league, save Nash and Duncan, are all watching the playoffs. I know this makes some of them very angry. Other than Shaq, Iverson and KG, all of the guys I just mentioned are under 30. (Shaq's 35, the other two are 31.) All of them will be seeing each other for a few years now, and I want them all to come back this year meaner and hungrier, and then one of them wins, and the rest get very angry.

I'm not sure if anyone can afford to be fat and happy right now. Look what winning one championship did the Heat, or even reaching the finals did to the Mavs. They came back to the playoffs like they were owed something, and they got mercifully bounced.

And another point about the lack of stars present in these playoffs. If you're in the West, how many times do you think you'll get a good look at the Finals in the next five or eight years without going through Dallas and/or Houston? Or in the East, to know that D-Wade was already out? For all the teams left to look around and realize there's no Shaq still on the board?

Again, I like this. San Antonio and Detroit are still playing, but the other six teams must be thinking, "This is our best chance to win, maybe our, maybe my only chance to ever win." And that kind of energy seems to be running throughout the playoffs, except for Chicago, which looks scared of Detroit.

- Quick note on Detroit-Chicago: in the first quarter of Game 1, with Detroit already up a dozen, Detroit threw the ball away when it looked like a Piston player was pulled down or tripped up. As the crowd complained, the ball bounced to a well-dressed fan in the first row, who proceeded to stand up, SPIKE THE BALL and get on the ref. With the Pistons up 15 points, in the first quarter. If that's your swanky front row fan... look, nobody wants to play in Detroit. Nobody.

I have a theory that Ron Artest took on the little guy - the wrong guy - in that Detroit crowd because everywhere else he looked there were people saying, "What? You want something?"

- Now to Suns-Spurs. Game 2 was the Suns-at-home blowout, which is a built-in feature of this series. Look for the Spurs-at-home blowout coming soon, which will be 105-89 in Game 3 or 4.

Much more interesting was Game one. For about 45 minutes, this was perfect, perfect playoff basketball. Then the Nash-Parker face-to-face collision happened.

On a quick side note, in my experience, your forehead is tougher than your nose. In fact, I thought the principle of the headbutt was to hit someone's nose with your forehead. So when Nash and Parker hit nose-to-forehead, and Parker goes down for a while, and Nash takes the nose shot and stands there and goes, "Are you okay?", I think we can set odds on which of these guys is tougher.

So Steve gets a gash on his nose, which is something I've actually had myself. Mine, under cold running water, took 5-10 minutes to stop bleeding profusely. So when I saw his cut, which was identical to mine, and thought about what his heartrate would be trying to play, I knew it would be impossible to stop the bleeding soon enough.

Another side note: my best remedy would have been the glue, which they used, then cold pressure right until the timeout is over, then a last-second towel to wipe excess blood, then two quick bandages. That should have bought a couple minutes of minimum blood flow. As soon as the bandage went on, it started filling up.

Instead, we got some of the most dramatic sports moments I've ever seen. I will never forget Nash coming on to hit a three, miss another one, then make a lay-up, each progressively bloodier than the last.

I even won't forget Nash dumping water on his face to get blood out of his eye, or running past an uninformed D'Antoni, checking himself in on the fly and trying to keep playing. Just incredible scenes, more theater than sports really, but the end result left a bad taste in my mouth.

This incident clearly cost them the game. Barbosa is probably one of the most effective subs in the history of the league, and he should be on the floor for the last three minutes of every quarter. But he's just a kid. He can't be called on to close a game, and it seemed like no one knew that more than Nash.

Barbosa, 24, missed a stupid three in the final minute, and shortly afterward fouled Ginobli when he didn't need to. I can't fault him for these things: he's a kid. But neither of them would have happened the way they did with Nash out there.

So, instead of saying, "Shouldn't we do this?" or "Why can't we?", I'm going to make a prediction. During this offseason, a new NBA rule will be put in place that allows the officials to confer with team trainers and call an extended official timeout. Call it either an injury timeout, or a recovery timeout.

