Final Exam

The NBA Finals are upon us, and we have a unique and exciting pairing: two scrappy, down-on-their-luck, underdog franchises have finally scraped and clawed their ways to the finals. Two starved cities, bereft of any sports success, have finally witnessed their basketball franchises earn the right to dance for all the marbles.

Wait, what?

You mean it's the Lakers vs the Celtics AGAIN. Good God! They played in the finals two years ago!

Huh?!?!

What do you mean this will be the twelfth time they've played for the Larry O'brien trophy? That's completely ridiculous!

What?!?!

What do you mean they have a combined 32 NBA titles between them???

I think I just threw-up a little bit in my mouth.

In situations like these, where neither team really needs another championship (the one team that really does? Shit, pick any other franchise, really) how do you pick who to root for? It's a sports fan conundrum.

Do you take The Lakers, the franchise from Sunny Southern California, boasting a large fanbase chalk-full of uninformed Kobe-lovers (I hear the weather is very fair in Orange County) that win championships thanks to one-sided trades and reffing gaffes?

Or do you take The Celtics, a team full dirty players, cry babies, and the certifiably insane, hailing from a sports city so successful the Feds should probably open an anti-trust investigation on the city?

It's not an easy choice. Until it's all decided, though, people will only care about one question: who will win? But honestly, who gives a rip? It's just the rich and entitled getting richer and entitled-er (making words up is fun). Why don't we ask this, instead: who should you root for? That seems like a better question, which is why the committee (of one) over here at the Mid Range J has compiled a quick little quiz to determine who you should root for in this most predictable of pairings.

Back in the good 'ol days, when both franchises were moderately likable.

It's been made real simple for you. You have only two choices for each question. Take the quiz and see who you should root for come the Thursday evening tip-off.

Question 1: Hypothetical: Your daughter is introducing you to her new boyfriend. Which option would make you less worried about how your grand kids will turnout? A) This guy? or B) this guy?

Question 2: You disagree with someone who you are collaborating with on a group project. To resolve this conflict, do you A) Smack them in the head from behind, reminding them that you are in charge? Or do you B) Bad mouth them behind their backs to the rest of the group, turn everyone against them, and force them to join another group?

Question 3: You and a friend are exchanging Christmas gifts. He gets you a nice, new iPod because he is a good friend. You, however, don't want to spend a lot of money (because only you can have nice things), so you grab a dirty shirt out of your hamper, a luke-warm soda that's been sitting in your car, two coupons for a dollar off some breakfast sandwiches, and the rights to use your old toothbrush in the future. Does this sound like a fair deal to you? A) Wow, no. Definitely no. B) You know it!

Quesiton 4: . You stub your toe on a crack in the sidewalk while walking with some friends. What do you do? A) Drop to the ground, writhing in pain, hoping your friends feel sympathetic enough to carry you the rest of the way, or B) Keep on walking, even if it means significantly slowing down your group.

Question 5: Offense wins games, but defense wins Championships. A) Agree B) Disagree

Question 6: Who is DJ Mbenga? A) A hot new disc jockey from Germany, famous for laying down some dope tracks. B) DJ Who? Never heard hear of the guy. But have I mentioned how great Kobe is?

Question 7: Which 'deformity' would you prefer to have: A) Hair like the alien from Predator or B) Ears like Mighty Mouse?

Question 8: Which sounds like a better pre-workout meal?A) Grilled chicken and rice or B ) Hennessy and candy?

Final question:

Question 9: Is commiting an act that reveals a fundamental character flaw acceptable so long as you are really good at what you do? A) No way, Jose B) Yeaaaah boy!!!!

Aaaaand times up! That's it. Not so bad, right?

The scoring is simple: If you got more A's, you should be rooting for Bean Town, if you got more B's you should be pulling for the Purple and Gold. If picking either option was tough, well, sorry. Them's the breaks kid. Choosing between these two franchises really isn't easy, but that's the reality of the situation.

They say life isn't fair. And in all honesty, neither is the NBA.

Oregon Trail

For Memorial Day weekend, I ventured up to Eugene, Oregon to visit my friend Steve in the final leg of what I like to call Scott's-end-of-college-road-trip-extravaganza, brought to you by Kia Motors. This road-trip, implemented so I could visit all my good friends from High School in far away lands before I graduated, took me to such exotic places like Berkeley and San Luis Obispo, CA. Both are great towns, especially if you like getting accosted by crazed hippies protesting something or interacting with bros sporting flat-brimmed hats and Billabong board-shorts, respectively.

But Eugene? Oh, well Eugene was different. If you want more down to earth people, some pretty solid beer, and people who love basketball? Shit, it's the place to be.

Portland and it's relationship with its only professional sports team (I learned up there that Portland is also home an MLS squad. Who knew? But that definitely doesn't count.), is akin to parents with an only child. Portland doesn't have pesky distractions like baseball or football to draw their focus away from the Blazers at the Rose Garden, and because of it, they are all-Blazers, all the time.

They dote on their team at an impressive clip. Conversations about any subject, from the weather to food, inevitably shifted back onto Brandon Roy's knee, their aging twin towers, or their need for a back up point-man. It was refreshing to watch and be a part of; I have these types conversations about the Kings all the time, and seeing it take place in a different context was like a drinking an Arnold Palmer in the July heat.

Those little jokes that I make about third string guys on the Kings? Lamenting about squandered play-off runs and what could have been? It was no different there. I learned Martell Webster has a funny release on his pull-up jumper. I discussed the merits of Nicolas Batum's defensive game. I learned that the Blazers are looking for a wing-man type or back up point guard come draft time. It was the kind of in-depth conversations that I rarely get from anyone except my core of basketball-nerds back home.

There was a mutual dislike (to put it kindly) of the Lakers. When I asked what their opinion of the Lakers was, I got "I hate them! Isn't it obvious? I'm a Blazers fan!" quite often. Well, it actually wasn't obvious they hated them to me, but then again, I'm sure Kings fans' anger toward the Lakers isn't exactly common knowledge either. But after we talked, it became clear that both franchises have suffered similar heartbreaking, soul-shattering defeats at the hands of the Evil Empire. We all know the storylines and the play-off losses, but the emotional and mental toll that those losses have had on our collective cities? The similar hurt felt in Sacto was also present in Rip City; it was a distinct, palpable longing for unanswered success and justice undelivered that transcended physical location.

