Last week, Baron Davis threw the Golden State Warriors for a big time loop. Despite being owed over seventeen million dollars for the final year of his contract by the Bay, he decided to opt out in favor of a new, long term contract from the Los Angeles Clippers. The Clippers, despite the fact that it now seems they may lose Elton Brand to either the Philadelphia 76ers or those same scorned Warriors, likely would have been interested in Davis regardless; he’s a local legend, raised in South Central Los Angeles, and combines the sort of skill, exuberance, and flash that typically enthralls an LA crowd. It seems symptomatic of America’s two coastal capitals, LA and New York City, that a player will invariably be remembered for how they perform in the clutch, and that performance will be weighted more heavily against their complete body of work. In that regard, Davis will no doubt leave a positive footprint on the Clipper franchise.

I had the good fortune to see Davis play in person over a dozen times last year, as well as watching nearly every other game he played in years past for my beloved Warriors on TV, and I will say at the outset that he is fantastically thrilling. Knowing before a game that Davis would be playing point for Golden State became, for me, a source of hope. Not the general, reluctant, “aw shucks, maybe we can hang with these boys” sort of hope, but rather, the kind that heartens in a way that doesn’t need to be spoken. As an avatar for gutsy underdogs, you’ll find no better than Lord Baron.

The grab by the Clippers, though, seems uncharacteristic; Donald Sterling is known as an incompetent owner primarily due to his tight purse-strings, and at sixty-five million over five years, Davis is going to be making big money well into his mid thirties, and he has a troubling history of lower body injuries. Even last year, when he was lauded for playing a full, eighty-two game season, any Warriors fan can tell you that he was not fully healthy for some of that time. He played through aches and pains, which is admirable, but by year’s end his motor was clearly low on oil. His body is a world-class anomaly, a quick and fast guard bolstered by bursting muscle. But that very strength may be his undoing; even when in perfect physical shape, his bulky frame at times seems to be too tightly wound and heavy for his legs and his stamina to compensate. In any event, the inherent risk of this signing, especially given the torturous grind that is the Western Conference, suggests that Davis may have inspired some hope in Clippers management as well. This is the sort of signing a team makes when it starts thinking about championships.

During the NBA Finals, back when my Baron Davis “the city” throwback jersey was still temporally accurate (though anachronistic), I started pondering something as I watched Rajon Rondo and Derek Fisher square off. Neither of the two are what you would consider great point guards. Rondo is certainly more athletic, and can play exceptional defense, but his jump shot was so unsteady that the Lakers opted not to bother playing perimeter defense on him. Fisher, despite his reputation as a rugged, clutch veteran, is also a far substandard point guard by nearly any statistical measure, his biggest skill being shooting from deep, and his biggest weakness being most anything else sans flopping.

It fascinated me that during what seemed to be a year of unprecedented guard strength, the two teams that would be standing at year’s end would be two with such flawed players running the show. In both cases, the reason this was possible seemed clear; neither Fisher nor Rondo were truly running their team’s offenses. The Celtics’ triumvirate set the tone in the half-court offense, and Kobe Bryant certainly enjoys having the ball in his hand. It got me thinking, though- how many point guards have won championships while being the best players on their team?

If the Clippers manage to keep Brand, you could still make the case that Davis is the more important player; it is at the very least an argument to be had. If Brand leaves, Davis is the unquestioned star of the bizarro, Clipper Staples Center. But can a team win a title with a jack-of-all-trades, ball dominating point guard? A saunter through the history books doesn’t look promising.

Champion Starting Point Guards Since 1990:

‘08 - Rajon Rondo

‘07 - Tony Parker

‘06 - Jason Williams

‘05 - Tony Parker

‘04 - Chauncey Billups

‘03 - Tony Parker

‘02 - Derek Fisher

‘01 - Derek Fisher

‘00 - Derek Fisher

‘99 - Avery Johnson

‘98 - Ron Harper

‘97 - Ron Harper

‘96 - Ron Harper

‘95 - Kenny Smith

‘94 - Kenny Smith

‘93 - BJ Armstrong

‘92 - John Paxson

‘91 - John Paxson

‘90 - Isiah Thomas

This is a very interesting list for a few reasons. The first is that only two of these men could reasonably be argued to be the best player on their team, Billups and Thomas. Tony Parker did win the Finals MVP in ‘07, but you’d be hard pressed to find many people who would argue then, or now, that Parker is better than Tim Duncan, who is still putting up hall of fame worthy seasons. Jason Williams would be hard pressed to find a single NBA team he could start for today. Derek Fisher is more of an undersized shooting guard than a true point, and shoots a mediocre percentage at that. The only guy on that list who had what you’d consider a prolific assist average was Isiah, who averaged 9.3 per game for his career. If you calculate the career assist average for this entire list, it comes out to a paltry 5.9 assists per game, not laughably bad, but not what you’d expect from a great (or “elite”) point.

