"ANYBODY CAN BE BEAT!" - Bart Scott

Thursday, March 22, 2012

The 10 Best NBA Celebrations, Part 2

Click the link for Part 1.

It's tough to pick ten celebrations in the NBA these days. It may not have a ready-made initialization like the "No Fun League", but with refs able to call technical fouls almost at whim and the best coaches being as crazy as a group of mathletes (Poppovich, Thibodeau, Carlisle), there's just not a lot of whimsy left in the Association. Never mind that all the crazy in the league is now solely in the form of Metta World Artest, there just aren't a lot of dramatic ballplayers.

Still, there are guys who can rock out with the best of them after a good play. Here's the top five of them in the NBA.

5. The Three Goggles/"German Three" (Dirk Nowitzki, Rudy Fernandez, Wesley Matthews, Patrick Mills)

I'd have put Brad Miller in this, but the recently retired former Bulls big man is now going to focus on hunting shows. So it's down to the men who make sharpshooting look that much cooler. 

(Note: Remember the scene from "Inglourious Basterds", when the Nazi officer makes the British spy because of the way he signals "three"? I wasn't sold on that...until I saw Dirk do the German three. The NBA: where learning happens.)


4. The "Where's the And-One?" (Dwyane Wade, Derrick Rose)

This is somewhat sarcastic, considering Wade is kind of a crybaby when it comes to fouls. But he makes some incredible shots, and D-Rose's fadeaway two on the Lakers gained legendary status during his MVP season, thanks in no small part to Stacey King ("He didn't pull a Jordan, did he? He didn't pull an MJ?")



3. The "You Can't See Me" (DeShawn Stevenson)

Come on, don't get upset. DeShawn Stevenson had to be in the top 10 of something.


2. The "Be Quiet, This is a Library"/Crowd Shush (Kris Humphries)

I'm giving this one solely to Kris Humphries because he deserves it. This is a move reserved for away games when you're in a hostile crowd, and every arena's been hostile to K-Hump after his divorce from Ms. Kardashian. America, get over it. You be happy that Kimmy's back on the market. As for Kris, he's playing good ball for the Nets and should be extra happy at the four-spot next year, after Jay-Z gets Dwight to Brooklyn. Oops, spoiler!



1. The Gunslinger (Joakim Noah)

You thought I wasn't going to be a homer? You thought I wasn't going to pick this after the lead photo in part 1? You thought Joakim Noah wasn't going to make the list? To quote Barney Frank, "On what planet do you spend most of your time?"

Joakim said it best: "No one is going to out-celebrate me. Roy Hibbert is not going to out-celebrate me."


A quick lesson before I go, cheap seaters: life is meant to be enjoyed. Whatever you do in life, make sure you have fun. So if you beat your uncle at a game of checkers, get the last parking space in front of the post office, or receive a bigger tax refund than you expected, make sure you drop off a little celebration, no matter who's around.

That reminds me, I've got to do my taxes. See you in the cheap seats.

JS

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

"It's a Celebration": The 10 Best NBA Celebration Dances, Part 1

As soon as our Caterpillar recreational basketball league started, our team discussed our most important strategy: what dance we would do after we hit a shot. Most guys went with the Discount Double-Check (dick riders). Being a Bears fan, I chose not to ride the Aaron Rodgers wave and settled on the Clark Kent (check the jump).

Two months later, our record is a dismal 3-10, our team is fracturing faster than Greg Oden, and we're looking ahead to softball season. But the celebrations haven't quit. There's been no sign of the DD-C, but me and my boy Thomas have taken to doing the Carlos Boozer yell (see below) after a big play. So that got me to thinking: what are the best NBA celebrations in the game right now? Don't worry, that's what we're here for at LitCS.
I want to yell "Grab that shit", but I think I'd get ejected.


10. The Blank Look (Blake Griffin)

What really needs to be said after you dunk on Kendrick Perkins' entire family tree?


9. The....What Is He Doing? (Russell Westbrook)

I'm never really sure what Russell Westbrook is on when he's dunking, but I need some of it. I'd get so much more work done. Or I'd just destroy things.