Maybe it's me steering conversations in that direction. Maybe it's the playoffs reaching a fever pitch. Maybe it's the area I was visiting. Maybe it's a combination of all of the above. I can't be exactly sure, but I talked more ball Memorial Day weekend than I have during any other equivalent time frame. Not that I'm complaining--far from it. It's what I'm passionate about and finding like minded individuals, individuals that know their team and don't devolve into "Kobe is the best eva yeyeyeye"-type talk was certainly something to marvel. Nothing is quite like thoughtful, in depth sports discussion.

Come next season, I'll be keeping a close eye on them Portland Trail Blazers. I'll be rooting for Roy's Boys to bounce back after this year's early playoff exit. I'll hope Oden returns to form after his knee cap exploded and that Roy's meniscus doesn't fray like an old rope again. Thank you, Blazer faithful. You let one Kings fan know that the team of California's capitol is not alone in NBA purgatory.

Non-Conformists

Well, shit, that sure changed fast.

Last night, the Phoenix Suns, thanks to the play of (wait for it...) NOT 2-time MVP Steve Nash, (wait for it...) NOT super athletic freak Amar'e Stoudemire, and (wait for it..) NOT any of the starters, evened this bad boy of a series up. That bench, especially in the fourth quarter, came out scorching, for lack of a better word, schooling the starters of the Lakers squad en route to a 115-106 victory.

Back-door cuts, slash and kicks, crashing the offensive glass, putting opposing players through the wash. It was incredible:



Damn, does Phoenix Head Coach Alvin Gentry have stones or what? Every convention says to sit your starters the first few minutes of the fourth (or more, depending on fatigue), bringing them in with 8-9 minutes left, so they're fresh come crunch time. Screw that, Gentry thought. He let them play until the final two minutes, letting the starters back in only when the game was pretty much sealed. His bench was rolling--why stop a good thing?

All too often, we see coaches make that blunder. A bench player comes in and has the opposing teams number, but, once his allotted 4 minutes in the second quarter are up, he gets pulled. When I attended a Dallas Mavericks game this year I saw it: in a mid-December game against the Hornets, JJ Barea was having his way inside. He went 10-13 from the field, dropping 23 points in only 25 minutes. But Rick Carlisle pulled him in crunch time for... Jason Terry, who proceeded to miss 3 jumpers in a row. Why? Because Carlisle had a certain rotation and was sticking to it. Sure, having resolve is good, as is believing in your game plan, but if a guy is playing well, why not just keep him in?

Bill Simmons, in his recent 800-page tome The Book of Basketball, elaborates on this. He wonders why no one in The Association uses full-court traps anymore. Sure, ball-handling is way superior in the pros than at the college level, but he argues that an effective trap could still work wonders. Imagine, Simmons says, a team calls up 3-4 super athletic wingmen from the D-league. They don't have to be all-universe talents by any stretch, just athletic freaks. At the beginning of the second and fourth quarters, they unleash this full-court trap on the opposing team. If they don't force turnovers (although they probably will, seeing as at these two times in the game, per convention, bench players are getting their minutes), they will certainly tire the opposing bench out. A couple quick, easy buckets off of turnovers for the pressing team and the momentum shifts. The opponent bench players get tired and the starters have to come back in early, preventing the stars from getting their full rest.

Why don't more teams do this? Especially the bad ones? Shit, it's not like doing this would lower the chance of victory for teams like the T'Wolves, Nets, and Pacers.

Oftentimes coaches out-coach themselves. They keep tinkering with things instead of keeping it simple stupid. And that's the beauty of the Suns, right now. They aren't over-thinking things. They know that the Lakers have more talent at the individual level, so any advantage has to be exploited. And this bench play is a prime example.

Jared Dudley celebrates after making a huge 3 in the fourth. All possible because of some superb team-play.

The back-up squad of Barbosa, Dudley, Amundson, Frye, and Dragic is electrifying. It's the best back-up five the league has seen since the stacked Kings squad of the early 2000s (look that second-squad up; it was better than most first teams in its hey-day). All corner threes, all hustle, and all humble. No sense of undue entitlement from those guys. They are thankful to be out there, and, pardon the cliche, are leaving it all out on the hardwood.

Most notably was Goran Dragic. I mocked him earlier this month and I must admit now how wrong I was. Eating my words as I type this. He is incredible. He is pure speed. Last night, he was by far the quickest guy on the floor, no question. I would even argue he's the quickest guy left in the post-season (prove me wrong, Rondo). Not to mention he can get way more physical than the aging Steve Nash. Phoenix found its successor at the Point Guard position this post-season.

Not only is Gentry coaching like a fiend, he also looks quite sharp in a suit.

I haven't even mentioned that Phoenix zone defense, which has been getting a lot of media burn this last week. It's odd; breaking down a zone defense isn't exactly rocket surgery (or brain science, for that matter), but for some reason, those in the Lakers camp can't seem to decipher it. Perhaps it's a lack of an explosive point guard that can force a zone to collapse. Or perhaps it's the jarring revelation that the zone is negating Jackson's triangle offense by cutting off passing lanes, neutering a brutal half-court powerhouse. Or maybe they can beat it, but are just too stubborn and prideful to mix things ups. That whole situation is an enigma wrapped up in an anomaly.

Damn exciting play regardless, from top-to-bottom, for the Suns, and they even weathered a Kobe Bryant offensive onslaught, who was making every outside shot imaginable. It's back to LA for game 5, and thank the heavens. Because of Gentry's willingness to laugh in the face of convention by using all the guys on his roster and sticking with a zone defense, the Western Conference Finals is now a series. Please let it go the distance.

Thank You, Kevin Garnett

Dear Kevin Garnett,

I'd like to single you out and thank you personally for last night's stellar overtime game.

This isn't crazy news to you buddy, but this year's playoffs have been boring. A one way ticket on the Yawn-train to Snoozeville. In fact, things looked so bleak the NBA was all but ready to pass out a Lakers/Celtics contingency schedule. Already. But I'm sure you already knew that.

Your series had merely been an extension of this disappointing play. Not on the Celtics behalf, of course; you and the men in green came to play. The Magic, though, did not show up, displaying an incredible level of apathy in the first three games. But in Game four? Your nemesis, The Magic, came out playing like they should have always played.

And it's all thanks to you.

