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Recognize
11.30.2007
Impressionism
It's finally true.
"We don't want any tag. We don't want any Big Three or whatever. We just go out there and do out job. Z is playing career basketball right now, Drew is getting better, and I'm going to do what I have to do for us to win, of course...We always talk second. We never start anything. We let our game speak for itself." (HT: The Chronicle-Telegram)
Despite the heroics of LeBron's playoff run last season, and the supposed majesty which people wanted to attach to it, I always found it to be a somewhat hollow achievement. Yes, that one game was transcendent, but the Cavaliers were playing an ugly brand of basketball, and the Eastern Conference was not good. The Heat were injured, the Pistons were in moderate disarray--being the tallest midget means very little if you still aren't tall enough for the roller coaster. And as we saw in the Finals, it wasn't safe for Cleveland to be on the court when San Antonio came rumbling by. Further, the Cavaliers' sad showing in the Finals reinforced the relevance of the narratives we were more intently following as the season came to a close and the playoffs played out: Dallas' historic flop; Kobe's renewed greatness; Tim Duncan's place in history; Steve Nash's sustained excellence. It was exciting to catch a glimpse of what LeBron might one day accomplish, but I didn't invest heavily in the idea that Cleveland's run had heralded an arrival.
This season has. We are, in fact, all witnesses. The long-anticipated and -desired James Journey to Jordanland has commenced. Having grown up in an era when Michael first was expected to break through and then, subsequently, was expected to reign over the league, I remember individual Bulls games because even a regular-season match up could be an event. But I also remember the general sense that whatever happened on a given night would surely result in a Chicago triumph. The particulars weren't even all that important: Michael would do something in the course of ensuring victory.
For someone whose NBA superlatives were calibrated by Michael, it has been odd to again experience that sort of knowing. I know that LeBron is gonna do something. After the Boston game on Wednesday, LeBron seems to have embarked down the path toward assumed brilliance. No longer is it a nightly matter of whether he'll be great. Instead, it is only a question of how. That he has also come to speak of his team with an assured, almost defiant confidence indicates that he's even mastered the rhetoric. Athletes, of course, project facades of composure and issue meaningless guarantees all the time. But is there anyone who's watched LeBron recently who read that quotation above and thought it was more Ewing than Jordan? Not me.
In it to win it?
The torture of love. From Wednesday night:
Please, stop it. Please. Stop holding the ball. Stop doing that thing where you stand out on the wing, palm the ball in your right hand, extend it out toward halfcourt with your back half turned to the basket, and survey the scene. Please. It's go time! Make a move! The clock is winding down.
Don't give me this bullshit routine. You can take your man. Just pivot on your left foot, drive to the basket with your left hand, and finish or get fouled. It's not that hard. Do it for your team, Tracy! TRACY!
Oh, no, my bad. I see that you're eschewing greatness. Dwyane would have gone to the basket. Kobe would have raped it. LeBron would already be biting his nails on the way to the charity stripe. But not you; and by extension, since I ride with you, not me. Us? We're on our way back toward the middle, figuratively and literally. Rather than seizing upon the clear out and going to the hole--the move that makes the most sense since you are Tracy Fucking McGrad, have a great left, and should be aggressive in crunch time--we're on our way back. Back into the defense. Back into the hedging defender who is going to force us to pass. Back into the waiting arms of doubters. Back into the limbo created when God-given ability makes promises that competitive instincts can't keep.
*sigh*
We'll have to keep working on this. Maybe the moment isn't right, isn't big enough. Is that it? I know you have this in you. I know it. I've seen it. And that's sort of the point: why don't I see it more often? Winning has to almost become your lifestyle. It can't just be some casual goal.
Psh. Typical.
I regret to inform everyone that Jermaine O'Neal, who has never won anything, is now about to be ending his career in the fashion that it started: sitting on a bench. It's not all Jermaine's fault, of course. His body has betrayed him too often in recent years. His back, his knees, his shoulder, his ankles. Despite the best of intentions, despite being a decent human being, despite being a pretty good basketball player when healthy, it's just not gonna happen for him. A lot of us wanted it to, but life is full of disappointments.
You can already see how this is gonna shape up: his knee is going to remain bothersome and clunky. He'll be in and out of the lineup this year as he rehabs. When he comes back next season, assuming it's with the Pacers, he'll be proclaimed a recommitted paragon of health. But that will be a lie and we'll all know it. The explosion won't be the same. He won't be able to move as he once did. The ice packs will be early and often. And he will return to a team that learned to play, and win, without him. Granger will be more assertive. Lil' Dunny will tell you that he needs to be involved for Indiana to be effective. The old focal point, the guy who ran the team, and the guy who made sacrifices for it--he won't recognize the role in which he's been cast. And he'll complain. Maybe not in the media, but in other ways. He'll whisper to coaches, make uncomfortable jokes to teammates. He'll hold the ball, take some bad shots. If they win, then everyone will tolerate awkwardness until it becomes unbearable. And it will soon become apparent that a guy who was already out the door at times and always somewhat sensitive and moody might be best elsewhere.
So he will get dealt away and take his hopes of winning that elusive ring to a new city. Those knees will come with him. There will be established stars and younger players. And...
The next Kung Fu movie that gets made should use music from 8 Diagrams in any funeral scenes. It's only appropriate: after years of Kung Fu clips providing an unofficial soundtrack for the Wu-Tang saga, it just makes sense that the group's death knell would reciprocate and score a Kung Fu passing.