It states that a trainer may indicate to an official, "This player is injured, but we believe he can be back on the floor in 300 seconds." It covers cramps, mild concussions, and bleeding, like Midol.

But seriously I think this will happen. It will be heretofore called the "Nash rule." And to anyone who says, "A rule, just for one thing with one player?" My response would be I think Nash is about to win his third MVP, and the rule that kept him off the floor while bleeding is called the what? The - you guessed it - three-time MVP "Magic Johnson Rule." By the way, totally legit rule, and so is this one. I can't believe that anyone would want another game decided this way.

- And finally, and I buried this on purpose, I was way, way right on Kirilenko. He's been great. For periods of time in each of the five games since I last wrote, he's been the best player on the floor. And down the stretch, he's not hurting them on offense, and his defense has won them at least two games.

By the way, if his rebound numbers look low, it's because of this weird thing he does on defense. When someone has the ball, Kirilenko chases the guy around and then jumps at him when he shoots. It doesn't leave him close to the hoop, but it really pissed off McGrady and then Stephen Jackson and Baron Davis. I think this tactic will revolutionize defense if it ever catches on.

But, good for AK, good for me. Thanks for reading and good day.

Notes, or The 2008 NFL Draft is on the clock

Hello.

Seems like "Notes" is all I do lately, and I really ought to get one of my big project entries out soon. I'm sure you're all waiting for a 2,000-word monster, and the sad thing is it's probably coming.

For now, just notes.

We'll get the non-sports one out of the way first, and this is another iTunes tip. The New York Times does a "Front Page" podcast, which is free to download from the iTunes store. It's a brief (4-5 minutes) description of the stories one would find on the front page of that day's paper. You can set your subscription to automatically update the newest podcast, and could, ideally, use this preview every morning to decide whether or not you want to buy that day's Times. It's a good idea in theory.

One thing I like about this is that one late night I was looking through iTunes and found out that it becomes available in the middle of the night, at what time I can only assume the paper has only recently gone to press. Given the sometimes lazy habits of other news outlets (Washington Post, ESPN) in updating their podcasts, this punctuality is a great achievement.

Here's what I don't like. The guy doing the description sounds like the NPR weather guy on a couple painkillers and six shots of Nyquil. I fear that sometime I'll listen to this guy, and one or both of us will be rendered indefinitely comatose.

My other problem is that what this fellow does is summarize the stories, and in a rather bland, bare-bones way. This might be what some people want, but those people could get the same kind of coverage from nearly every radio or TV station, website, or newspaper. The reason why anyone would buy the NY Times is because they have the best reporters, who get the best details, and most of them are brilliant writers. And none of that comes across here.

My boy, Tony Kornheiser of the Washington Post, always says his radio show is not about the front page. But when something big happens, or when a certain story in the Post catches him, he simply reads the story, on the air. And it's great. It's great writing, read by someone interested in the story.

This is what the Times should be doing. Hire someone, or bring in the authors themselves, and have them read the first three or four graphs of a couple stories, verbatim. Then you do headlines on the other stories, and say, "If you want more, buy today's Times." First of all, the podcast popularity (which is already good) would multiply, and you could sell a very expensive ad. Second, it would give people a reason to go to the Times and not somewhere else: because the words are so, so much better.

Now, to sports. Quite a few things to cover here, so I'll try to be as brief and dull as possible.

- Instead of doing a big entry on Kevin Garnett, I'll offer two things. One is an inside fact, the other is an opinion, and they come in that order.

Fact: A friend of my sister's recently got a job waitressing at an ultra-swanky Minneapolis restaurant. She told me that Garnett and a couple of other players ate there recently.

"But actually one of them said he was a rapper," she said, at which point I described Ricky Davis, and she said, "Yeah, that was him."

This comes as no surprise. I'm still doing facts here: I saw Garnett settle for more long jumpers early in the shot clock this season than I ever have before. Also true is that on a couple of occasions I saw Ricky Davis call the five players on the floor into a seperate, post-timeout meeting. And it didn't seem to work well.