My friend Jason has a joke about you: "Not only does Kevin Garnett talk in caps, he THINKS in caps." It's totally true. You are, for lack of a better word, bat-shit-intense (Please don't kill me, man! That's how much you're into it; a one-word description of your intensity has to be stretched to three words). You care a lot. You are a barker. When your eyes are wide and bearing down on the ball, I fear for that ball's life. Put it this way: if I had kids, I wouldn't hire you as a baby sitter. No offense. Again, please don't kill me.

A quiet, reflective moment for Mr. Garnett.

But when you over-reacted to Dwight Howard boxing you out in the third quarter by throwing a fit, swinging those bony elbows, and seething with that jaw clenched at Matt Barnes (can't blame you there), you forced the playoffs to turn a corner. From that moment on, after you got T'd up, your sleepy fans at the Garden awoke. And things got chippy.

More importantly, you gave the Magic something to care about; a reason to get fired up. Sure, that may not sound like a good reason to thank you, because I'm certainly no Magic fan and seeing Orlando win wouldn't exactly define my summer. But I am a fan of basketball, and by getting hot and bothered, you made a boring Eastern Conference Finals feel like the playoffs again, at least for one night.

So on behalf of basketball fans everywhere, thank you, Big Ticket.

Always,

The Mid Range J.



P.S. -Seriously, please don't kill me.

Blessing in Disguise

On Tuesday, when the Kings received the fifth pick in the NBA lottery, those across the Cowbell Kingdom lamented: what in the hell?!? With a 15.9% chance to snag the number one overall pick, the Sacramento Kings slid to fifth. Ouch. It's a familiar sentiment: last year, with a 25% chance of getting the first overall pick, the Kings ended up receiving the fourth pick. Unlucky wouldn't even begin to describe it. Sure, it all worked out in the end, but falling that far still added insult to injury.

This may indeed suck, but I really feel it's a blessing in disguise. Sources (aka everyone who is paid to follow this kind of stuff stuff) say that John Wall, the mercurial, exciting, and naturally gifted Point Guard out of Kentucky will go first. He's an apparent game changer, a once in a generation talent, and possesses an exceptional ability to put a round ball through a hoop ten-feet off the ground.

Wall is certain to go first no matter what, which is why it makes me glad that the Kings didn't get the first-overall pick. First off, I don't know if you are aware of this, but the Kings already have a pretty good point guard. The rest of the depth at the guard position isn't bad either. The dependable Beno Udrih returned to form last season, and Ime Udoka can be relied upon to provide solid one-on-one defense, athleticism and the occasional corner three. Donte Greene, Omri Casspi, and Francisco Garcia, while playing more of the two and three spots, provide plenty of depth in the back court. Sure, these guys aren't exactly all-world talents, but hey, they are competent. There is at least some hope there.

But that Kings front court? Eeeeesh. Jason Thompson, bless his heart, couldn't stay in front of a tree on defense. The Kid is a defensive liability, possesses a streaky offensive game, and has a propensity for commiting fouls. Lots and lots of fouls. Hawes is no better. Yes, he has an outside stroke and some size. But he's too soft, lacks any shot-blocking ability, and has not yet cultivated a down-low presence.

Yup. That's a foul, JT.

The two big guys I love on the team are Jon Brockman and Carl Landry. We already know how I feel about Landry. He's tough as nails, athletic, and has both an offensive and defensive game. Meanwhile, Brockman is a hustler, through and through. The Brockness Monster plays bigger than his 6'-7'' frame would suggest and he isn't afraid to do the team's dirty work. He's an Anderson Varejao type, minus the annoying Side-Show Bob haircut. Another plus: when I had the fortune of meeting him, he shook my hand like a man.

Tyreke, here, should take notes on how to shake hands. Also, that's my arm on the left. Hi Mom!

But don't let those two fool you. The Kings need a big man. Desperately. Like the Pope is Catholic, a circle is round, and the Lakers are evil, the Kings need help inside. It's just the truth. I feared with the first pick, the Kings would be pressured into selecting John Wall. That would have been disastrous. Evans and Wall sharing the rock would have hindered their development and it would have translated into losses on the court. The Kevin Martin debacle of last year, all over again.

With the fifth pick, the Kings will have a better shot at nabbing a big man. Perfect. DeMarcus Cousins, the 6'-11'', 270 pound beast out of Kentucky is projected to go around fourth or fifth. He's right where the Kings are picking and he's exactly what they need. Sure, there are some concerns about his commitment to staying in shape, but what rookie isn't a little rough around the edges? I say his potential upside makes it worth it.

So don't feel so bad, Kings faithful. Like Garth Brooks says (er, sings?): some of God's greatest gifts are unanswered prayers.

Trust Issues

A little anecdote before I get started.

This weekend, an asshole stole my bike. My beloved Marin Larkspur, my baby, was taken from me. With what must've been a pair of giant hedge cutters, the thief snapped my lock in the dead of night. And just like that, it was gone. The bike cost five hundred big ones, and while that is indeed a pretty penny, my attachment to it went beyond that. I had spent hours on it's tiny seat, logging countless miles on those wheels.

The rest of the day was spent sulking. I sent angry text messages and began looking for a fight (watch out--pissed off 5' 7'' white guy on the war path!). If only I could track the guy down, then I would go Liam Neeson all over him. My buddy Jason gave me a call to help get me out of my angry, action-movie reenacting tailspin. He knows how much I love basketball (obvi), so to get my mind off my loss, we talked about game one between the Magic and Celtics.

I was in a coffee shop, and a gentlemen (of African American descent, not that it matters or anything) overheard us talking ball. When I mentioned that I didn't trust Rashard Lewis to hit from outside consistently in big games and that I felt he was like a "Rich Man's Channing Frye" the guy cracked up. "So true!" he said, in between fits of laughter. That made me feel a lot better. See, ESPN? Hire me! I have cross-demographic appeal!

My life is exactly like this.

Alas, I digress.

One of my favorite quotes is by Lao Tzu. It goes: He who does not trust enough, will not be trusted. (Okay that's a complete lie. I just typed "trust quotes" into Google. I'm coping with the loss of my bike; give me some slack.)

There's an inherent basketball reality in that super cheesy quote, though. Namely, trust is incredibly important for any team to be successful in the post season. I've been saying for the longest time that the Magic will come out of the East, and who knows, that may still be the case (news flash: they're good at basketball). But after Game 1, if the Celtics took the entire series, I wouldn't be at all surprised. The Magic have all the factors that analysts love to throw around when talking about contenders. Chemistry. Talent. Confidence. And while they do indeed to have all of that, I really don't see the trust.