That's the sad reality that plays out as 8 Diagrams plays on. The Wu-Tang Clan that ushered in an era of hip-hop still cherished by twenty-somethings like me has been long gone, but 8 Diagrams serves as the ultimate affirmation. Yet far from enduring the pain of losing a loved one, Wu-Tang fans--and please count me among them, loudly and proudly--are likely to just nod in recognition and reflect with appreciation upon the group's legacy (which, of course, is still being written as solo records continue to get pumped out).
But before we get to a consideration of grand topics in a larger context, let us first just be honest with each other: this new Wu-Tang record is not good. It's mediocre at best. For two or three minutes at a time, the music will have you nodding along as familiar elements fill your headphones--the movie clips, the unorthodox musical elements strung together into a cohesive sound, the tight assonance of a verse you don't really understand but enjoy nonetheless. But these are fleeting moments routinely interrupted by awkward chemistry, bad production choices, and disjointed songs.
During the making of the record, there were stories that some members, like Raekwon and Ghost, were upset about the album's direction and RZA's imperious decision making. You can almost hear that conflict manifest--there are far too many moments when 8 Diagrams starts to feel like an indulgent RZA experiment with a bunch of odd verses slapped together. And without better group chemistry and a more focused aesthetic, the understated menace of a Masta Killa verse simply screams monotony; GZA's word puzzles happen in a vacuum; Method Man's failing voice--far less exuberant and lively, far more weary--becomes sad affirmation that the Wu-Tang's time has come and gone. The last track, "16th Chamber," sums it all up, with RZA playing himself (and I don't mean acting) as the spliced together audio of Method Man and Ol' Dirty from better, younger days of hip-hop halcyon remind us of what is now lost. It is over for the group.
Yet 8 Diagrams is, amazingly, a happier sort of funeral, more homage than mourning. The poor quality and absent group dynamics reinforce just how significant and god-body the collective was throughout the 90s, when they changed rap music. It is a disappointment that this album isn't better, but the first thing I wanted to do after hearing it was throw on a mix of the best Wu-Tang music from the Clan's earlier days. That isn't common--I usually hear a bad record and feel sad and cynical. But the Clan will forever own a unique place in hip-hop: due to the enduring quality and significance of 36 Chambers; due to the curious and self-reinforcing mythology that the group concocted and forever impressed upon a generation of hip-hop fans; due to the frequent collaborations on "solo" records, like Cuban Linx and Ironman, that swell our perceptions of the "group's" catalogue and made that first wave of "solo" bangers anything but; due to manner in which each member has used his unique celebrity to reinforce the group's identity, our perception of the classic Wu-Tang phenomenon may, indeed, be forever. And that's an oddly reassuring consolation that stands out from the disappointment that is 8 Diagrams. It is also likely to continue until each individual's career peters out and we can continually celebrate what those Ghostface albums meant for the larger Clan.
When Lloyd Carr announced his retirement this morning, an era of Michigan football came to a close. What next? The angst and intrigue of a coaching search. As you've likely seen, LSU's Les Miles is commonly regarded as a front runner to land the Michigan job. The names Kirk Ferentz, Brian Kelly, Mike Trgovac, Mike Debord, and Ron English have been bandied about, too.
But this strikes some, like me, as somewhat premature.Michigan is a premier coaching job, likely among the five best in the nation. It offers unparalleled tradition, a national following, "football school" atmosphere, a chance to contend for a national title every year given the program's prominence and the Big Ten schedule. And, it must be filled by the best possible candidate. I don't yet fully know whom I think fits that description--he'll have to be football smart, capable of adjusting, enthusiastic, willing to hire a great staff, a strong recruiter, focused on doing everything ethical and legal to be the absolute best--but I do know that Bill Martin must find him. Call Carroll, Call Meyer, Call Stoops, call everyone. Fully canvas the football universe to identify a coach that this program deserves. And if you struggle, find inspiration in the past.
Below, please find a researched exhortation written by Straight Bangin' affiliate Dr. G. The dude went to Michigan, was coveted by Harvard, and pretty much runs medicine. He also loves the internets and Michigan football. Thus, his sage remembrance...
For the past thirteen years, it went this way. Every fall, football fans would divide up into two factions—the Lloyd Carr apologists and Lloyd Carr haters. I have to admit to having been an apologist, and I cringed every time his name got dragged through the mud. But following this past season, even I could agree that his retirement should have been around the corner. And now that Lloyd has graciously ridden off into the sunset, the Wolverine nation is left to scour the country for our next head coach.
But Michigan just seems too buttoned up to make this kind of leap. Hell, I halfway expected to welcome Mike Debord as the new coach at Lloyd’s farewell press conference. Even if something so unthinkable does not happen, the coaching search will now be full of talk of “staying within the Michigan family” or finding the right “Michigan man” (look no further than Les Miles’ candidacy), when we’re really starved for change.
Turns out we have no reason to be afraid, though—the last time Michigan named a new head football coach we were ready to make a significant leap. In 1995 Gary Moeller had just finished keeping it real at the Excalibur restaurant in Southfield, and after a couple straight losses to Michigan State the football program didn’t blink when it came to showing him the door. Bo claimed to have “been out of town” for the coup, and Mo’s assistants were so offended that they swore they’d leave Ann Arbor on the first train. Carr even held a press conference to say, “I will not be the head coach at Michigan,” which he later chalked up to the emotion. When the dust settled, Carr was given the interim title, but everyone knew he was a placeholder to keep the team together while a national figure was chosen. Carr himself openly discussed candidates that he thought were good choices for his job!
