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.)