Latest NBA Brawl Reeks of Stupidity
While argument persists over how to punish each of the 10 players involved in Saturday night's brawl at Madison Square Garden, one things clear - nobody should walk away with clean hands.
An embarrasing fiasco erupted after Mardy Collins exacted a flagrant foul on J.R. Smith. Knicks rookie Collins clocked Nuggets guard Smith on a breakaway dunk attempt. Knicks coach Isiah Thomas excused the hard foul as a way of sheltering New York fans from another highlight reel play by Denver, who led at the time by 20 points.
The only thing Saturday's fight did was prolongue idiotic stereotypes about the predominately black NBA. For all David Stern has done, attempting to clean up the image of this league, a bevy of Knicks and Nuggets players erased it in a matter of seconds.
The NBA is not a pig pen of language-challenged thugs, but what the hell is the average white viewer supposed to think when 10 players have a punching contest in an ultimately meaningless game?
For those of us who were hoping the NBA might eventually earn its way to being America's favorite sport with the unmatched effort players exude each night on the court, Carmelo Anthony's face and fidgity fist makes such a dream a laughingstock.
The on-court brawl undermines players like Tim Duncan, who has never thrown a punch or lashed out at a referee or opposing player. And what about the Dallas Mavericks and the San Antonio Spurs, who fiercely come at one another, but never commence brawls.
February's Super Bowl contest featuring the Pitsburgh Steelers and Seattle Seahawks was the most boring, anti-climactic and overrated game in the history of sports. The seven game series featuring the Mavs and Spurs was ulcer-inducing, showcasing some of the most competitive athleticism in the history of the sport.
No other sport is being played at the level of professional basketball. Baseball might finish a close second. College football is driving around the neighborhood. Forget about the NFL.
The problem? None of this reality matters. Not after the childish melee that occurred on one of basketball's most historic courts. When Anthony nearly broke Collins' face in, he quickly turned history into folly.
As long as predominately white America continues to infatuate itself with a sport that should really be called "handball," basketball will have its work cut out.
Brawls happen in every sport, on all different sorts of teams, with many different ethnic makeups. However, it's the NBA's that get most of the raging attention.
The ridiculous fight in Florida has long been forgotten and has done nothing to taint the image of college football.
One brawl between two sub-par teams will now be seen as the essence of professional basketball. It's not fair, but it's life and that's why the players should be punished accordingly. Thomas and all 10 players must realize how badly they fucked up. Bad enough for this writer to use a curse word in a seemingly professional blog.
SUGGESTED PUNISHMENT FOR ANTHONY: Suspend him for half of the remaining season and dock half of his paycheck.
Hopefully Thomas and the players will realize how low they dropped
This isn't about T-Mac...Rockets choke in the clutch
When the Los Angeles Lakers need to thank someone for their miracle comeback in Friday's win over the Houston Rockets, they don't even need to nod at their own team. In the end, it wasn't Kobe Bryant's 53 points, the Lakers' cheer-igniting three pointers or Smush Parker's smothering defense on Luther Head that clinched the victory. It was the Rockets choking in the clutch. Again.
If the Rockets hadn't coughed up their commanding 21 point lead in the second half, none of the above three factors would have mattered. Houston blew it and they blew it big time. Something to the tune of 24 turnovers (more than 16 of which came in the second half), including a silly foul on Kwame Brown with less than a minute in regulation and as usual, that God-awful display of shooting. Managing 4-14 from behind the arc with the crop of shooters this team possesses is inexcusable.
Friday's loss wasn't about the absence of star guard Tracy McGrady. The Lakers played without Lamar Odom and ended on a high note, so missing a key player does not qualify as a valid excuse. The double-digit loss isn't owed to playing back-to-back nights on the road. The San Antonio Spurs played twice in a row this week and won both games.
No, this loss is about something deeper than personnel. The rockets have the players, the talent and the veteran experience. They just don't want it. I'm talking the Larry O' Brien Trophy. No other team in title contention would drop a double digit lead in a game this crucial, in a moment so highly-judged. The Rockets had an opportunity to quell the naysayers on national television and instead they blew it. Again.