Another true story: when the Wolves went to an overtime once this season, the sideline reporter contributed that in the huddle before OT started, coach Randy Wittman told his players that they were going to "move the ball like never before." While she was giving this report, KG passed to Ricky, who IMMEDIATELY shot. Then Ricky got the ball and went right to the hole, got fouled. Also in the overtime, he shot a short jumper and two threes. The fact that Ricky took these shots, and even the fact that his second three went down for a game-winner, aren't much of a surprise...

But for Garnett to miss three shots in the same OT, two of them from 19-plus feet?

Now, the opinion: when I watched Garnett a couple years ago playing with Cassell and Sprewell, and I watched a lot... he was, for that year tied with one person (guess who) as the best player I've ever seen. If Cassell's back didn't go out and Sprewell wasn't, I guess, insane, they might have won the championship that year or another.

Now, Ricky Davis has been involved in a couple of desperation trades in his day. And I think we can all imagine what Kevin McHale's phone bill might look like over the summer.

- Now, to the curious case of Dwyane Wade, a player whose name is spelled incorrectly, but seemed to have everything else going for him until a couple weeks ago.

In my last blog I said that Shaq was "fat," and I want to retract that here, but I can't. I saw a picture of Shaq on ESPN.com where the skin folded-up on the back of his neck looks like a couple Bud Light bottles. He was way out of shape.

But in last year's championship run, Shaq was never the most important player on the Heat. Wade was the beginnging and the end of that team. And in this season's playoffs, Wade showed flashes of that same dynamic ability. I would think that should go the other way: flashes one year, then you put it all together for a title run.

In Wade's defense, he's really, really young. And we shouldn't expect him to repeat that performance.

But they got SWEPT out of the playoffs, soundly beaten. They got outscored in the second half of every game against Chicago. They joined Orlando and Washington by getting swept, and Orlando and Washington are playoff teams in the same way North and South Dakota are states: by definition only.

I understand Wade sat out a bunch of games with a dislocated shoulder. But it was his non-shooting shoulder. And, it was his shoulder. What was holding him back most were his legs, which looked like they aged ten years, and his head. He couldn't get past something, or, as some say he couldn't get "outside his own head."

Full disclosure: in most sports, I myself am a complete headcase. But no one pays me to play.

Wade is also going to have an MRI taken on his knee. And let me say this: they have to find something. There must be something wrong with his knee. Either that, or he's not the player I thought he was.

I would be much, much easier on Wade if he hadn't taken a shot at Dirk Nowitzki. Dirk made a self-effacing comment about how badly Dallas played last year, and it was true. But Wade turned the screw, and put it all on Dirk's shoulders.

And, when I check the papers, it says both players brought back their entire rosters, and only one of them is still playing.

As far as Dallas, it seems like Nellie and Golden State know exactly how to play them. And yet, Dallas won a game last night they shouldn't have. Not only did they take it away, but Golden State gave it up willingly.

And Dirk hasn't exactly been sterling for this entire series. But let me mention this: in Game 4, Dirk tossed-in 3s with 14 and then three seconds left to at least give Dallas a chance. In Game 5, as we all saw, he again hit back-to-back 3s, then he hit the free throws to tie, take the lead, and then seal the result. Throw in a soul-crushing block against Matt Barnes, and Dirk won that game by himself. And again, he's still playing.

And I've still got Dallas winning, obviously in seven games. Also, my San Antonio pick still looks good, so no need to mention that.

- Now, to football.

The NFL draft was last weekend, and in case you missed it, it's probably still going on. Check the NFL Network for coverage.

Honestly, the first round of the draft was six hours long. It's as bloated as, well, as any number of my blog entries.

Six hours? This is an OUTRAGE. Every team got 15 minutes to make its pick, and (32 x 15 = 480), they all used ALL FIFTEEN GODDAMN MINUTES. What the hell are these teams doing? Are they taking Calvin Johnson to the parking lot to run one more 40? Do they want to ensure that their pick doesn't get arrested in those 15 minutes? Is there any team that looks up at the clock with 10 seconds left and goes, "Oh, Christ, we're on the clock. Quick, just take somebody. Anybody!"