Now certainly, maybe you’re wondering where Scottie Pippen is on this list, since he was more “point” than Ron Harper. And that’s quite true. However, it speaks to my overall conclusion, that teams which place the heaviest responsibilities for production on a conventional point guard seem doomed to fail. Pippen, whether you consider him a guard or a forward, is certainly a peculiarity for that position. Similarly, Magic Johnson like Pippen was a physical force uncommon for his skill set. In a nutshell, the conventional wisdom regarding great point guard play (“the prototype,” a guard between six-one and six-three who can drive, pass, and shoot from range) seems to be a false idol in recent years. While John Stockton, Jason Kidd, Steve Nash, Baron Davis, Chris Paul and Deron Williams’ ultimate achievements to this point amount to little more than epic failure, Derek Fisher is sitting at home polishing his rings.

So I urge a bit of caution to Clippers fans who are conjuring up visions of a Baron-Brand championship collaboration. In fact, I urge caution to Clippers fans who even think those two will guarantee a playoff spot. As I learned last year, Baron Davis can be thrilling, dominating, clutch and cool as a cucumber. Unfortunately, he can be all those things and leave you sitting in the ninth seed. He can save your soul and break your heart. But then again, so can many “dominant” point guards.

Just read over on Mavs Moneyball that the main man who runs fireavery.com may be in the midst of a libel suit. Apparently Avery Johnson filed a suit against him sometime yesterday. When coupled with Cuban's recent attempt to ban bloggers from the locker room, it seems the Dallas Mavericks are no friend of us internet folk. Cuban has tried to dispell some of the web backlash following his blogger ban by clarifying his views, but the underlying sense I get from his explanation still sprouts from a dissatisfaction that people can disseminate opinions in a public setting for free.

In any case, I hope for the fireavery guy's sake this was a hoax story or something. While I'm not sure what legal leverage Avery has (I suspect fairly little), the threat of even a fruitless lawsuit getting thrown at you is enough to make you parse your words. Hopefully this will be just another distraction for the Mavs.

Also, Avery Johnson has a stupid, silly voice. Let's see if he sues me...

Stumbled upon this an hour or so ago on Yardbarker, which then linked to the original article by a Boston area sports blog...

http://www.bostonsportz.com/blog/2007/12/8/yet-another-reason-to-boycott-espn.html

It seems that ESPN is hosting a poll question with a few anti-Boston possibilities for fans to pick from. One of them is if fans want to see Garnett blow out his knee this weekend. Whether or not this is meant humorously, it crosses a major line that is normally respected by all major sports news outlets and journalists, namely, you do not in any way intimate that you want a player to suffer any injury, let alone one as horrendous as a blown knee.

I bought NBA 2k8 the day it came out, quite excited to finally be able to get some high quality, next generation console basketballing going, and overall I must say I've been very impressed. I've noticed, however, two trends when I've played against the computer. I'd say I've played as the Warriors against the Mavericks four or five times. Every game, the Mavs push out to an eight of nine point lead until the last five minutes of the game, at which point it seems anybody I trot out absolutely cannot miss a jumpshot. I won each and every one of the games. I found myself wondering if the designers of the game, mostly bay area Warriors fans (their office overlooks the Northgate mall in Terra Linda) had tinkered with the game at all to make the Mavs particularly susceptible to getting thumped in Oakland.

The other side to this coin, however, is more distressing. I've probably played six or seven games against the Jazz, and I haven't won a single game. It's beyond just getting out rebounded, which I would expect, but whenever I play Utah the computer puts up CRAZY numbers. Last night I played a game against Utah, since I have a sort of comfort habit of playing a game against whatever opponent the Warriors are gonna go against. I spent almost the entire game trailing about ten points, which is pretty much how it always goes when I play them. But it's a lead that the Jazz were sustaining in such a ridiculous and improbable way, as the Jazz were outrunning and outgunning me, Kirilenko was dropping fadeaway threes, and Gordon Giricek was making like he was Michael Jordan. Deron Williams could waltz to the basket whenever he wanted, since he was markedly quicker on offense and defense than Baron was.