The Rockets had every reason to stomp all over this B- Laker team. Kobe and co. visited Houston earlier this week and dished an upsetting loss. Thursday night, the Rockets fell to Don Nelson's Golden State Warriors, a team who can only win by enforcing an underdeveloped run-and-gun style of basketball. The Rockets should have been anguished enough to commit murder and in the first half, things seemed to be going in that direction. Houston ended the first 24 minutes ahead by 18, fueled by the superb defense of Shane Battier and the unstoppable inside touch of Yao Ming (he would also finish the night with 8 blocks), but they closed the game looking like a sickly bunch of 20 and 30 somethings who just contracted E. Coli from a Taco Bell outing.
While two road losses by themselves aren't much cause to hit the panic button, moving to 14-9 on the season is. The Rockets don't need T-Mac to earn a deep playoff berth. They need to finish what they start and learn how to make the ball go in the basket more often. The Lakers outscored the Rockets by 12 in the third quarter and by 6 in the second. The Rockets blew it. Again.
The Rockets saved themselves from a loss to Chicago, after dropping a dynamic 21 point lead. They had dropped a 19 point lead to San Antonio earlier in the week, losing that game by double digits. They led the Minnesota by a dozen in the third nearly a week ago, only to fall in the final minutes by 8. Notice a pattern here?
This isn't Game 7 of the Spurs vs. Mavs series last year, where San Antonio climbed back from a near 20-point deficit to tie, while Dallas still managed to shoot more than 50 percent from the field. No, this is pure slop, exuded from a group of guys who couldn't give less of a fuck if they had the entire City of Houston giving them the finger.
The Mavs and Spurs suffered embarrassing losses early in the season, but both of these other Texas teams have exacted the proper revenge. The Spurs lost by 9 in Golden State a few weeks ago. They returned the next week to beat the Warriors by 40 points, behind 75 points from their high-octane bench.
How long will Houston fans have to wait before the above scenario describes their Rockets?
I have stuck behind Jeff Van Gundy through the last few years of the Rockets' struggles but I can't stand idle any more. Not with this many blown leads to so many inferior teams.
If Van Gundy values his coaching job in Houston, I suggest he get his team's act together so they can maintain the massive leads they begin each game with.
Yes folks, the Rockets blew it. Again.
Van Gundy doesn't have many more agains.
CD reviews Rockstar: Supernova and Daughtry
Two CD's borne from the world of reality television fare much differently. Chris Daughtry's self-titled debut Daughtry smacks a home run while the first offering from self-dubbed supergroup Rockstar: Supernova largely strikes out.
ROCKSTAR: SUPERNOVA
Self-titled
For those who feel the television spawned rock trio featuring Tommy Lee, Gilby Clark and Jason Newsted made a paramount mistake selecting make-up covered, throat singing Candadian Lukas Rossi as its frontman, the group's debut bestows a few surprises but mostly lives up to the dissapointment. Rossi bested South African native Dilana Robichaux, Australian Toby Rand and Icelandic rock star Magni Asgeirsson in the bid to front the rock conglomerate. Many, including this reviewer, felt Rossi's win was an anti-climactic, raping of a way to end an enthralling season that finished with some memorable performances. Though Rossi rasped, gargled and murdered rock classics all season long, his inferior vocal abilities may have been the perfect fit for the triad of rock misfits whose songs were crap-tastically stupid and primative. With massive help from acclaimed producer Butch Walker, the tunes come off better in the studio, particularly singles "It's All Love" and "Be Yourself and Five Other Cliches." The musical intricacies, solo breaks and layering that was sorely absent when the group debuted its songs on national television are finally found on disc. Rossi, who clearly had some expensive vocal lessons, manages to open his throat and actually sing on 90 percent of the album. Some of his attempts at fostering a sexy falsetto are well placed while other moments sound like a dying cat, suffering from an excessive helium high. The opening number, driving rocker "It's On" is the album's finest moment by a mile. The mid-tempo rocker sports a catchy chorus; "Let it shine on, even when the day is done and all the light is gone. However, the album's apex is eclipsed by the clunkers, the royalty of which is the putrid, 70s style ode to sex "Leave the Lights On." Clark's gag-a-rific 70s garage riff meshes well with the dumbo lyrics. "So come on and leave the lights on if that's your thing..." Yeah, Tommy, real mature stuff dude. Much of the album's successes are owed to Walker's glossy production. Rossi's own ballad, "Headspin," which was vomit-inducing on the show, sounds compelling here. However, the rest of the record is a stinky pile of shit. One that barely earns its right to be flushed down the toilet.
RATING: C-
MUST-LISTENS: It's On, Can't Seem to Light This Fuse and Headspin.