The true visionary was Joe Roberson, the athletic director at the time. He had had enough of back-to-back 8-4 seasons, was looking forward to changing directions. Right after Moeller resigned, and there was still trepidation about whether it had been too brash, Roberson matter of factly said, “Two losses may be acceptable—depending on who we lose to. Three is rarely going to be a good season. Four is bad." And old Joe made it clear that this was his decision when the press asked him how he and University President James Duderstadt made the call to fire Moeller. He said, “We didn’t, I did.” Damn.
Everyone expected Bill McCartney to step in as the new head coach. He was a former Michigan assistant, had won the 1990 national championship at Colorado, and was available after taking a year off to spend time with the Promise Keepers. McCartney didn’t immediately deny interest, and even met with Michigan football boosters. The issue was that he and Lloyd were close friends, after having grown up together in Riverview, Michigan. McCartney said, "Lloyd was the best all-around athlete in our school from that era, I was a senior when he was in eighth grade, but he was so talented that I was aware of him. I was instrumental in talking him into the University of Missouri, but Missouri did not want to throw to the degree Lloyd did." So Lloyd, a quarterback, transferred to Northern Michigan. At any rate, McCartney took himself out of the picture after Lloyd won a few early games. "All I keep telling everyone is that I'm pulling for Lloyd. I hope he has a great year and gets a long-term contract."
After the Ann Arbor press gave up their fixation on McCartney, Joe Roberson really started talking. He publicly denied having a list but privately told the Detroit Free Press, “We are not only considering college head coaches, a top assistant like Barry Alvarez was at Notre Dame before going to Wisconsin, even a Division I-AA coach or a pro assistant with a college background. What I want is a fireball.”
A fireball! Can you imagine? When it came to naming names, Roberson said, “I'll look very, very carefully at Cam [Cameron]. He has all the characteristics you'd want and the Michigan connections. I'll get lists of 10 to 12 people from a lot of people, and everyone will have three or four names. I guess Cam will be on most of them.” Lloyd Carr let it slip that he and Roberson had discussed the coaching search when Carr said, “Cam Cameron would be great and (Minnesota Vikings defensive coordinator) Tony Dungy is another. Tony spoke here at our coaches clinic in April. But I'm not going to dwell on that; that's Joe's job.”
So in 1995, two of the top names on Joe Roberson’s list were Cam Cameron and Tony Dungy! Now 12 years later they are (or, given the Dolphins’ season, were) two of the hotter names in coaching at any level. In the end, Carr strung together a respectable season, and Roberson was impressed with the love the players on the team had for him. Team leaders like Jeremy Irons even said they’d have left the team if Carr wasn’t coaching. After the 5-0 win over Purdue, Roberson made his decision to promote Carr after seeing the locker room, "come together like it never had before."
The story from here is no secret. A championship season in 1997, a few close calls, and more recently a string of what appears to be uninspired coaching. Now Bill Martin will be in Joe Roberson’s shoes, and as Michigan fans we can only hope his approach is as inspired. That’s not to say it is easy to find a future Tony Dungy stuck coaching the secondary for the Minnesota Vikings, but Bill Martin should take the time to find them because Michigan football deserves nothing less.
Michigan's football season ended with a whimper today, and there could not have been a more appropriate, albeit disappointing, conclusion for Lloyd Carr's tenure as head football coach. The physical and tactical domination administered by the Buckeyes in yet another loss to An Ohio State University should not only set in relief just how far apart the two programs have grown but also serve as the evidence needed to finally put even the most stubborn of Lloyd Carr's supporters in touch with reality. Under Carr, Michigan has fallen behind the curve set by leading college football programs, and that is a sad truth that will stare back at all Michigan fans through a very long offseason, regardless of who leads the team next fall. With his impending retirement seemingly hinging on questions of "when" and not "if," Lloyd surely hopes to enjoy a football legacy of consistency, fortitude against the top ten, three times more wins than losses, and the magical undefeated campaign of 1997. But that image has slowly eroded this decade as Michigan has been overmatched physically and strategically by the better teams and their better coaches. Annually now, Michigan feasts on a weak Big Ten only to suffer embarrassment when it encounters schools whose players are just as good and coaches who prepare, adjust, and lead in ways that Lloyd no longer can. Using wins over the Penn States and Michigan States of this world to seal cracks in a crumbling foundation doesn't work when USC and Ohio State come to hammer away. And far from a perennial national contender, Michigan is a program in decline led by a strategic anachronism whose obstinate pride has stifled innovation and change.
The Lloyd Carr football legacy is instead one of steady consolation prizes, no matter how many times his apologists tell you about the national championship of a decade ago or the five Big Ten titles sprinkled in through 2004. No one denies those accomplishments, but they carry less and less weight as bowl losses pile up, Ohio State losses sink in, and time marches on. A coach is ultimately to be judged by the teams he puts on the field. In the past five years, Carr's have been poorly prepared for important games and incapable of executing the philosophy and strategy espoused by their leader. That's damning, as is a 5-7 bowl record, a 5-4 mark against Notre Dame during a historic down period, and a 6-7 mark that was once 5-1 against Ohio State.