I'm not talking about a trust in each other, per se. The Magic have rolled together all season long. They spend time together in the gym, on the road, and on the court. They trust each other, no doubt. What I mean is a trust to show up in the moment. For instance, in a big game, who would expect to show up and give it their all? Rashard Lewis or Kevin Garnett? Vince Carter or Ray Allen? Matt Barnes or Paul Pierce? Jameer Nelson or Rajon Rondo? In all four cases, I pick the Celtics. Those Celtics have so much experience in tough situations; they're hardened playoff warriors. The only edge I would give to the Magic is for Dwight Howard. But even that could very well be a toss up, as he's been known to disappear when it matters the most.

I don't mean clutch-ness, either. Games are rarely won on the final shot. The end of the first quarter, middle of the second, parts of the third, they all count. The Celtics have the ability to bring that attitude to every play of every minute. Their team defense is like the defensive phalanx in 300. It's freaking impenetrable. Their offense is crisp and precise. Those guys know what's at stake, and because of that, we can trust them to show up every play.

Meanwhile, those Magic players have been notorious for shrinking in these same moments. Lewis' overpaid threes come and go with disturbing regularity (much like Frye, but at the incredible bargain of only 8 times the price). Carter has a special account with the post office for mailing things in. Nelson, while playing great basketball, is still young. And Matt Barnes? Well, he's just an ass.

Awww, look how tough we are.

I know this is the kind of terrible, ad hoc, revisionist analysis that grinds my gears so much, but technically I never weighed in on this series. I hate to make my pick now (like anyone cares), but I will anyway: Celtics in six. The Celtics have the trust, that level of fear. The Magic do not. And people may call me crazy, but you have to remember the people who would disagree are the same people who thought the Cavaliers were Championship contenders (check the "Experts' Picks" section, bottom right). Uh huh.

As for me? I myself have been forced to deal with trust issues this weekend. I hope the tool that stole my bike gets what's coming to him.

Sunny Side Up

Because of a pair of second-round sweeps (thanks for making the playoffs boring, guys) the Suns and Lakers won't square off in the Western Conference Finals until Monday night. Since it's basically been forever and a day since either have played, I'm sure both have been taking advantage of the time to rest up, make adjustments, and participate in questionable photo-shoots.

While Kobe and company may be able to get away with playing dress up, the Suns have only a razor thin margin of error if they want to be the David to LA's Goliath. Aside from bringing a slingshot to hurl rocks at Bynum's head, this is what Alvin Gentry should be telling his squad to do.


Half-Court? Hell no.

A half-court offense should be banned from discussion in the Phoenix Suns Organization. In a half-court set, the Lakers size on defense will negate any sort of penetration off screen-and-rolls. Comparatively, The Suns are tiny: Jarron Collins (6'-11''), Channing Frye (6'-11''), Amar'e Stoudemire (6'-10''), and Louis Amundson (6'-9'') are all a few inches shorter than Andrew Bynum and Pau Gasol. And if we can take anything from the Lakers/Jazz series, it's this: giving the ball to a smaller guy around those two will result in one massive block party.

Boozer forgot to bring to the chips.

The one hope they Suns do have in this regard is the return of Robin Lopez. Out since the end of March with a bulging disk in his back, Lopez's return for the Conference Finals will be a huge plus for the Suns. He has proven to be a defensive stud, offensive rebounding beast, and registers as the biggest (255 pounds) and tallest (7'-0'') guy on the team.

Even if he can return though, the Suns will still need to push, push, push it. They will need to get into the open court and force those giants to run baseline to baseline.

Three's Company

And when they can't get out and run? They'll need to shoot the three ball at a good clip, because good two point looks will be as rare as hen's teeth. The key here will be Channing Frye. If he has it going, one of the Laker bigs will have to come out to guard him, spreading the floor and de-congesting the paint a little for the Suns. The Suns led the league in 3-point field goal percentage during the regular season, so we know they have it in them. It's on them to line 'em up and knock 'em down.

Stoke that Fire

For the Suns to have a shot, they'll have to hope that Jason Richardson and Goran Dragic will stay as hot as the Phoenix desert in the middle of July. Richardson has shot a solid 47% from the field and a blistering 52% from three-land in the Suns first ten games this post-season. His solid production is a huge lift to this Suns squad, as he tends to have a knack for taking long threes in big moments (for better or worse). When they don't go down, it kills the team. But when they do, they're daggers. J-Rich also needs to behave himself out there and not try something like this again.

Meanwhile, Goran Dragic needs to forget that he's, well, Goran Dragic. The last time he had a case of amnesia, the guy dropped 24 points in a quarter. I don't claim to be an expert, but I'm pretty sure that's really good (how's that for analysis?).

Better watch out, Wilt.

I highly doubt The Dragon will go off like that again, but he will have to step up when called upon to provide that spark off the bench.

Find Chinks in the Armor

The word on the street is that the Lakers are pretty good. It's hard to find faults, but the Suns will need to exploit the few they have. One is Derek Fisher. It's fairly common knowledge that Fish has dropped off on the defensive end in recent years. Case-in-point: Westbrook and D-Will have lit him up this post season. Steve Nash will have to do the same.

Also, save for Game 4 in Utah, Ron Artest has been shooting dismally. Give Ron Artest room at the 3-point line and pray he jacks up enough bricks to build a second Great Wall.

Not Over the Hill Yet

Whatever Grant Hill has been doing (I'm guessing he drinks this before every game), he needs to keep at it. The old timer has been rejuvenated this post season and has assumed the role of defensive stopper for the Suns. For the Western Finals, he'll have to match up against a guy named Kobe Bryant. Hill's primary goal should be to disrupt Braynt's low-post game. If Hill can pester Bryant down-low, Kobe might go away from facilitating on the block and slip back into hero mode. Thanks to a busted finger on his shooting hand, Kobe's outside game has fallen off this season. And Kobe taking contested long range shots, instead of throwing it in to his big men, will be a huge positive.




Nash Equilibrium

Nash needs to have the series of his career for the Suns to have a shot. He needs to drive at Fisher to create open threes in the corners. He needs to run the two man game to perfection with Amar'e. He has to force the issue, make threes, and get to the line. Nash has a lot on his shoulders, no doubt. This may be the two time MVP's best shot at reaching to the Finals and getting that elusive championship ring. The whole city of Phoenix is looking to him as their savior; he will have to shift into another gear to get over the hump. Oh, and Steve, you should shut up Phil while you're at it, too.