8. The Chest Pound/Sneer (Derrick Rose, Kevin Durant)

The face that says, "Get off my court, I'm king of this jungle." Or maybe he means "George of the Jungle".


7. The "Kobe Face" (Kobe Bryant)

If Kobe weren't so damn clutch in the late stages, I'd say he has a toothache.



6. The Step Over (Dwyane Wade via Allen Iverson)

There is nothing more disrespectful than stepping over the body of a fallen opponent. Where have you gone, Tyronn Lue?



What could be in the top 5? Look for the remainder of the list tomorrow night. Feel free to post videos of your favorite moves at the Life in the Cheap Seats group on Facebook.

JS





Monday, March 12, 2012

Derrick Rose: The Windy City Assassin

There is always the same face in the crowd.

No matter where the shot comes from or who takes it, there is always the face. As one set of players celebrate and the others slowly walk off the court, the face is always there, despairing and wishing the futile thoughts.

It can't have happened. It was too late. There's still time.


But it did happen, there was time, and now there isn't.

The face always tells the story.

The face was in Gund Arena on May 7, 1989, as a young man leaped into the air while his counterpart slumped to the wood, hands over his eyes.

Craig Ehlo.

It was there on the Spurs' bench on May 13, 2004, as a disbelieving Fish raced into the locker room.

 
Bruce Bowen.

Now, it's forever frozen on the face of a man in the Bradley Center last Wednesday night, as he looked skyward at the giant screen in bitter amazement.


Some random dude.

The face is never quite horrified or stunned. It's a mix of both, combined with that moment before anguish really hits home.

It is the face of defeat.

A killer inside

Almost exactly a year ago, an article was published in Sports Illustrated (click the jump to read), detailing exactly how Derrick Rose had risen to the top of the NBA's elite. The piece talked about Rose playing cutthroat after dark with his roommates in a north suburban gym and how he took his competitive edge from that gym to the courts of the Association. It was an engrossing read on its own, but the article was punctuated by a quote from (who else), the White Mamba:

There are the guys who get you the need baskets," says Bulls reserve forward Brian Scalabrine, referring to the vital hoops that stop runs and close out games. "I have a different word for killers. I call them mother-------. And right now, Derrick Rose is the baddest mother------ in the league by far. He is the reason we win.

Regular beat writers, sabremetricians, and Dan LeBatard would argue that this statement from Scal wasn't true a year ago, much less today. I would agree with them two weeks ago; Kevin Durant and LeBron James were clear front-runners for the MVP award. Even Rajon Rondo was doing more to carry his team than Rose, who had sat out with various maladies for some time this year.

Then Rose sank an impossible, hang-in-the-air, rainbow floater from behind the backboard over the outstretched arm of Andre Iguodala to lift the Bulls in Philadelphia. He and Luol Deng combined to payback the Pacers, and last week, Rose sank Milwaukee at the buzzer.

Last year, Rose wrested control of the game from the Bucks in the fourth quarter as easily as pulling a ripe apple from a tree. This year, with the threat of overtime on the road looming, Rose calmly dribbled between his legs, crossed over Brandon Jennings, took a hop-step backward and drained a 24-footer over Jennings' outstretched hand.

It was, as Bucks color commentator Jon McGlocklin noted, the first jump shot Rose had taken that night.

The NBA: where evil reigns supreme


In Conan the Barbarian, the Mongolian general asks Conan, "What is best in life?" and he delivers the famous line (borrowed from Genghis Khan): "To crush your enemies, to see them driven before you and to hear the lamentations of their women." So it is in the gladiator arena known as American professional sports. We wish to see our side thoroughly defeat the others so as they'll never be able to return from it. We lustily scream when fights and fisticuffs break out and boo the referees who come between them. We cheer when an opposing player or coach is ejected, and only go home happy if the other side can taste utter defeat while our guys relish in the day's victory.


American professional athletes have to straddle a fine line between mannered and grotesque. We want our players to "play nice" until crunch time comes. Then, we foam at the mouth for the earth-shattering dunks, long jumpers and blocks that will completely demoralize the other team. We, the screaming denizens of the cheap seats, want complete and final victory.