A similar melancholy will also forever define Chad Henne, Mike Hart, and Jake Long. The core of a Michigan program now officially owned by Jim Tressel, HH&L will be remembered as much for their inability to win big games as for their Rose Bowl appearances and four-year starting run. Players who gave so much of themselves to the program perhaps deserve better, and yet sports is about results and not rhetoric.
But this is a moment about Lloyd Carr. Players change, but for the past thirteen years, he hasn't, to Michigan's benefit and detriment. He rides off principled and admired, leaving behind a run as Michigan's coach that engenders an endless, confounding ambivalence. It was good, but it could and should have been so much more.
I hope that we see something like this on Saturday followed by Jim Tressel punching an opposing player in a bowl game.
1) How many more documentaries will you be making about special-needs "education" programs like that one in Columbus, Ohio?
2) Will you continue to present your "education" documentaries with all of that America Undercover prison footage spliced in?
3) When is the documentary about the rivalry between Michigan and An Ohio State University being aired? I only saw that piece about those people from Ohio and their sad "lives."
Driving in my vehicle tonight, I was listening to Hot 97. (There was no chance that Miss Jones's ignorant ass would be making me crazy, and that was nice.) Forever mourning the demise of Jodeci and not exactly a connoisseur of pop R&B, I heard Rihanna and Ne-Yo's "Hate That I Love You" for the first time.
When the guitars started, I thought that Extreme had made a comeback. And then I thought I'd inadvertently switched stations. But the drums Ne-Yo used on "Sexy Love" came on, followed by someone who sounded like Rihanna and another person who was either Chris Brown or Ne-Yo. Given the drums, I deduced that it was the latter. And I suddenly realized that Hot 97 was playing some mid-tempo, acoustic pop ballad.
Were "Hate That I Love You" a Nick Lachey/JoJo collabo, it would be the exclusive property of white Top-40 stations. Absent a black person to lend it hood credibility (as Timbaland has done for golfer Justin Timberlake's electro-pop music), the song would have no chance to be mixed in among T-Pain and Swizz Beatz and everyone else filling the "urban radio" airwaves. But because it is the product of two mainstream black artists, it gets primetime spins on the most influential rap radio station in America. Oddly, T-Pain wouldn't have this problem moving in the other direction: white mass culture has always embraced black music, so the Rappa Turnt Sanga would need no racial emissary to escort him across the color line with his latest vocoder masterpiece.
There is no outrage or indignation here. Don't get it twisted. I am merely making an observation.
Straight Bangin' Drives Lloyd Carr into Retirement!
Update your address books...and Lloyd's resume!
Well, not really. But it sounds like a nice man whose time ended a few years back has finally decided to walk away from Michigan football. I will have more...
Music for a Monday on a Tuesday: Ignorance Is So Blissful
"...Youngins wanna act like Michael from The Wire/Til they realize Michael just an actor on The Wire" Most days, I listen to rap music on the way to and home from work. I try to listen at work, but often I'll find that it distracts me from effective writing or leads me to wander around the halls muttering dismissal-worthy lines, such as "I'm platinum, bitch, and I didn't have to sell out." (While I work in Midtown Manhattan, I don't work for the Knicks, so that sort of blue language doesn't fly at my place of employment.) I find that my hip-hop soundtrack commonly serves as a cocoon, insulating me from my surroundings. I remain a perspicacious fellow, but unfettered, I am able to concentrate on the music, the lyrics, the themes, the subjects--whatever comes to mind.
But then I come home. Or I meet friends for dinner. I write essays for the internets; I watch the Hornets on League Pass; I trade Arrested Development quotations over the phone with my sister; I read a magazine; I bullshit with my roommates. The hip-hop doesn't stop--Lord knows it's filled many nights--but yet it does. The boasts to which I'll strut around, the ignorance that I'll shrug off while waiting on a subway platform rocking back and forth to some dope production, the satisfying word play that I'll repeat over and over while pressed up against some fat guy who smells like McDonald's (pause)--that ceases to define my life.
For a lot of rap fans, to say nothing of the actual rappers, that's not the case. The fiction in which rappers traffic is never turned off, the destructive values peddled by the most popular MCs aren't left behind in an artistic construct. It's degrading, and it's harmful. And It's for these reasons that I approach so many 50 Cent records with cynicism and hostility: not only are they so often middling artistic works, but they also are products of an insulting soft bigotry. Even Cam'ron, whose audacious antics and bizarre rhymes distinguish him and capture my attention, is hard to stomach after a while given how insistent he is that his cartoon lifestyle be taken seriously. (Don't even get me started on the Mixtape of Which We Do Not Speak; that thing is garbage and should likely end dude's career.)
As HR smartly noted in his singular way, American Gangster promised to be simultaneously that crack, so to speak, and also a break from what, honestly, has become the sad hip-hop tedium. A Jay-Z concept album inspired by Frank Lucas's story was an intriguing proposition--a drug-obsessed concept record that would serve as a sonic rendering of the over-stylized 70's gangster flick, in the process delineating reality from fantasy through dramatization.
So I cast aside my Jay-related frustration, impatience, and disregard that had accrued since the Black Album and chose to make American Gangster my commuting music of choice.