Get Lucky

Even if all of the above falls into place, the Suns will still have to get lucky. Like "Dustin Hoffman in The Graduate" lucky. They need to hope Bynum gets into foul trouble, Gasol has an off series, or that Joey Crawford is having a bad day and tosses Kobe. The Suns need to hope the Lakers don't hit their threes and hope that they make theirs.

The Suns should probably eat a bowl of this, too.

And while they're munching on hearts, stars, and horseshoes, they should probably hope the Lakers forget to set their alarms or get caught in that nasty Los Angeles traffic. Who knows? The Suns may steal a game on the road because The Lakers couldn't make it to the Staples Center in time.

The Bigger They Are...

I'll keep this one short and sweet. After last nights humbling loss to the Celtics, the Cavaliers were sent packing. It's safe to say that Cleveland basketball, for at least the next decade, has been completely murdered. It'll be harder to clean up this mess than the current oil spill in the gulf.

I had to stop watching the game early to go see Iron Man 2 with my good friend Megan (an absolutely excellent, choice mind you. Scarlett Johanson, please marry me), so I didn't see the ending to the game. But I could just tell what was going to happen. And when I got the texts from my buddies giving me the news, I knew. To Cleveland fans, I'm sure it felt something like this.

This post is now 1000% better.

There is a lot to say about last night's loss, and a lot to not say about it. Guaranteed, the sport outlets will cover all angles extensively. Montages are being made as I type. Interviews are being conducted. Speculation is abound. They will even make up new angles that hold no merit, journalistic integrity be damned.

What we do know is this: The Cavaliers aren't good enough and never were good enough to win a championship. For one, Mike Brown can't coach, not at this level. His rotations were baffling, and failing to give Anderson Varejao any sort of significant burn is patently ridiculous. Also, LeBron is human. He bleeds and wipes his ass like the rest of us. The fact is, he fell short of expectations. Expectations that other people placed on his broad shoulders. It's a cruel, unfair world, but when Mr. James mailed in performances that were insulting to his talent level and to his devoted fanbase, he deservedly incurred the media's heat.

We also know that the Celtics are for real. That wasn't a fluke series; the better team won out. And it wasn't even close. Run this series back, and the Celtics win again. Probably in 5 this time. The Magic/Celtics series, I hope, will salvage what has been a rather mundane postseason.

Of all the major sports, basketball is the one where an individual can make the most impact. It's sort of a blemish on the sport, I think, that one guy can win it for the rest of the squad. But this series showed one undeniable truth: teamball, if played how it's supposed to be played, will win out over one guy, every time. And that makes me, Red, and the basketball purists happy. One man is not, and never can be, above The Game.

There are only four teams left. Now it gets interesting. Let's put down the Cavs for now. Give the best teams in the league all the attention; they've earned it. (And for good measure, one more picture of Ms. Johansson).

The Year of the Elbow

According to people way smarter than I am, the elbow is the hardest part of the human body. In self-defense courses, students are instructed to strike with the elbow because it can deal a world of hurt very quickly. What that joint lacks in size, it more than makes up for in destructive, face-wrecking force.

So it's no surprise that in a sport like basketball, with guys flying through the air, barreling into traffic, and colliding at full speed, elbow "incidents" happen with modest regularity. Because it's so frequent, an elbow collision isn't particularly exciting or note-worthy. But this NBA season seems different. I can't recall a time where more havoc and mayhem has been caused by that little joint.

In fact, one can argue that the elbow (and all the shenanigans it has gotten into) has been the main subplot of this entire season. There have been no fewer than five significant elbow related stories that basketball pundits have covered extensively. I've done you the favor of ranking their quality below. The criteria I used to list them is entirely arbitrary, completely biased, and utterly subjective. Disagree? Tough cookies. It's my blog.

So without further adieu, The Year of the Elbow.

Number 5: LeBron's Elbow "Injury"

This story gets dead-last, because frankly, it isn't even a story. The King is acting like a baby. Sure his elbow might be sore, but then again, who doesn't have at least one nagging injury that refuses to go away? Hell, I jammed my thumb playing ball a few weeks ago, and you don't see me complaining (but seriously, my thumb hurts). Guess what, LeBron? All NBA players are dealing with pain. Nash's hip, Duncan's wooden peg-leg, Kobe's finger, etc. The list goes on and on. And don't try to play it off as the media over-hyping it. Shooting that free-throw as a leftie (check around the 3:20 mark) caused the ensuing media maelstrom. Sleep in the bed you make. This should get no more attention from anyone and it certainly won't from me. Moving on.


Number 4: Manu's Nose and Dirk's Elbow -- A Love Story

Those out of towners generally have a style all their own. From grown men wearing pastel capris to tiny, chain-smoking women sporting thick woolen scarfs in the middle of summer (both examples were seen during a summer abroad in Greece), the Euro's and fellows from south of the border don't play by the draconian fashion rules imposed by uptight United States society. But damn Ginobili, really?

This unique look (and I don't want to hear about it's medical necessity) was caused by Mr. Nowitzki's rogue left elbow. On a drive to the hoop early in the third quarter of game 3 between the Spurs and Mavericks, Ginobili's late defensive rotation put his Argentinian nose on a collision course with the German's pointy elbow. The drive-by elbowing simultaneously broke Manu's nose and launched a free advertising campaign for Kotex.

One major positive for the decidedly uncool Manu is that he now joins the very exclusive "I've Pulled-off the Band Aid as a Fashion Statement" club. I'm sure the club's president is not amused.

Peep the collision here.


Number 3: Bogut's Buck-ling 'bow

While elbows are generally known for dishing it out, this one turns the tables. An elbow was on the receiving end of the pain train this time. On a fast-break dunk against the Phoenix Suns at the end of the regular season, defensive-stud Andrew Bogut of the Milwaukee Bucks landed awkwardly on his right elbow after throwing down a monster jam. The result, well, was not pretty. Other than appearing to hurt like none other, the tumble tore major ligaments and dislocated several bones.


I'm no doctor, but I don't think an arm is supposed to bend that way.

It's a damn shame, because the Bucks were rolling at that point of the season, and Bogut was the man-in-the-middle making their Cinderella run a reality. With him out, the Bucks lost the wind in their sails and were subsequently eliminated in the first round against the Atlanta Hawks.