Are there any GMs thinking, "I can't decide. Call both of them, see who answers first."

Here's how the draft should go. The night before, the No. 1 team submits its pick in writing. This pick is immediately announced. The next team is then given two minutes, during which they will decide whether they want to pick, or want an extended period (10 minutes, say) to option the pick as a trade. Teams that are not intersted in trading are encouraged to hand in a written list of players, ranked in the order of their desire. This guy, if he's not available this guy, etc. Let's get this thing over with.

By the way, 15 hours in two days is an incredibly long time for anyone to do TV. I'm amazed when newsmen do all-night election coverage. And on those nights, we're electing the national government. And this is the NFL Draft.

I only watched one or two of those hours. Kornheiser was good, but he's obviously holding back. If he ever did what he does on his radio show for ESPN, he would shred for a couple minutes, then be escorted out of the booth and have his contract bought-out.

Steve Young was good on the main stage, and provided the sole highlight of the day. When Brady Quinn was sitting forever from picks 9-21, they eventually started talking about character, and what this might be doing to him personally.

At this point, Mel Kiper - who could do the entire draft by himself, without blinking - chimes in, "If the Green Bay Packers didn't draft Aaron Rogers a couple of years ago, Brady Quinn would be headed to Green Bay to back-up Brett Favre."

Then Berman kicks it to the studio, but it takes a while to cut away. And we see Steve Young turn to Kiper and say, "Where did that come from?" Funny stuff.

Kiper has kids, and let's say he has a boy and a girl. I think if you asked him how his kids are, he would say, "They're good kids. The boy, he's tall, he's strong, big hands, he's gonna' be a good son for 10 or 15 years. Now, my daughter, she's a bit riskier. She's got five pounds to lose, she has no upper-body strength - there are a lot of issues there. I don't see anyone taking her anytime soon."

That's my time for today. You've been great.

If you do get or have iTunes, subscribe to This American Life. Otherwise, just go to the website (thisamericanlife.com) and listen to "Habeas Schmabeus." When it's done, realize that these people have been doing this, a top of the line, one-hour audio documentary, every week for 12 years. And if you can listen to streaming audio (and you can), they're all free on the website. (By the way, this was Charles Barkley last night: "I been thinkin' about gettin' a computer. I really am.")

I love it when critics or other people try to pinpoint why the show is so good, and why the intro by host Ira Glass is so good. These people are wasting their time coining phrases, or comparing formats.

It's just the reporting. And for the intro, it's the writing. That's it, that's all that matters.

I suppose at this point we've come full circle, which seems like a good way to end.

Good day then. I'll be back soon with something real.

Thanks.

Notes or Jerry Sloan benches himself

Hello, and happy Thursday.

Just a few notes today: Jason Kidd is good, Dwyane Wade is bad, Phoenix lights up the Lakers, and the compelling tale of Andrei Kirilenko.

- In ego news, my hit counter (which is found at the bottom of this page) tells me that 104 seperate people have visited this blog (totalling 264 hits) since I started telling people about it one month ago. As I've requested, the people I told seem to have told other people, and others have found me through search engines.

My hit counter also tells me that four people came here by total search engine mistake. And two of those idiots were looking for "Larry Birkhead." I'm just swelling with pride.

Anyway, I'm pretty sure that the counter reading is fake. Several times I've come on late at night, sometimes just an hour or two after midnight, to find out that someone has already visited my site that day, which... I just don't think so. Maybe, but no.

But, even without the four mistakes, I'm in triple digits. And even if they're mostly fake, at least nine or ten of them had to be real people. I'm not sure where this was going, but thanks, and I'll spare you any more of this crap until I'm at 1,000 visitors.

So, onto a few notes on the NBA playoffs.

- Jason Kidd was really, really great in the first game of the New Jersey-Toronto series, which is meaningless unless you frequent thesmokinggun.com or this blog. Yechh. Makes me want to take a shower.