I was smart: American Gangster is the sort of rap music you'd happily throw on and lose yourself in during a train ride. To the album's credit, it succeeds in not only setting a mood but vividly scoring the movie which inspired its title and content. Detail rich and visually evocative, Jay's rhymes are a colorful vision of street hustling, drug dealing, and the common excesses our pop culture has long depicted as the crime-boss lifestyle. That the imagery is so familiar yet so well executed helps to define the album as an admirable work of imagination. This is not T.I. trying to prove just how gully he can keep it, the Clipse losing themselves in self-rationalizing cocaine minutiae, or Jeezy's dead-serious nihilism. American Gangster is, instead, a record that wants to explore but knows that it's OK to leave that shit at the door when it returns. "Roc Boys" and "Fallin'" exemplify this spirit.
Jay falters when he reaches the boundaries of his production choices and source material. Though AG has its fair share of singles and, to appropriate a term often used in less literal contexts, street anthems, it also has its duds. "Blue Magic" is a meandering experiment that misses its mark, a common Pharrell affliction in recent years; "Hello Brooklyn" is an unengaging, disjointed mess with another lame guest spot from Most Overrated Rapper Alive; and after a while, the fascination with Frank Lucas, like the movie about him, carries on for a bit too long. If one wanted to find further fault, a person also could conclude that a primary failing of the album (and movie) is that neither successfully tells the full, ugly story it purports to address--you never really want to say goodbye to a truly bad guy. Ultimately, though, American Gangster succeeds in divorcing the escapist entertainment of drug culture from the fallacious supposed imperative to keep it real. Not nearly the operatic masterpiece that Only Built for Cuban Linx remains, AG is nonetheless a welcomed return to form for Jay-Z, and a fun idea that most rappers would have failed to pull off.
I still can't pump this at work, though. No one knows what "stick up kids is out to tax" means.
Here we see Lloyd Carr displaying his customary look of late-season bewilderment.
Thanks to a soon-ending procession of law school applications, posting has been light. Thanks to said applications, the start of the NBA season, and the rest of my life, Michigan football ruminating has been almost nonexistent this last month. That's inexcusable. So as we arrive at the portion of the season when Michigan gets embarrassed by real football programs--An Ohio State University and whichever team beats Michigan in a bowl game and then says that it knew all the plays Michigan was going to run--as Lloyd Carr presides over his happy dash toward mediocrity, I thought I'd get back into "it" with a few loose thoughts that will surely be revisited shortly.
- As I've written before, it's highly problematic if you espouse a football philosophy of running the ball well, playing tight defense, and winning the field-position battle but then cannot accomplish any of those goals. And that's Michigan under Lloyd Carr.
Maybe if Michigan had offensive linemen who were trained properly and used lifting exercises meant to make them more explosive; if Michigan had a blocking scheme that created holes with those properly trained linemen; if Michigan had an offensive line coach, offensive coordinator, and strength coach who could develop the requisite personnel; if Michigan had a defense that could tackle, get off blocks, and apply pressure consistently; if Michigan had a defensive coaching staff and strength coach who could develop the requisite personnel; if Michigan had kick returners who had both speed and moves to go with the ability to catch a punt or kickoff--maybe if it had these things, it could win important games against good teams by adhering to Lloyd's philosophy. But it doesn't, and it's so aggravating that this head coach keeps insisting on following a plan that he can't properly implement.
Argue all you want about whether Lloyd's game plans make sense--and for the record, I don't think they do, since they rarely appear to incorporate new ideas or be oriented toward attacking a given opponent's specific weaknesses. I recognize that there can be room for reasonable people to disagree. But I defy anyone to explain why this guy continually, year after year, insists on doing things only one way when it's been demonstrated through loss after loss that this one way is something which he can't deliver.
- If Chad Henne plays this coming weekend, he will likely die of pain by the fourth quarter. Anyone who saw his interception against Wisconsin saw a guy throwing with an arm that won't stay in the shoulder joint. That must be excruciating.
- This is likely sacrilegious, but I want to float an idea: Mike Hart has a negative net impact on the football program. Hart, himself, is an excellent football player. He is hard to tackle, he has redefined making something out of nothing, he is an offensive catalyst, and he is as devoted to Michigan as anyone can be. But...he's so reliably hard to tackle and so good at gaining yards when there are none to be had that the Michigan offense has become lazy and impotent without him.
First, the Wolverines seem capable of consistently executing only a handful of plays, notably run left, run right, and throw deep to Mario Manningham down the sideline. The first two only work with Hart, by the way. Second, the offensive line is bad, something partially obscured when it gets blown off the ball or doesn't open a hole but Hart still falls forward while twisting an ankle. Third, Hart's unique skills and dependability have led the coaches to create an offense in which his are the only running back skills accounted for and he is the only running back who gets meaningful carries when he's healthy. That's all well and good until he predictably gets hurt (usually because he plays too damn much) and Michigan is left to rely on other running backs with different abilities and limited experience. The cumulative result is what you saw against Wisconsin: weak offensive lineman who are not good, a running game that is both predictable and inadequate, and an offense that only seems to move the ball in desperate situations. That is pathetic. And in some inadvertent ways, it's Mike Hart's fault.
- What I don't like is that Hart seems to be the one who decides whether he practices and whether he plays. I love his spirit and enthusiasm and leadership, but there are times when he moves from lovable college kid to obnoxious personality. And a coach should be keeping him in better check.
- Which Buckeye weakness can Michigan reasonably hope to exploit this weekend?
(Please note that all memos will now carry photos of me and Isiah because we're two of the best-looking motherfuckers of all time.)
TO: Madison Square Garden Employees FROM: James Dolan DATE: November 4, 2007 RE: We Will Not Lose
Minions,
I am writing to remind you of an important Garden policy: We do not settle lawsuits.