Number 2: Landry Loves His Sauerkraut

That Dirk and his elbows just can't stay out of trouble. During a rather mundane regular season game between the Houston Rockets and Dallas Mavericks, perhaps the most grizzly and gruesome of all the elbow incidents listed occurred. Nowitzki, with his awkwardly unique (and surprisingly effective) helter-skelter driving ability, got into the lane for what looked like an easy lay-in.

Or so he thought.

Carl Landry, the no-nonsense ex-Houston Rocket, was going to have none of it. Instead of absorbing the contact with his body however, Landry decided his pearly whites would serve as a better deterrent. The accident was so gnarly that three of Landy's teeth were embedded into Dirk's elbow. Both needed surgery to correct the damage, but only Dirk needed to take some time off. Landry bounced right back and played in the Rockets' next game, recording an astonishing 27 points. What a tough dude.


Just another day at the office for Carl "I'm Way More Manly Than You" Landry.

But the reason why this one is so great and why it holds the second place spot is because of how Landry handles himself. Watch the video again. There isn't a shred of pain on his face as he signals to the bench asking for a sub. It almost seems like he's bored with it all. He then calmly meanders to the sideline, grabs a white towel, and spits out a giant red ball of blood and dislodged teeth. Now that is how a man is supposed to deal with pain. This video should be required viewing for any Man 101 course.

Which brings us to our number 1 entry (drum roll please).....


Number 1: The Nash Gash

This elbow incident was epic on so many levels. First, you have the terrifying results:


You should probably get the kids to leave the room now.

Not only do we have Steve Nash's right eye bloodied and swollen to the point of blindness, but the future-hall-of-famer saw it fit to open his left eye as wide as possible. Don't know about you, but from here on out I'm sleeping with the lights on. Most players would call it quits after something like that, but Nash is Canadian. He has that stalwart hockey toughness built into his DNA. The spry veteran went to the locker room, got patched up, and was back in the game for the fourth quarter of their series close-out win against the San Antonio Spurs, their long-time rival.

And what a fourth quarter he had. Among redefining what it meant to execute the no-look pass (hah!), Nash dominated that last quarter. From top-to-bottom, he went off, dropping 10 points and dishing out 4 assists in the final 12 minutes of play, all while getting to wherever he wanted on the court. It's almost as if he had to one up Goran Dragic's performance from the game before, just to remind us all that this was still his team.

Sure that elbow to the noggin' may have hurt, but because of it, that game will go down in Suns lore as one of the greatest ever. We will talk about this performance in hushed voices and reflect on the "Nash Gash" game with warm, nostalgic feelings. Except Spurs fans I suppose; they are exempt from liking it.

Epic figures battling major ailments (such as Jordan's Flu Game or Kirk Gibson's Homerun in the 1988 World Series) tend to produce some of the most dramatic and iconic individual sporting performances. They capture our attention, elevate the moment, and refuse to let go of us. And on Sunday May 9th, 2010, thanks in no small part to an elbow, Nash delivered a performance that entered that storied pantheon.

And that, dear readers, is why it's The Year of the Elbow.

Running Around With Their Heads Cut Off

This weekend for Mother's Day, I played the part of good grandson and ventured down with my immediate family to Modesto, California to visit my father's parents. With the offer of free food, sunshine, and a pool, how could I say no? My parents know my weaknesses too well (starving college student), so I happily got in the car for the two hour trek. However, there was one condition. Playoff basketball is in full swing, and I can't in good conscience miss a game if I know I have the capacity to watch it. So down there, I made the mistake of watching the first half of game three between the Magic and Hawks.

My grandmother is a real sport, and decided to watch part of it with me. Now, other than knowing that Kobe is evil (I've taught her well), my grandmother knows absolutely nothing about basketball, so throughout she was asking an unusual, eclectic, and borderline uncomfortable array of questions. Highlights included:

"Why do they have so many tattoos?"

"Why are there so many black people?" and

"What part of Texas are the Magic from?"

I politely answered all her queries, because after all, it's hard to find someone actually interested in what I have to say about basketball. While holding my little press-conference, the game had begun and the Magic, as it now seems routine, were dominating from end to end. At the conclusion of the first quarter, with the Magic up 28-18, my grandmother turned to me and commented "Wow, that bird team is really, really bad."

I couldn't help but laugh. My grandmother, who knows nothing about basketball, recognized the stench that was spewing from the Atlanta Hawks. The odor traveled up through the stands, into the rafters, through the cameras, and out the TV speakers into the living room. That's how poorly and uninspired they were playing. They weren't just bad; they were atrocious. Atrocious enough that an 80 year-old woman who thought Joe Montana played basketball took notice.

In fact, throughout the rest of this post, I will refer to them not as the Atlanta Hawks, but as "That Bird Team". Because they do not deserve the name of an NBA franchise.

You, sir, suck.

That Bird Team owes everyone an apology. Everyone. I'm going to break it down.

First, That Bird Team owes my grandmother an apology. God bless her, but she's getting on in years now. She's not as young as she used to be, and one day she won't be here. She should enjoy the time she has left. And watching the pathetic excuse for basketball for an hour was a definite waste of her time. She can't get that hour back. Good job guys!

Second, the city of Atlanta. That city from the deep south has endured many terrible seasons of basketball. They are a passionate and knowledgeable fan-base. They know when to cheer, and they definitely know when to boo (hint: whenever That Bird Team takes the court). Their fans bought playoff tickets to watch them play. Those are hardworking, Salt of the Earth People and they paid good money to sit in those seats.

Third, Joe Johnson' Agent. It's hard to say just how much JJ's choke job/no show this series (3/15 from the field for only 8 points in game 3) has hurt his free agent value this off-season, but it's safe to say that his agent's commission could take a nose dive this off-season. Poor dude.

Joe Johnson, hard at work.

Fourth The good people of ESPN. They had to lug all their equipment and their staff to Atlanta to televise and cover that game. They have lives and families that they could've spent the weekend with. And poor Doris Burke and Dave O'brien. They're hardworking commentators, and forcing them to talk about something other than basketball for an entire 24-minute stretch is just unfair.

And lastly, That Bird Team owes the sport itself an apology. One-on-one basketball at this level won't work. Down at the Y, maybe. But at this level? No excuse. Make the extra pass, set firm screens, cut to the basket, move without the ball, box-out. These aren't complicated basketball concepts; these are fundamentals of the game. It's the sum of these things and much, much more that make basketball one of the greatest team sports ever. Shame on you, That Bird Team, for not doing any of that.