As I entered the last five minutes of the game, things started to turn. Boozer started shooting long jumpers, and I was getting fast breaks off the boards. With 1.4 seconds to go, Matt Barnes hit a sweeping layup for the Warriors first lead of the game, 111-109. The Jazz called time, and Boozer took the ball at halfcourt for the inbounds. Kirilenko ran out to about thirty five feet, took the pass, and hit a line drive three point fadeaway with Azubuike's hand in his face, giving the Jazz a 112-111 win. It was perhaps the most deflated I think I know how to feel after a loss in something purely imaginary.

Anyways, if anybody involved with the making of that game happens to read this, I appreciate how fallible the Mavs seem to be, but couldn't you have eased up the Jazz a little bit? It's not like Carlos Boozer is a damn scoring champ.

Anyways, here was the scoring report from my futile effort...

GS
DAVIS 24/7/12
BELINELLI 23/4/4
BARNES 18/8/1
BIEDRINS 17/17/3 (3 BLK)
ELLIS 14/3/0
PIETRUS 8/2/0
AZUBUIKE 3/3/0
O'BRYANT 2/2/0 (2 BLK)

UTAH
OKUR 31/12/3 (3 BLK)
BOOZER 30/17/3
GIRICEK 25/7/1 (1 BLK)
KIRILENKO 19/9/2 (2 BLK)
WILLIAMS 7/6/32 (1 BLK)

Just to highlight, that is indeed 32 assists by Deron Williams. So the way I figure, if Utah needs Deron to dish out 32 assists to win at the buzzer, we're in pretty good shape tonight, ne?

The beginning of this is something I posted over at the JustBBall message boards when I read that the Lakers were thinking about bringing in Derek Fisher, possibly using their MLE on him. I felt like bringing up some of these observations about Fisher, because I think some people are under a grave misconception about how good of a player he really is.

Derek Fisher is by all accounts a very classy and very kind guy, who's gone through a real rough time. That said, from a basketball standpoint, it's worth keeping in mind that the Warriors traded him to Utah because he simply wasn't that good. He has a good spot up three point shot, and can finish under the basket, but isn't very skilled with the ball, and last year, shot a terrible percentage from the field. Because he exuded the bluecollar ethic that Utah fans so love, and because of his inspirational performance in the playoffs, I think people are either reluctant to mention his basketball shortcomings, or simply don't realize. Last year for the Jazz, he started 61 games for them, and scored 10 points per, with three assists.

Important to note, though, is that he shot a mere .382 from the field, and only .308 on threes, which is supposed to be his strength. In fact, his career shooting percentage in 11 years is a shade under .400.

While he's lauded for his defense, he stands only six foot one, and makes a lot of mistakes gambling on steals and flopping for calls. He was praised for his role in beating Golden State in game two of the playoffs last year, and certainly he was the gamechanging factor, but that isolated performance shouldn't trick anyone into thinking that at 32 he's a five year MLE player. If he and Baron Davis went at it, Davis would prevail 9 times out of 10. The fact that Davis had been logging heavy, draining minutes the entire postseason while Fisher had arrived during the third quarter completely rested was never addressed, but I tend to think that may have played as much of a role in the outcome of that game as anything.

Derek Fisher is a great guy, a great teammate, and a great father. But, in all honesty, he isn't, and never has been, a great point guard.

The media's fascination with Fisher is understandable. I noticed its origins years before his daughter's tragic condition became public knowledge. It began to swirl about when Fisher hit the .4 second shot to beat San Antonio in the playoffs, the shot some people say should never, and could never have been. With every three pointer he hit, the reputation gre stronger. "Clutch. Veteran. Competitor." Very familiar lines to NBA fans, all adjectives you'll often hear attributed to players that are lauded, despite the numbers just not adding up.

************************************************
Nice piece! I gave it a plug on Ballhype.
- Atma Brother #1

Ballhype - Debunking the Fisher myth

...or at least that's the feeling I'm getting.

