"Hey, you guys need one more?" part 1

ESPN Page 2's Patrick Hruby wrote a pair of great articles detailing some of the different types of ballers that lace it up and take it to the blacktop for pick-up games. You can find both of them here and here. While both articles were super excellent, I still felt they were a tad incomplete. So, like any good writer, I blatantly ripped off the idea and wrote my own piece about it. Over this week and the next I'll detail all the guys I've met in my time playing and identify their closest NBA equivalent. Hopefully, after reading this, the next time you hear someone ask, "hey, you guys need one more?" you'll know exactly what you are getting into if you let him play.

1. The-Guy-Who-Takes-Things-Waaaay-Too-Seriously

This guy treats any game of pick-up like it's a Game 7 of the NBA Finals. No smiles. No high-fives. No "hey, good shot, man." Nothing. It's all business, all the time. He tends to be quite decent; he knows how to play, how to board, and how to hit the open cutter. There are definitely worse guys to have on your squad. But, there's just one little problem: it's not Game 7 of the NBA Finals. His level of intensity goes so far above and beyond what is called for in a game of pick-up that it's almost laughable. Just don't let him see you laugh, though. He won't be afraid to get on your case about your lack of commitment to the team (a team, mind you, that didn't exist five minutes ago).

He'll mutter under his breath when you miss a shot, shake his head in disappointment when you turn it over, and jut his jaw out when he makes a big play. This guy will dive for errant balls that don't have a snowflakes chance in Hell of being in play, just so he can crash to the floor in a vain attempt to demonstrate his commitment to winning (and use it as evidence against you later for that one time you failed to box-out your man). While you may win with a dude like this, he'll get under the skin of your entire squad, making you and your teammates wish he would just leave so you guys could go back to, you know, having fun.

Closest NBA equivalent: Kobe Bryant

You're very lucky murder is illegal in California, Shannon.

2. The Jokester

While The-Guy-Who-Takes-Things-Waaaay-Too-Seriously is all about winning, this guy is just the opposite. He could give a rip who wins the game. He's only there to get some cheap laughs and pal around with the bros. Give him the ball? He dribbles like a chicken with it's head-cut off. On defense? He'll try to bear-hug, titty-twist, and tickle his man. He'll try to imitate his favorite player, not run back on defense, shoot the ball from the half-court, and practice his lame stand-up routine throughout the game.

Sad thing is, this guy isn't even that funny. The early laughs he gets before the game aren't because his stuff is good, but rather because people feel bad that he keeps trying to extract a chuckle out of the crowd. Unfortunately, all these laughs do is fuel his one-man comedy-dream. The Jokester will then continue to pursue that dream right then and there. In the middle of a game. You think he would realize that a basketball contest isn't exactly the best time to crack wise, but apparently The Jokester missed the memo.

Closest NBA equivalent: LeBron James

I hate to interrupt your fun and games, LeBron, but it's halfway through the second quarter.

3. The Over-Accessorizer

The Over-Accessorizer can be spotted a mile away. The guy dresses like a traveling advertisement for the NBA: long socks, ankle-guards, wristbands, headband (maybe two, usually on upside-down), fashionable knee braces, finger tape, shooter sleeves. The list goes on and on. He'll also always be sporting a retro jersey of a current player and the newest pair of Jordans. The ones that cost 300 dollars. The one's that he waited for in-line at Footlocker. At midnight. For three hours.

Of course, the guy sucks. Maybe he's a step slower because he's sporting fifty pounds of gear. Or maybe he's slower because he had to check himself out in the mirror on that last trip down the court. The reason for his suckage really isn't clear. The one thing that is clear? All that money spent on gear should've gone towards basketball lessons.

Closest NBA equivalent: Josh Smith

I swear, Josh Smith is under there somewhere.