It has come to my attention that there is some confusion surrounding this issue, and there should not be. If you read the handbook and listened to me better, you would know. At the Garden, we do not back down from fights, regardless of the circumstances, the stakes, or the "facts." If you think that we--myself, my deputies, you moron Garden employees, or the Garden, itself--seem likely to lose a lawsuit, then you are obviously making a mistake. You might even be an idiot. We will not lose. We do not lose. We should not even be sued. But I cannot stop the hoi polloi from acting like the small-minded troglodytes that they are.
Let me also address the 800-pound white gorillaphant in the arena: inept attorneys. They are killing the Garden.
A select few of you likely have read or heard that some lame judge whom I could buy and sell a million times over and his moronic jury think that the Garden fosters an inhospitable work environment in which bitches and hoes cannot feel comfortable. I assure you that this could not be further from the truth--the Garden goes out of its way to accommodate bitches and hoes. We give them hugs at work. We complement how they look. We even attempt to send them away on off-site long weekends with Garden executives. What could be nicer than that? They should show some love! But I digress. The real point is that anything you've read about this court judgment is misinformed and the result of poor legal representation. Only a lawyer could lose a slam-dunk (get the pun? Because we own the Knic--nevermind. You're probably too dumb) litigation like that which the Garden recently faced. We have appealed the decision because we will not lose, and I am personally applying my legendary diligence and oversight to the search for real attorneys who won't advise me to settle and then lose such a winnable case. Idiots!
Going forward, if you find yourself in a situation which you think could lead to a lawsuit, please notify the appropriate supervisor. He or she will elevate the situation as necessary and make sure that we are prepared while simultaneously eliminating any demoralizing thoughts of a settlement. Settlements are for losers and weak organizations like the New Jersey Nets.
I look forward to seeing you all at the Garden tonight. We will be going 81-0 this year, and I'll say what you're likely thinking: it wouldn't be possible without my stewardship. I know, but I like to carry myself with humility and grace. Let's go, Knicks!
But I don't ride out like a punk, so enjoy some links and some audible treats. Now, I am off...to work; to see American Gangster; to welcome back the Brickers; to watch Michigan put a beatdown on Michigan State; to watch the Pats put a beatdown on the Colts; and to get my ass into law school. Should be a good weekend.
- Peep game: Hip-Hop Crunch. They have a weekly internet TV show about all the latest rap news. Worth a look if you've been slacking on your RSS game (like me).
Hahaha, of course! You know my lawyers are Jewish, they be saying that all the time. So then I was watching Curb Your Enthusiasm, and Larry David—I fucks with Larry—he called Ted Danson a ‘yenta.’ Yo, I fell out laughing. That shit was crazy. I said, that’s exactly what all these folks are doin’, gossiping about me. Yentas. That’s where the ‘Cam’ron is anonymous’ came from too. Did you see that episode? That’s my shit. You have HBO On Demand? Its episode 52….
- Guru ft. Common, "State of Clarity (Remix)" One of the illest production showcases of the year. I think Solaar produced this, but the music underneath the verses is the same beat as Jay Dee's "Love Jones," so I don't know if Solaar just mixed this after Common told him to use a Dilla beat for a remix or if they liked the same sample source.
21 Preseason Wishes... Just another newjack point guard ready to help run things.
...That the point guard renaissance continues. ...That Memphis looks good in the playoffs. ...That Magic contracts season-long laryngitis. ...That the Lord, or his vessel, David Stern, smites James Dolan. ...That Jason Kidd slaps Vince Carter's kufi off if he keeps ruining fourth quarters. ...That Kevin Durant starts hating his opponents and letting them know. ...That I figure out a way to like Carmelo Anthony again. ...That Dwight Howard shatters a backboard while pinning someone. ...That Milwaukee gets its act together. ...That All-Star Weekend is a success and everyone shuts up about it. ...That Hilton Armstrong does his thing. ...That Kevin Martin finds a date for Junior Prom. ...That Ira Newble and Pau Gasol finally convert. L'Chaim! ...That Golden State doesn't settle for cheap adoration. ...That Paul Davis and Shav Randolph both get bodied out of the L (). ...That the Lig stays at least a little gully. ...That Kevin eats at Redbones, wins MVP, and learns to hate the city of Boston. ...That people calm down a little about Gil. We get it; you all like him the mostest. ...That Yi gets a bunch of random English words tattooed on his neck and back. ...That the NBA abolishes offensive fouls save for the most egregious instances. ...That Larry Brown stays the fuck away from sidelines, microphones, and me.
20 Reasons You Need to Spring for League Pass While Sign Up Is Cheap Given what I wrote below, this picture is ironic. I think.