There are men who've realized that, and were elevated to hero status for it. Pete Rose played baseball with a motor constantly at 8,000 revolutions-per-minute, damn Ray Fosse's shoulder. Lawrence Taylor ended a man's career...and went on to star in movies. Michael Jordan talked about Bryon Russell in his Hall of Fame speech as if Russell had just challenged him to one-on-one in the parking lot.

All these men were reasonable men who turned into monsters when they stepped between the lines. And that's just what we wanted. As I said in the "The Kevin Durant Problem", we especially thirst for these cold-blooded ballers in the NBA. Men like Iverson, Shaq, Kobe, Magic and Bird who delighted in crushing their enemies on a daily basis further served to satisfy our visceral urges.

Bad mother-----s, as Brian Scalabrine would say. Now Derrick Rose is among them.

Linsanity arrives


Jeremy Lin showed a glimpse of the killer instinct fans crave when he dropped in a spot-up three over Jose Calderon and the Raptors a month ago, and when he turned Lakerland on its head by outdueling Kobe at Madison Square Garden. Still, the young man from Palo Alto has undergone some growing pains recently and the Knicks can't seem to get around being a break-even team.

Still, I defended Lin in this space, and will continue to do so. He is what purists such as Shaquille O'Neal and Zachary Casson Berg have been wishing for in the era of Rose and Westbrook: a traditional point guard. He can shoot the jumper, drive and score, pass well and hit free throws when fouled. But in this matchup with Derrick Rose, I will surprised if he comes out alive.

After all, Rose has proven himself to be an assassin in his young career. Every good assassin saves a bullet for the tougher targets.

And when Lin goes down, somewhere in New York, there will be the face.

The face is always there at the end.

See you in the cheap seats.

JS

Saturday, March 10, 2012

On Losing a Legend



Brian Spicklemire discusses the five stages of losing his QB.



Well, we’re here, at a point that I never wanted to think about. A point that a mere four months ago I didn’t think would actually happen.

Peyton Manning, the most important athlete that the city of Indianapolis has ever known, is no longer an Indianapolis Colt.

His impact to the team and the city has been written about time and time again, but it bears repeating: his presence and play elevated this franchise, saved them from departing for Los Angeles, built a brand new stadium and brought the Super Bowl to Indianapolis. He was a remarkable citizen, extremely charitable, (his name is on two children's hospitals in town) and seemingly just a nice, down-to-earth kinda guy.

He was able to read a defense at the line of scrimmage as easy as you or I read a take-out menu, and always had the right audible ready to go. He made "ohmigoshdidyoujustseethat?" passes down the seam to Reggie Wayne as effortlessly as he made us laugh in dozens of commercials.

He was our quarterback.

This time last year, living in the aftermath of a disappointing, injury-plagued 2010 campaign and wild-card round loss to the Sanchize, I was looking forward to the team re-grouping, filling some gaps along the offensive line in the draft, re-signing Manning to a contract that would last for the rest of his career, and making a run at playing in the Super Bowl that our own city was hosting.

Then came reports of a second neck surgery, and the prospect of him missing training camp. Then came news of a third neck surgery, and that he would miss the season opener and end his consecutive-games streak happened. Then, the ‘Suck for Luck’ jokes started popping up on local sports talk radio shows. Then, the jokes got serious. Then 2-14 happened, and owner Jim Irsay and Manning started going back and forth in sharp P.R. statements that had all the charm of two middle-schoolers trying to dump the other one, but make sure everyone knows, ‘Hey, it’s not my fault, it’s their fault.’

Then, it happened. We had seen it coming, but when the words ‘Peyton Manning to be released from the Colts’ flashed across my screen, it was still surreal. The presser was tough to watch. Irsay clearly cared about Manning, and had a tough, heart-wrenching decision to make. Manning cared about staying in one place where he meant so much for his whole career, something his Dad never got a chance to do, and you could tell from the choked words that he cared about the fans, cared about the city.