We as Warriors fans all know that Chris Mullin is the supreme overlord of, if not deception, at least misdirection and guile when it comes to the draft. Monta Ellis and Andris Biedrins, two of the best young players in the NBA, pretty much materialized out of nowhere thanks to Chris Mullin's excellent scouting, and his willingness to take a risk. Mullin understands and appreciates that it doesn't always matter where a player came from and who he played against when you're able to spot certain things in their game. Telltale signs of NBA sized talent.

I remember reading a recap article about the Warriors summer league team the first year Biedrins played, and it mentioned Mullin pointing out a play in which AB cut to the basket, called for the ball, and caught it and tipped it in, all in perfect fluidity. He remarked that there aren't many big men who could've made that play, and he knew that Andris was a hard enough worker that he'd straighten out his shortcomings and accent his strengths. Biedrins more than any other player displays the value of work put in. I wouldn't be surprised if his free throwing improved to the mid 60% range next year, just on my faith in his desire to get better.

With Biedrins and Perovic (who I keep forgetting we have, but could be a very useful player), Mullin has shown a dedication to scouting the foreign player. This piqued my interest because the folks at nbadraft.net have the Warriors using their first second round pick on a player I've never heard of, but a player that from the sound of it, I wouldn't mind having.

http://www.nbadraft.net/admincp/profiles/petterikoponen.html

Petteri Koponen, a 6-4 pure point guard from Finland. Would there, could there be anything more delightful than Mullin snagging another talented young foreign player? It seems to me to be the best way to keep your team competitive if you don't have choice picks. Many teams shy away from foreign draft picks due to questions about quality of competition, but evidence seems to suggest that if you have top notch scouting guys, you can rebuild as you win by taking lottery pick talent that the rest of the league is afraid of. The Spurs netting Parker and Ginobili obviously stands out. Those are players they drafted after already winning their first title.

C'mon, Mullin. Make something happen.

This guy currently isn't projected to be drafted at nbadraft.net, but his name is kicking around on some ESPN lists. Played at mid-major Jackson State, a 6-5 guard who can shoot and score from anywhere. While it's generally accepted that we need rebounding help, with the possible departures of Pietrus and Barnes, and the injury worries around Baron and Richardson, depth at the guard spots could disappear in a hurry. The few articles and clips I've seen of Johnson make him sound mighty enticing,  his final college game being an opening round loss to the Gators in the tourney. Important to note, though, is that he still scored over 20 points and distributed the ball nicely with 5 assists against wat is known as a stifling Florida defense. He also stated that the Jackson State offense was not a strict playcalling offense, rather, that it was based heavily on cuts and motion, and making smart passes. That sounds suspiciously similar to the sort of system Don Nelson would like to operate.

Obviously, if there's a quality big man, you have to snatch him, but if Johnson is still around at our second pick, I'd sure like to take him.

It wasn't the moments after the Warriors season ending loss to the Jazz that I became legitimately sad and nostalgic. Quite the contrary. Immediately after the loss, while the lack of any anxiety over a coming game left me feeling decidedly strange and empty, I was washed over with a great deal of calm. The conclusion of what had been the most inspirational season of any sports team I had witnessed put me in a very philosophical mood.

Rather, it was the day after that got me. Specifically, as I was watching Cleveland and New Jersey trade jabs and whiff haymakers for 48 minutes. It was a low scoring game, to be sure, but not because of defense. It was humiliating to watch.  I was reminded of a post game show for one of the Warriors wins against the Mavs wherein Jim Barnett stated, with a great deal of dramatic bravado, "the Warriors are a damn good team."

I think similar emphasis could be placed on what lousy teams New Jersey and Cleveland are.

The Cleveland Cavaliers have built their team around LeBron James, or so they would like you to believe. As somebody who is a die hard fan of basketball and will basically watch any game that's on, I've seen a handful of Cleveland games over the past few years. I also remember vividly the years before James' arrival, when the Cavs were battling the Warriors for the futility championship. And you know what? If you take him off the team now, they're just as dismal as before. It's certainly a credit to his abilities that he's led his team to fifty wins, because honestly, without him, I don't think they'd crack 25. And that's 25 eastern wins, mind you.

New Jersey, while a team with more balance, plays an equally joyless and draining style of basketball that makes me gag. They feature a future hall of fame point guard trying to involve two swingmen who, for all their athletic ability, never fail to bore me. Richard Jefferson is, at his best, a smooth and reliable player, but Vince Carter is the real frustration. If ever a player had the physical tools to "be like Mike," this guy is it. I've often thought that Jason Richardon and Vince Carter are like one player split in half. Similar skills, similar reputations for dunking ability. If Richardson had Carter's better handle, and Carter had Richardson's fire and work ethic, you'd be looking at some pretty scary players.