- You're gonna need to know when Jeff Green can start playing for your fantasy team. - Memphis-Milwaukee, New Orleans-Utah, and Atlanta-Charlotte won't be on ESPN. - You will better appreciate this site's editorial bias after watching a month of Knicks games. - Minnesota actually has a lot of intriguing young players. - It may be ruthless and cold and ugly, but Kobe is on a rampage. - How else will you know whether Monta, J Smitty, Rudy Gay, MarvWill, or LaMarcus is Most Improved? - Few laughs will come as easily as those you'll get when remembering that people actually picked the Cavs to make the playoffs. - Detroit's home-job announcers are one-of-a-kind when the Pistons exceed expectations. - Localcommercials. - You'll quickly remember how good Dwyane Wade is as he goes hard to the rim every night. - The Sports Guy's old joke are lame and his new ones are about Boston. You'll probably need to watch the Celtics a lot if you want to continue finding any kind of enjoyment while reading his columns. - You should finally watch the Raptors a little. - If you share the media's obsession with the collective psyche of the Mavericks, this is the Dallas season for you! - Is there a good team most people know and talk about less than the Bulls? - Even without Oden, this year's rookie class is worth following closely. - The Spurs aren't going anywhere; you need to learn to love their defensive rotations. - Even with all of those national games, one's Phoenix quotient is hard to meet. - There's nothing good on Tuesdays, anyway. - The Lig has never had more promising talent. Bathe in it.
4 Things That Announcers Should Say Less Often or Not at All This Season Has yet to find a rule which he won't pedantically try to explain. Such a bore.
- "That rule is a point of emphasis this year." What the fuck is that? Every rule should be a point of emphasis; they're the rules. And they aren't given relative weights. Call out the NBA if it's creating some kind of tiered system. Every time an announcer says something like this, it only underscores how ridiculous the officiating can be.
- After a made field goal: "He collects his 12th point." Or his 21st. Or whatever. It's not a single point that he just collected. It was points 11 and 12, or 19, 20, and 21. But irregardlesst of that, uh, point, it just sounds stupid. If, say, Antawn Jamison is scoreless until making a free throw in the fourth quarter, I am amenable to someone saying "And that was his first point of the game." Otherwise, no.
- "Dunk shot." It's corny. And awkward. No one under 75 should be using that term.
- "We." If you're an adult, you probably shouldn't talk about any sports team of which you're not a member by insinuating that you're on it. I'll allow that sometimes it can be amusingly sarcastic:
"Why do you like the Knicks, Joey?"
"Because we're playing grab-ass at work without getting fired. That's a real-man's team!"
But those instances are a limited few. Otherwise, exhorting the team that you cover to play well by saying something akin to "we need to grab these rebounds" sounds tacky and unprofessional. I get that many local announcers are given tight parameters to which they must confine their respective "insights," but until I see a memo insisting that announcers consider themselves team members, I will be disappointed by "We." Dream Rucker Five Better than Terror Squad
PG - Baron Davis SG - Josh Smith SF - Ron Artest PF - Tyrus Thomas C - Tyson Chandler Coach: Stephen Jackson
Most Improved Player - LaMarcus Aldridge, Portland Trail Blazers Jockin' on yo bitch ass.
The long-term solace to which Blazer fans can cling this year is that without Greg Oden taking up room and being fed touches since that's what you're supposed to do with The Number One Pick, LaMarcus is going to blossom as a go-to interior scorer. His jumper will be working, his post-up moves will be refined, and he'll even get stronger taking the ball to the basket. He could easily average 20 and 8 this year. That will win him this award.
Least Improved Player - Jerome James, New York Knicks Here we see Jerome wearing the most appropriate garment he's ever owned: a garbage bag.
Well, let's see: he's committed more fouls (177) than he has accumulated assists (15) and rebounds (157) since joining the Knicks, he's already hurt, he might miss the entire year, and even when healthy he's generally useless. It gets no better with Tender-Romey.
Most Likable Player Not on or Around the Select List - Jerry Stackhouse, Dallas Mavericks He just seems nice.
When Stack came to Detroit, he was a less selfish scorer who earned the respect of his teammates and, with the assistance of Ben Wallace, helped Detroit win 50 games and ascend toward the upper echelon of the Eastern Conference. In return, he was shipped off. Obviously, the moved worked out for Detroit, but the trade and Stack's subsequent transformation into a bench stalwart seem to have forever tarred a likable player as ultimately inadequate. I really enjoyed watching Jerry with the Pistons, and I still admire his offensive repertoire. Combine that with a mellowed, engaging demeanor and you have someone to root for.
Least Likable Player, Excluding Existing Award Winners - Vince Carter, New Jersey Nets That about sums up his career.
Once the Nets' underachievement last season was memorably encapsulated by Vince's wasteful fumbling away of a crucial playoff possession, I decided that he and I were through. Again. I'd long loathed VC for the manner in which he left Toronto, but I had begun to warm up to him, as he: 1) benefited from the esteem I harbor for Jason Kidd, whom I thought might make Vince better; 2) joined my fantasy team. It didn't take, and I am back to not only disliking Vince, but resenting the way that he holds the ball and throws up 6-for-21's on a seemingly nightly basis.
Player I Most Like for No Discernable Reason - Mickael Pietrus, Golden State Warriors Well hello to you!
I'll just be honest: I have xenophobic tendencies. And a byproduct of that predisposition is an innate tendency toward condescension when considering foreigners. I often find continental Europeans who come to live in America kind of funny. They try to wear trendy clothes and blend in and all that. It's amusing. Pietrus "benefits" from my prejudice, as I see him, and I chuckle. Part of it is that the arm sleeve makes me think he's trying to keep it gully and hoping to earn that ever amorphous but oh-so-valuable American street cred. Part of it is conjuring notions of French-accented malapropisms being spewed as he participates in the quasi-crazy rituals endemic to Golden State. Part of it is that he's somehow endearingly awkward. And yes, I recognize that I am projecting an entire identity onto the man. Thus the title of this award.
Player for Whom I Feel the Most Inexplicable Sympathy - James Jones, Portland Trail Blazers I hope someone packed his lunch for him.