- Staying in the East, Dwyane Wade, who is playing while still recovering from a dislocated shoulder, is playing a bit like Michael Jordan did -- when he was 40. If you watched the Heat lose games 1 and 2 in Chicago, you realized just how much of Wade's game last season was predicated on beating one player, taking one step in the lane, jumping as high and far as he could, and making it up from there. That fearlessness is noticeably absent right now.

When I saw Shaq in person in March, he looked fat. Right now he's playing fat. He won't play himself into shape in the next 15 games, so he's going to have to realize he's fat and play smart. On a side note, if you could've picked one player to blow up like an Earth Day Balloon (actual size) this year, it should've been Antoine Walker. But he actually looked quite sleak when I saw him, and that may mean a lot to them, because James Posey doesn't play basketball very well.

Now, for Wade fans, the dangerous thing is this: he seemed to play it passive for about 44 minutes in game 1. Then it was like he looked up at the scoreboard and thought, "Oh, God, we could still win this." At which point he pretty much did what he wanted: jumper, jumper, running jumper and a foul, incredble drive-and-almost-lose-it-and-dish to Udonis Haslem for a layup. Throw in a couple J-Williams 3-pointers, and Miami scored 13 points in three minutes and one second.

If you're keeping track, that's 16 points the entire third quarter (12 minutes), and then when they feel like it, 13 in three minutes.

The entire Heat team, Wade included, seems to have taken Shaq's "We can turn it on whenever" philosophy, which, if you have the young Shaq, seemed to work okay. If you have the old Shaq? It makes for a delicate situation.

And in Game 1, that house of cards fell through when Wade missed an ill-advised three that would have tied it with 11 seconds left. And by the way, taking, and missing that three was totally something that would have happened to Michael Jordan.

When he was 40.

Then the Heat got run out of the gym in Game 2, and it seemed clear that the entire second half they were thinking about a plane trip back to Miami. You could almost hear Gary Payton and Walker arguing over who would deal the first poker hand.

Until Wade is Wade again, they need to show up for, oh, how about 30 out of 48 minutes. And, assuming Luol Deng stops doing his Jerry "Yeah, that's me in the logo" West impression, I still see these Heat getting to the East finals.

- We switch now to the West, where I offer a brief thought on the Phoenix-LA series. I should say first that I love Phoenix, I have tried to play like Steve Nash before there was a Steve Nash, and my absent "MVP column," which would have been awful, would have eventually named Steve-O because he seems to make his teammates not just satisifed but actually happy.

When Kobe, Michael and Isaiah got their teams to play championship ball, they did so out of pure fear. Their role players were playing with someone so fierce, who wanted so badly to win, that if they were the jackass who stood in the way, it was not going to end well for them. It was not only possible, but likely, that if they screwed around they would be at least threatened, if not swung upon. (It's rumored that MJ hit two different teammates, including Steve Kerr, which, if you read my previous entry, would be, like, the 10th most interesting thing going on in Steve Kerr's bio.) Anyway, these dynasties ran on fear.

But Nash, like Wade last year, and Magic and Larry some time ago, seems to inspire his team through pure joy. Barbosa, Stoudemire, Raja Bell, Boris Diaw, even Marion -- who just strikes me as an odd fellow -- they all seem to have dropped the requisite tough guy attitude and are not ashamed about how much fun they're having. I'm not sure if it translates to a championship, maybe not yet... but it could, and I think they should be embraced for it.

That being said, what the Suns don't do, what they choose not to do, is play a lot of defense.

120, 114, 116, 121, 124, 116, 122. Those numbers are points, points that Phoenix gave up this season without going to overtime, in games against Atlanta, Seattle, Chicago, Minnesota, Golden State, and Memphis.

If I tried to reach players on some of those teams for comment (and I didn't), it would have been tough, because most of those guys can be found golfing for the next couple months.