4. The Marksmen
(My city league team definitely encountered the guy that inspired this entry.)

Simply put, the Marksmen can shoot well. Exceedingly well. Give him some space to start out the game and he'll hit the open three. Next trip down the court, he'll pull-up and drain it again. Third time down, if you pick him up at the 3-point line, he'll pull up from 35 feet away and send the ball ripping through the bottom of the net. Try and guard him at 35 feet? He'll call for a pick, dribble around the screen, pull-up, and tickle the twine from long range. It's infuriating; every time he pulls up from that far away, any coach that has every coached the game tells you to let him take it. Because for most guys, that shot will go in 0 times out of 10. But for him? Oh, that's right in his range.

Thing is, this guy isn't great by any other measurement. In fact, he's pretty unspectacular. But it's because of these shortcomings that he's developed a money jumper. Shoulders squared, elbow directly under the ball, perfect flick of the wrist, swish. Every time. From anywhere. Even giving The Marksmen an inch of separation is too much. Often portly and short, this guy will smoke your entire team by hitting 6 straight long-balls that put the game away before your squad can even manage to throw together 3 buckets.

Talk about embarrassing.

Closest NBA equivalent: Ray Allen in the body of Sean May

This is about as creepy as it gets (Much thanks to Todd Zais for this bad-boy).

5. The Big Little Man

This guy is the opposite of the Little Big Man, in nearly every conceivable way. While the the Little Big Guy hurts his team by jacking up bad shots and under-utilizing his size, the Big Little Guy does just the opposite. He'll take the ball into the lost post, and, like a pro, head-fake one way, then reverse-pivot the other for an easy lay-up. His footwork down low is absolute money, and the little hooks and tear drops he sinks around defenders a good six inches taller than him is something to marvel.

And don't forget his rebounding. Somehow, someway, this guy always comes up with the board. Don't ask how. Don't ask why. Science continues to fail to explain how The Big Little Guy manages to rebound at a better clip than everyone else on the floor. Maybe it's luck? Maybe it's his speed? Anticipation? Telepathic ability? Your guess is as good as mine. Having him on your team is great because he'll always keep a possession alive. Your team could throw up brick after brick and The Big Little Guy will corral the ball off the rim, kick it back out, and let the offensive set start all over again.

His larger-than-expected size translates on defense too. He'll have no problem getting physical and bodying up guys twice his size in the low post. He'll bang down low, contest his man's baby hook, box him out, and crash that glass to get the rebound. His play is decidedly ugly, but damned effective, and it is as impressive a feat as there can be in a pick-up game. One warning, though: don't let him shoot jump-shots or try anything with finesse. His game is ugly, through and through, for both good and bad.

Closest NBA equivalent: Andre Miller

Fun fact: This bucket was only worth 1 point. It's all part of the NBA's "half-basket bonanza" promotion, a new campaign designed to give teams in the East a chance.

6. The Lefty

When playing defense, one of the first tenets students of the game are taught is to force your man to dribble with their off-hand. If he's a righty, force him left; if he's a lefty, force him right. It's simple; less dominant hands tend to have worse ball control, and gathering the rock on a lay-up with that other hand is a lot more difficult to execute. Since most people in the world are right-handed, the general rule of thumb is to force guys left. Simple.

The Lefty, however, will take that simple adage and burn you for it. You cut-off the right lane, but the guy takes you to the hoop with ease. Dribble, dribble, left step, right step, lay-in. No biggie--it was probably a fluke, so it won't happen again. But then he does do it again. And again. Then one time when he pulls up for three, with his left hand underneath the ball and his right guiding the rock, it dawns on you: this guy is The Lefty.

There's one in every game, usually. Maybe two. Never more than that though. But if you are the unlucky guy guarding him and don't know that? Be prepared to look like Mike Bibby on defense for a few plays until you figure it out. Of course, by that time, your teammates hate you for playing matador defense, and your team is probably down a couple buckets.

Way to go, champ.

Closest NBA equivalent: Manu Ginobli

Your dirty little secret's out of the bag now, bucko.