Of course, they went on to lose by 30 points and were booed off the court. Rightfully so. Then Joe Johnson made comments about how their fans aren't true fans. Even if he said it in a moment of frustration, he's not exempt from his choice of words. Not caring if your fans show up to games? They help feed you and put a really nice roof over your head, buddy. You can't say stuff like that when your team is playing like garbage. That's just cowardly.

They may not be worthy of the Hawks moniker, but perhaps they deserve another name: Chickens.

Go Magic. Stomp them to pieces.

What Goes Around (Sometimes) Comes Around.

Looks like some things do work out in the end.

To these eyes, in the modern era (post 2000), there have been four teams that have been tragically unlucky in the postseason. First, the Sacramento Kings. The early 2000s saw them as tops in The Association. They steam-rolled through the first rounds of the 2002 playoffs until they met the Los Angeles Lakers in the Western Conference Finals. There, through a combination of choking, unlucky breaks and poor officiating (don't deny it; you know it's true) the world saw that transcendent Kings team fall in an epic 7 game struggle.

Second is the Portland Trail-Blazers. If the Kings choked against the Lakers in 2002, then not only did the the Blazers choke, they also tripped, stumbled and wandered into oncoming traffic in the 2000 postseason. In the Game 7 of the 2000 Western Conference Finals against the Lakers, with the series on the line, the Portland Trail Blazers collapsed like a stack of cards. Up double digits with less than 10 minutes to play, the Lakers, spearheaded by a young Kobe and an in-his-prime Shaq, undressed and dismantled them in humiliating fashion.

Third, and easily most tragic are the Dallas Mavericks. Behind their floppy haired, long-ranged assassin Dirk Nowitzki, the Mavs have posted 50+ win seasons for the entire decade. They have always been almost there, every year. Of course, "almost there" is nothing but a consolation prize. Among other tragic events in their (un)storied postseason run, two stand out with stark clarity. First was the heartbreaking 4-2 series loss to the Miami Heat in the NBA Finals in 2006. Through a combination of choking, unlucky breaks and poor officiating (familiar story?) the Dallas Mavericks suffered a brutal fate as D-Wade and company lifted the Larry O'Brien Trophy at the end of the season. Second was the massive choke job in 2007, where the Mavs, seeded first with an amazing 67-15 record in the stacked Western Conference, lost in six games to the eighth seeded Golden State Warriors. Ouch.

The last team in this faltering foursome is the Phoenix Suns. If the Lakers are the Kryptonite to the Kings and Blazers, then the Spurs are that to the Phoenix Suns. Since 2003, the Suns and Spurs have met in the postseason on four separate occasions. All four times the Spurs have won. Most notable was the 2007 series between the two, when Amar'e Stoudemire was suspended for a game because he got off the bench to protect his teammate (and unquestioned team leader) Steve Nash when Robert Horry hip-checked him into the scorers table.

They say life is unfair, and they are probably right. But sometimes, the Universe has a way of correcting itself. Three out of these four teams, for the time being, will have to endure at least another season before they can exorcise their demons. But one team, the Phoenix Suns, has that opportunity right now. After last night's convincing win over the Spurs to put them up 3-0, it looks like they'll finally be able to get that monkey off their back.

We don't know how long they'll last after that (as them playing the future-champion Lakers seems to be all but guaranteed), but Phoenix fans should take comfort in the fact that at least they beat that one team that had its number. After all, the Kings, Blazers, and Mavs can't even say that much.

Go get 'em, Los Suns.

The Floor General

One undeniable truth of the NBA postseason is increased exposure. True colors always come to the surface when the lights are the brightest and all eyes are keyed on a small sample of games a night. If your team can't play defense, can't run an offensive, or can't execute under-pressure, you can bet your last buck that these faults will rear their hideous heads when it matters most.

The flip-side of that, of course, is that the best flourish under these same conditions. The Lakers and Magics of the league (and when I say "...of the league" I essentially mean just those two right now) get better. If you are cut from the cloth of winning, it will inevitably happen. Which is why it makes me so happy that my favorite player, Deron Williams, is proving throughout this Jazz playoff run that he has what it takes.

It makes me happy that the Mark Jackson and Doug Collins-types of the world are finally christening him with "Best Point-Guard Alive" status. To these eyes, he was at least one of the best two point-men the last two seasons. And this season? Nothing but stellar, nothing but the best. All it took was some exposure to show the rest of the nation what he had in the tank.

Look at this stat-line through the Jazz's first eight playoff games: 24.3 points, 10.6 assists, 1 steal, a handful of rebounds, and around two three-pointers a game. He set an NBA playoff record for notching at least 20 points and 10 assists in each of the first five contests in the playoffs. The unquestioned leader on the floor for the undermanned and undersized Jazz, D-Will took control of games and emphatically imprinted his will on that first-round 4-2 series win over the Denver Nuggets. He created open looks for CJ Miles and Kyle Korver. He threaded the needle between outstretched hands to Carlos Boozer for the easy slam, over and over. He constantly kept defenders on skates, forcing the ball down the Nuggets throat. They simply had no answer for him.

And while it looks like the run may come to an end thanks to the titan that is the Lakers (seriously, it's unfair), it's made me proud to watch him play his best ball ever at the best time, and that he's finally getting the accolades he so rightly deserves.

Everything he's done this post-season is exactly why I love this sport, why I love his game and why I try to emulate his style of play when I take to the court. Williams plays with a bounce in his step. You can see it when he takes the ball up the court with an extra sense of urgency; he's so excited to get the offense going that his gait nearly looks like he's skipping down the court. Awesome.

He's not the fastest or most athletic guy out there, but he's so, so skilled. He's crafty, knows how to slide between defenders, and runs the pick-and-pop (and screen-and-roll) with Boozer so well you can't help but compare them to Stockton and Malone. Deceptively speedy, he has the size to absorb hard fouls yet has the body control to lay it in for the And-One. And with that size he can bully smaller guards all day. Try putting a Tony Parker or Jameer Nelson on him. Williams will punish those guys with his size on the offensive end. This series, the Lakers are using the 260-pound Ron Artest to guard him; that's how much Williams' size is an issue.