Anyways, after a couple hours of watching the Cavs piss on their home court and the Nets rely on Mikki "I still play like I'm UNDER 30" Moore, I had a sudden, sickening realization.

Neither of these teams could beat the Warriors. It wouldn't even be close. The Nets simply aren't consistent enough over a long stretch of time, and Jason Kidd is too old to run with them. Neither team has a dominating rebounder who could bang inside. LeBron James is EXACTLY the kind of extremely well-marketed, clean cut superstar that Stephen Jackson would love to eat for lunch.

So, while ESPN analysts will be talking about LEBRON'S MARCH TO DESTINY (which going through the  Arenas-less Wizards and the flimsy Nets is really more of a saunter), I'll be thinking about one thing: Eric Snow trying to guard Baron Davis. I hope nobody will be too confused if they catch me laughing to myself.

Does anybody know if the team is expecting to give any opportunity for some fans to gather and show these guys our support? Or even if there's a welcoming party planned? I think it'd be nice. While we're now likely doomed to a Spurs/Pistons championship round, I don't think either of those teams will be talked about years from now, and I think this one will.

Also, maybe a little positive vibes could coerse Barnes to stick around? Free agency makes me edgy.

I edged my way down the row of seats, row seven of section 219, to be exact. I took my customary seat, number nine, two from the wall. The guy sitting next to me stuck his hand out, and I shook his hand firmly. While we'd barely exchanged any sort of words throughout the playoff run, there was a pleasant charm in recognizing somebody who's been there the whole time, with more or les the same angle on the action.

The two seat to my right were occupied by my mother and ten year old brother, which admittedly hurt my abilities as a fan, since my occasional impulse to curse under my breath or hiss at a bad call would be stymied by their presence. Regardless, I was feeling good about things. And why wouldn't I? This was, of course, Oakland, Warrior City.

I had been nervous before the game, but as always, these fears evaporated as I entered the arena. How, I wondered, could the team lose in here?

As it turned out, I was about to get just the demonstration I needed. Baron Davis jumpers clanking off the rim. Free throws richoeting tis way and that. Stephen Jackson trying to drive down the middle and fumbling the ball for what seemed like the tenth time. My eyes constantly darted at the scoreboard. Just stay close. Win quarters. Win runs. Even just minutes.

I've heard it said that a team cannot blame a loss on the officials if they failed to convert their freethrows, open shots, and layups, because a good team perseveres through that. In consideration of that, I saw that I couldn't pin the unsettling feel of the game on the refs. Whether or not I viewed the officiating as an occasional farce that allowed the Jazz to physically abuse the Warriors whilst drawing fouls on a number of evident flops was irrelevant (though I did), because when the Warriors made it to the line, they weren't hitting, so it seemed perhaps meaningless even had they gotten the call.

I inhaled sharply as a Derek Fisher three from the left side swished through the net. It was suddenly clear. They were going to lose.

"That's the only damn thing Derek Fisher can do with with a basketball," I yelled to nobody in particular. "The only thing, and he's wide open!"

As the fans filed out following the final buzzer (to their credit, most all stayed to the end), the mood was understandably somber. As I slowly inched my way out the gates in the deadlocked lines of traffic, I briefly found myself thinking about what a shame it was, to beat Dallas and to fall short against Utah. My bitterness gathered as the night wore on, and I fell asleep thinking mainly about how much I hated Carlos Boozer. Thankfully, though, my thinking changed earlier today.

As I was walking down to the fishing bait store to buy some line for my friend, I was startled by a car honking its horn as it sped past. I looked up to see a guy leaning from the window, fist held in the air. "I believe," he yelled, having spied my shirt. I shot him a thumbs up in response, delighted to find that the community spirit hadn't diminished.

It is with great pride and great confidence that I now declare we will win game 5. Why? Because, as I realized, I owe this team. Even in the money I've spent on tickets, food vendors, and other Warriors junk, the money spent hasn't come close to overvaluing the experience this team has given me, and it's my firm suspicion that this is true for many.

No matter what it seems like, how bad it may be looking, we owe this team. Which is why I'll still say they'll win, no matter the dire circumstance.

Besides... who is Deron Williams, anyways?