And LA shows up with 98 and 87? You mean LA can't hang with them for a few quarters, then try and win a close one? Not only does Phoenix not seem disheartened when someone scores, they hardly seem to notice. And Kobe -- who would have gone down hard in that MVP entry, and may still -- can't listen to Phil Jackson and figure out how to get more than 87 points on this Phoenix "Look but don't touch" defense?

I'm about to waste a line here that should have come in its own entry, but there is no physical difference between MJ and Kobe, save MJ's extra inch of explosiveness and Kobe's extra inch of arm length, which obviously cancel out.

But the difference seems to be that, from about 26-35, Jordan got better and more efficient and smarter every year. And Kobe Bryant, 28, seems for the moment to be on that same curve, only he's moving in the opposite direction.

- And now, to Houston-Utah. Here's how you explain Andrei Kirilenko.

Blocked shots became an official stat in 1970, and until 2003, only 10 times in 33 years had a player finished a game with 5 or more points, rebounds, assists, steals and blocks. (Also called a 5 x 5.) And of those 10, Hakeem Olajuwan had six. (By the way, six?)

And then, in 2003, at the age of 22, Andrei Kirilenko put up two 5 x 5s... IN - ONE - WEEK.

Kirilenko, who also notched a 5 x 5 last year seemed to be emerging as the best-on-the ball defender, and a rebounder-hustler type, and maybe about to join Duncan as a great player who could happily help his team win while scoring less than 10 points.

But right now Kirilenko is adrift. He played only 30 minutes per game this season, down from 40 last year. In Game 1 against Houston, that number shrank to 16. A few days ago, he teared-up a bit when the media was pressing him on his lack of playing time.

Charles Barkley then said this was inexcusable, that you can cry after you lose a big game. But this has never made sense to me. I lost plenty of games as a basketball player, and some of them I really cared about. Some of them cost me $20. But I never cried afterwards, because I never felt like there was something more I should have done, or that I had let my teammates down with my effort.

But to be a once-in-a-lifetime talent, just entering the prime of your career, finally playing with a skilled group, and have your coach decide the team is better without you?

I think that would have a lot of players asking major questions of themselves.

Now, let's examine the coach here. Jerry Sloan played 11 years, 10 of them with the then-expansion Chicago Bulls. He was a hard-nosed guard who never averaged 19 points a game. And when you're playing 35 minutes a game, and averaging only 10 points a game, as he once did... and let me mention that, to average 10 points a game for a whole season, that means sometimes you score 25 points, and some games you score two...

(Aside: sometimes I put things in italics, which would be me putting extra emphasis on them, like I would when talking. And sometimes I capitalize words, which should signify shouting, which is something I sometimes do, and which I fear I might do in the near future.)

... when you're not dishing out more than 3.5 assists per game in any of your 11 seasons... we can assume you are a greased cog in the machine, a hustler-defender-rebounder, a guy out there to do things that other guys can't or just won't do... the kind of guy whose competitive fire might have made him feel great personal indignity if a coach cut off his young career...

WELL SHIT, JERRY, DOES KIRILENKO REMIND YOU OF ANYONE?

Play him, Sloan. Play him 40 minutes a game. You played him 18 and then 16 minutes, and you lost twice. You don't even have to tell the public, or the team, that you were wrong, though we all know.

But you need to tell Andrei, who seems to have a sense of self and a fragile ego at this time, that you made a mistake. And then you need to play him. Or else you will lose in four or five games, you will set Andrei back five years, and reporters who know and like you will begin to wonder whether you're the best thing for Utah anymore.

Even your Mormon fans know that a jazz band needs a bass player.

Well, I've gone on too long, and I apologize, but other notes of consequence will have to wait. Sorry.

By the way, as for the teams I didn't mention, the Spurs' fourth, fifth, and sixth best players are Mike Finley, Brent Barry, and Robert Horry. They have the best top six in the NBA, bar none. They even got the quintessential "scare game," an ugly gaffe in Game 1 against Denver, and they looked like cold-blooded professionals in game 2. Until further notice, they're the team to beat.

I'll see you soon. Thanks.