DAUGHTRY
Self-titled
Chris Daughtry winning the American Idol crown seemed a surer bet than E. Coli at Taco Bell or Texas remaining a red state. Idol fans were thrown a new one, when Daughtry faced a surprise fourth-place elimination. His face showed frustration and considerable grimmace. Seacrest said he was shocked when he first saw the results. Simon Cowell's mouth opened wider than a man undergoing a $1,000 cavity removal procedure. The rocker's journey on Fox's ratings juggernaut ended all too abruptly. His debut album, thankfully, contains all the zesty ingredients we would have expected from the North Carolina native. Daughtry assembled his own lineup of musicians for his band of the same name (Though frequently-hired studio musicians including Josh Freese--guy might set a Guiness World Record for the ridiculous number of popular records he's drummed on--and guitarist Phil X play on the record). Daughtry's sultry, dynamic and electric rock voice leaves us wanting more. Daughtry, who co-wrote or wrote a majority of the songs, navigates a broad roapmap of rock stylings with his impeccable vocal abilities. It's rare that a self-proclaimed rocker can splotch together a touching ballad like "Home" and a fist-pumping rocker like "What I Want," which features Slash, and make it work. The album sags in places from the overabundance of ballads, case in point the Zac Maloy (singer of the Nixons) number "Used To." Daughtry stands his tallest when he touts his aggravated vibrato during the album's heavier moments. That doesn't mean, however, that the bald, family-man can't acheive authenticity singing tenderly and openly about his wife and kids. If anything, Daughtry's blatant sincerity is as captivating as it is cliche.
VERDICT: A-
MUST-LISTENS: It's Not Over, Home, What I Want f/Slash, All These Lives
Iverson should head to Cleveland or New Orleans
The NBA's most inevitable divorce has finally run its nasty course. Sixers team president Billy King has agreed to a deal that should have been inked before the 2006-07 season ever began.
Iverson was off to a hot start, scoring more than 40 points in a stretch of three games. The Sixers, standing at 5-12, a dismal last in the putrid Eastern Conference - not so much. And though Iverson's departure is not an act of kindheartedness or sheer foresight, both parties know it's time to move on. The question is where to?
How will Philadelphia's underperforming basketball franchise rebound from losing its dominant star guard? Tough question, but if you're Billy King, you have to wonder "can things get any worse?"
Iverson told Jim Gray he hopes a deal with Minnesota will be sealed soon. A tour with the T-Wolves means playing alongside Kevin Garnett, a prospect he's salivated over for some years. However, with the T-Wolves in the same plight at Philadelphia, should an againg veteran really put his best eggs in a basket with another aging veteran.
A duo of Iverson and Garnett, aided by swing guard Mike James and a cast of youngens could make a first round playoff dent. Getting past the first round, though, would be more of a miracle than Seabiscuit singing the entire score to Les Miserables.
I suggest Iverson place these two cities on his itinerary--New Orleans and Cleveland.
At 31 years old, AI is beginning to show the wear and tear of his 11 year tenure in the league. That doesn't mean, however, that he doesn't have enough juice to make a playoff-worthy team a title contender.
I doubt Cavs GM Jim Paxson or Hornets GM Jeff Bower have Iverson's agent on speed dial. Bidding for the "6-0 guard probably hasn't crossed the minds of management of either team. Out of the multiple teams rumored to be on Iverson's wish list, neither appears.
Iverson is a particular kind of player, jetting his own style and you can't just stick him with a good team like the Utah Jazz and expect magic to happen. Both Cleveland and New Orleans have needs that will hinder them from acheiving champion status. Cleveland, sitting at 12-7, is one of 3 teams in the abysmal Eastern Conference playing over .500 basketball. It's not like they're hitting the panic button.
However, Iverson's talents inside and off the dribble would mesh well with Lebron James's dunk-a-licious style. He'd be playing alongside a superstar; not an aging one, but a young talent who has barely sketched the surface of his budding career. Larry Hughes, who prior to his shooting performance this season, deserved the erradic shooter label, could start at the point or come off the bench. Anderson Varejao is one of the league's best defenders. He's active on all ends of the floor, but especially when he contests shots. Iverson, who is still smudged in a pack of players in the hunt for the coveted scoring title, would add more veteran voice to a young team. It would also prevent Eric Snow, a coot in my book, from being a 4th scoring option. The bottom line: Iverson heading to Philadelphia could pay dividends. Championship dividends.
All the Cavs would have to worry about is getting by which ever one of those pesky Texas teams ends up in the Finals.