It was an awful decision to make, but it was the right one. Irsay and the Colts are clearly in full rebuilding mode, as evidenced by the fire sale they had Friday afternoon, releasing 4 key pieces from the two Super Bowl runs, and Curtis Painter, and reportedly shopping Dwight Freeney out to the highest bidder. The Colts have Andrew Luck to look forward to, (and if he can win a single game with this now depleted roster, then he deserves all the hype that’s been heaped on him,) and probably have the inside track on next year’s #1 pick.

As sad as I am to see Manning go, I’m glad for him that he doesn’t have to play behind an empty O-line and get his teeth kicked in every week throughout the rebuilding project. I’m glad he has a chance to go somewhere and cement his legacy as the great quarterback to ever play them game. As sports fans, we’d be losing out if Manning never played again, or was stuck on a team that was going nowhere. There’s no greater shame then to have a transcendent player stuck on a pathetic team that has no way out, (cue Steve Nash nodding sadly.) I don’t know where he goes from here, but I hope it’s someplace that puts him in a position to win immediately.

Oddly enough, I think the best landing spot for him is with the guy he replaced as Colts QB 14 years ago, and coached up his replacement at Stanford, (though I doubt San Francisco would give him a serious look; they’re oddly content with Alex Smith.) Of the most likely landing spots, (Denver, Arizona, and Miami,) the best place for him is probably Denver, (great defense and strong running game, same combo that won Elway his Super Bowls in the twilight if his career) or Arizona, (Larry Fitzgerald is probably the best receiver in the game, and he’d have most of his games in a controlled/friendly-weather environment.)

If he wants to win immediately, he goes to one of those two places. On the other hand, if he cares about proving to everyone once and for all that he’s better than Brady, he’d have his chance to go head to head with the Patriots and Belichick, (who’s head space he currently resides,) if he goes to Miami, (and would unquestionably have the highest selling jersey in the history of sports.) The Dolphins could make him the richest player in the NFL, but I don’t think we see him announce that he’s taking his talents to south beach.

At the press conference, Manning talked about the uncertainty of his future and reflected on the past, saying "I haven't thought about yet where I'll play, but I have thought about where I've been. I've been blessed." It was the stoic, thoughtful Manning response we’ve come to respect, but interspersed with the tearful, choked words as the memories of his time in Indy came back to him. And those same words made me reflect about where I was for the major moments of his career. Where I was when through all the twelve win seasons and tough play-off losses. Where I was when he led the comeback against the Patriots in the 2006 AFC championship game, on the way to a Super Bowl victory. It reminded me where I was when he scared Belichick into going for it on 4th-and-2 deep in his own territory. And it reminded me where I was when he took his last snap as a Colt, sitting in my seat at Lucas Oil Stadium, ‘The House Peyton Built,’ trying to one last time put the team on his shoulders and elevate the players around him and beat the Jets in that AFC Wildcard round. And if not for Jim Caldwell’s boneheaded time-out, he might have done it.
 
At the end of the Q&A section of the press conference Wednesday, Peyton was asked if he had anything to prove when he came back, wherever that may be. He brushed it off, saying that at this point in his career he wasn’t thinking about those sorts of things. But I think he’s wrong. I got a voicemail from Chris Friday night saying that he overheard a conversation between father and son. The son had reportedly asked who Peyton Manning was, and the father replied, “That’s Eli’s brother.” Manning’s injury caused him to miss the year-of-the-QB, where not only did Drew Brees break Marino’s longstanding single-season passing yards record, but 3 quarterback threw for over 5,000 yards. New rules have made quarterback the single most important position in sports, and it’s up to Manning now to prove that he’s the class of that position. I hope he comes back to the game and picks up where he left off. I hope he breaks every passing related record that exists, (except for all-time interception leader, Favre can keep that one,) and makes the case for his 5th MVP award. I hope he leads his next team to a Super Bowl, and puts on the kind of aerial assault that I’ve become accustomed to over the years. I hope he’s great again, because we’re all richer as sports fans when he is.
 
And I hope that when it’s all said and done, he comes back home to Indianapolis.
 
 
Brian Spicklemire is a composer, percussionist, and graduate student at Butler University, where his thesis is currently driving him crazy. Check out his work on Soundcloud and on his website at http://www.brianspicklemire.com.