And Williams walks the line between ball-hog and controlling the tempo of the game perfectly. Some point guards amass high assist totals (like Steve Nash and Chris Paul) and are undeniably great, but they have to have their hand in every single play. It's through no fault of their own this happens; they're both superstars, but their systems require the ball in their hands at all times. Williams manages to create enough havoc with a single penetration or dish off a screen to set up an open corner-three or uncovered cutter two or three passes down the road. Don't get me wrong; that's Sloan ball through and through. But it does require a stud at point to execute it.

Well done, D-Will. I'm proud of you. You've finally made it. Now, if only there was something we could do about that hairline (or lack thereof).

(And if you upset the Lakers, I'd be the happiest man on Earth.)

Cavaliers? No.

Earlier, I detailed why I picked the Lakers to win it all. Now, the flip-side: why the undisputed favorites, the Cleveland Cavaliers, won't win it.

The Cavs, under the muscle-bound wings of MVP Lebron James, coasted into the playoffs with a cool 61 wins. Best in the NBA. They beat everyone they were supposed to beat (that is, pretty much the bottom 2/3rds of the East), and even had convincing wins against teams they struggled with last year (including that huge statement win against the Lakers on Christmas day). They rolled through the season, and the first round against the Chicago Bulls. They look unstoppable, right? Wrong!

I don't see it. For one, the Cavs play in the Eastern Conference. Essentially a junior varsity league, there is no reason why the Cavs shouldn't have stomped all over the lesser teams. Imagine instead though, that they had to play in the west? Do you think that record would be as impressive? I sure don't. Instead of playing the Bulls, Heat, Bobcats, and the like, they'd have to play the Thunder, Spurs, and Blazers. All those easy wins suddenly go away.

Also, hypothetical: Remove Lebron James. Is that team any better than, say, the Raptors? Or (gulp) the Wizards? I'd say not. Without Lebron, your go-to play-maker is either Jamison or maybe Mo Williams. You can't win a championship with those two.

"Who gives a shit, Scott?" You may ask. "Because they DO have Lebron, the most unstoppable force in the game. He dunks with authority, swats layups into the next time zone, and crushes the souls of all opponents with (to borrow Mr. Harlan's phrase) no regard for human life! Why worry about it?"

Well, here's an interesting take: The Cavs are admittedly tough to beat, but it's easy to devise a strategy to beat them. Take Lebron out of the game. Granted, this is much, much easier said than done, but if (and that is a huge 'if') you can, that Cavs team becomes a wet-noodle.

I see two teams in the league that are capable of doing that: the Orlando Magic and the LA Lakers. The Orlando Magic can do it because they have the one man on the planet more athletic than Lebron--Mr. Defensive Player of the Year Dwight Howard. The undisputed shot block and rebound king, Howard is the only person who can contest Lebron at the rim. James will have to think twice about barreling into the paint. He'll have to settle for jumpers and threes. And Lebron, when it comes to long-range, is as streaky as they come.

Lebron missing shots and being unable to drive means he can't create for other teammates. All of a sudden, those wide-open 3s that Parker, West, and Williams knock down aren't there. Lebron being unable to create is bad news bears for the Cavs.

Also, hate to break it to you, but the Magic have a better, deeper, more formidable roster. Save for the small forward spot, everything else is either a toss-up or advantage Magic. They have a deeper bench too. That team is stacked; it's almost unfair.

If the Cavaliers somehow manage to get by the monstrous Magic, they'll have to face the Lakers. Yeah, instead of one seven footer contesting Lebron at the rim, he'll have to worry about Gasol, Bynum, and Odom. Not to mention Ron Artest, the world class one-on-one stopper, will be chomping at the bit to shut James down. He's already had his appetizer with Durant. Lebron, if he gets there, will be his main course.

I don't see the Cavs making it out of the East. Sorry.

Lakers? Yes.

The title gives away the take-home point of this entry. Basically this: the Lakers are too good and have my vote for winning it all, still. Why? I'll offer up criticism that doubters have lobbed at the Lakers, then refute it.

1) People say they look bored and might not flip the switch. A listless Lakers squad will lose homecourt in a series and before they know it, they'll be down 3-1 and it'll be too late to climb back. I disagree with this for two reasons:

First, The Lakers look bored out there because, frankly, they are. They field a team that is significantly better than 99% of teams in the league (only the Magic have a comparable star-studded starting roster). They can destroy any team on a given night. But they don't need to. After getting that cushy lead in the Western Conference standings, they could afford to take games off and rest players. An 82-game season is long, long, long and it's smart to hedge your bets and save those legs for the playoffs. I have no doubt that's what the Lakers did.

And second, you mean to tell me that Phil Jackson, Kobe Bryant, and Pau Gasol can't turn it on in the playoffs? Puh-lease. Those guys, as much as I hate to admit it, are bonafide studs and will do just that. See their track record, por favor.

2) Another complaint is that the bench is too weak. Sure, Jordan Farmar, Sasha Vujacic, and Luke Walton don't exactly strike fear into the hearts of opponents. But the beauty of playoff basketball is the shortened rotation. Coaches are notorious for cutting out the 9th, 10th, 11th, and 12th guys from playing rotations. Keep it small so chemistry and teamwork stays at a maximum. Right here is the reason why Lakers took games off; they have the fresh legs to implement that shortened rotation. All of a sudden Jordan Farmar and his giant ears can stay on the bench, where they belong.

3) A third complaint is pointed squarely at Derrick Fisher. The 500-year old veteran is a defensive sieve at this point. Russel Westbrook totally and completely exposed and eviscerated him in that Thunder series. But this will hardly matter. Fisher is out there for veteran experience and crunch time scoring. Remember that huge three over Nelson last year in the finals? Yeah, that's why he's there. Getting beat off the dribble is never something a team wants to see, but Fisher is fortunate in that all four other guys on the court are way, way above average at providing help defense. Sure you got by Fisher, but then you have to worry about two skilled, seven-foot shot blockers prowling the paint like hungry dogs. Good luck with that.

Honestly, I can't see anyone hanging with the Lakers. A clicking triangle offense, with constant cutting, crisp passing, and great spacing is nearly impossible to defend. It's too adaptable, deadly, and chalk-full of options. Throw in a well-coached squad that knows how to execute it. Then, mix in the best Shooting Guard alive in Bryant, the best Power Forward in the league in Gasol, a one-on-one defensive maestro in Artest, and two super athletic big men in Odom and Bynum. What do you get?

Your 2009-2010 NBA champs. Count it.