From the warm, broad smile to the calf-high socks that resemble a style his mother picked out for him, James Jones just seems like a blissfully naive kid. That he hasn't really caught on anywhere only reinforces the notion of vulnerability one might assume to be an aspect of his childlike identity. Again, I realize this is all imagined, but when I see James, I am suddenly sad.
Rookie of the Year Not Named Durant - Juan Carlos Navarro, Memphis Grizzlies He'll need to grow a neck beard to really emerge as a European star in America.
This is a hunch. The Grizzlies' system should allow shooters and ball handlers to play major minutes. With his polished skill set and European experience, Navarro seems like he's in an ideal situation, and he'll be contributing to a surprise team that I think will wind up in the playoffs. That's a strong candidacy. And, in general, he may not need as much time to become acclimated to the pro game.
Sixth Man of the Year - Emanuel Ginobili, San Antonio Spurs We like government names on SB
In last year's playoffs, San Antonio found a great rhythm for its rotation, and much of it owed to Emanuel's selflessness and all-court game. Confident in his role, Ginobili will be a consistent hero for the Spurs while putting up starter numbers.
Defensive Player of the Year - Tim Duncan, San Antonio Spurs Such a boring pick, and yet so deserving.
He rebounds, he blocks shots, and perhaps most importantly with regard to winning an award, he is now widely recognized for his incredible help defense. He put on a defensive clinic during last year's playoffs and people won't forget that.
Coach of the Year - Marc Iavaroni, Memphis Grizzlies Don't forget to thank the defensive rules that make run outs and movement easier.
If you install a totally new system while taking a team from the lottery to the playoffs, you deserve this award. And that's what's going to happen in Memphis.
Coach Most Likely to Submarine His Own Team - Mike Woodson, Atlanta Hawks No offense
This is a guess. The Hawks' roster looks fairly impressive--lots of skill on the wing, plenty of big men, a go-to all-star, and enough guys who can run an offense. They should finally start to appreciably improve. If not, the coach should go, because there is plenty to work with in Atlanta.
Most Valuable Player - Kevin Garnett, Boston Celtics But they still will like Larry better.
It's written in the celestial ether. A beloved media figure whose personal comeback story will align with the narrative of a once-proud franchise experiencing a resuscitation. That he puts up 20, 10, and 6 along the way for a 50-win team will make it far more justifiable. And I ain't mad at that. Kevin is an SB favorite.
Although...any year when a healthy Duncan doesn't win is suspect. And Kobe Bryant happens to be the single best basketball player in the world.
Most Valuable Shooting Guard or Swingman - Kobe Bryant, Los Angeles Lakers The embodiment of fury
LeBron has the stronger and bigger body (), but Kobe is a better shooter, a more graceful slasher, a more relentless competitor, and a superior defender.
Most Valuable Big Man - Pau Gasol, Memphis Grizzlies A crestfallen Pau is upset that he can't get a minyan together in Memphis.
Wow, am I moving to Tennessee or what? I didn't really plan things to unfold this way, but here we are. Oh well.
Allowing for the fact that this award is rightfully Duncan's but that picking him for everything is no fun, can we perhaps consider that no other big man means as much to his team as Gasol does to the Grizzlies? He anchors the offense and gets those perimeter players open looks and lanes to fill. He can score against even the premier post defenders. He blocks shots and rebounds. And this year, he'll be the single biggest reason that Memphis makes its way back out of the lottery. Phoenix can win without Amare; Houston can win without Yao. Memphis can't without Pau.
Straight Bangin' Preseason Select List We'll always love Big Poppa
Hall of Fame Members: Scottie Pippen Coach: Jeff Van Gundy Also Receiving Votes: Tim Duncan, Mike Conley, Brandon Roy, Kevin Durant, Acie Law, Tony Allen, Julian Wright, Tyrus Thomas
10) Kevin Garnett 9) Antonio McDyess 8) Rudy Gay 7) Josh Smith 6) Manu Ginobili 5) Michael Redd 4) Baron Davis 3) Hilton Armstrong 2) Dwight Howard 1) Tracy McGrady Eastern Conference Playoff Teams 1) Boston Celtics 2) Detroit Pistons 3) Miami Heat 4) Chicago Bulls 5) New Jersey Nets 6) Toronto Raptors 7) Orlando Magic 8) Milwaukee Bucks
Eastern Conference Playoffs Round 1 - Boston defeats Milwaukee in 5; Detroit defeats Orlando in 5; Miami defeats Toronto in 5; Chicago defeats New Jersey in 4
Round 2 - Boston defeats Miami in 7; Detroit defeats Chicago in 6
Round 3 - Detroit defeats Boston in 7
Western Conference Playoff Teams 1) Phoenix Suns 2) San Antonio Spurs 3) Denver Nuggets 4) Dallas Mavericks 5) Utah Jazz 6) Houston Rockets 7) Memphis Grizzlies 8) New Orleans Hornets
Western Conference Playoffs Round 1 - Phoenix defeats New Orleans in 4; San Antonio defeats Memphis in 5; Houston defeats Denver in 7; Dallas defeats Utah in 6
Round 2 - Phoenix defeats Houston in 6; San Antonio defeats Dallas in 7
Round 3 - San Antonio defeats Phoenix in 6
NBA Finals - San Antonio defeats Detroit in 5 It gets boring hearing about how supposedly boring San Antonio is.
