Don't Quit Your Day Job

Now that the dust is finally settling from the Nuclear War that was the Free Agency bonanza, I'd like us to take one last look back into the past and examine the 2009-2010 season before it forever disappears in the rear-view mirror. Now, I'm not going to dispense any awards for anything that happened on the court. And I'm not even going to doll out accolades for anything player related; rather, I want us to not forgot some of the absolute terrible predictions so-called "experts" espoused at the beginning of the season.

Look, I understand that predicting anything in sports is like getting Mike Bibby to care on defense. It's really, really tough to do. But some of these predictions were so utterly atrocious that looking back from the future, we can easily laugh.

Bibby trying out this thing called "guarding his man."

First up, ESPN's Western Conference Predictions. Ok, sure they got the Lakers at the first seed right. But my dog could've done that. After that? Total crap shoot. ESPN failed to get a single team right. San Antonio, at number 2? Yeah, that's a ludicrously dumb ceiling, guys (overrating the Spurs seemed to be a trend). Then the Hornets at seven!?! Maybe for their chances in the lottery. But by far the worst was the omission of the Thunder. The experts at Bristol had the electrifying Oklahoma City squad ranked below such outfits as the Clippers and Rockets, and placed them just one game better than the Warriors.

Next, their Eastern Conference Predictions. Once again, the incorrectness continues. Sure, they got the Cavaliers right at number 1, but if there's one thing that was established, it was that Cleveland boasted (we can say that in the past tense now, sadly) the best regular season team. They beat all the teams they are supposed to beat, did well on the road, and held serve at home. But when it came to good teams, they folded like a stack of cards. Granted, the experts did nail the top four seeds in the East, albeit in slightly varying orders. The bottom half, though? Not so much. Putting Philly in the playoffs was all kinds of adorable. And omitting the upstart Bucks from the post-season picture entirely was just plain offensive.

Their Rookie of the Year Predictions were also just as bad. See Tyreke Evans or Brandon Jennings in there? Yup, me neither. Moving along.

Then, for Free Agency predictions, ESPN once again swung and missed. Can't blame the panelists on this one, though. They forgot that LeBron James lacked a spine or any shred of decency.

Another pretty bad prediction.

Finally, the good stuff. The Championship predictions. Of all the experts polled, the most popular choice was the Lakers. But somehow, someway, a majority still thought a team other than the Lakers would take home the Larry O'Brien Trophy. The second most popular team was the Cavs. Here's one of the better quotes from one of the panelists:

• "The Cleveland Cavaliers were the league's most dominant team last season with a 10.0-point differential per 100 possessions. Their probable path to an NBA championship was pushed off course by an Orlando Magic team uniquely suited to exploit their vulnerabilities. Don't count on that happening two years in a row. With the additions of Shaquille O'Neal and some very effective wing defenders, the Cavs have insured that there isn't a system in the league that can hijack their championship hopes in 2009-10."

Hilarously wrong. Now, ESPN wisely removed the name of the author of this quote to avoid embarrassment. Wise choice. But, whoever wrote this clearly had a love of stats and pretended to use them like he knew what he was talking about. The likely culprit? John Hollinger.

Next up, one about the Spurs:

• "Championship-caliber teams don't stick around for a decade anymore, but the Spurs keep surviving. I love the offseason additions for Tim Duncan's team, and trust they'll be a top West seed and go all the way."

Yeeee-ouch. Couldn't be more wrong.

And one about the Magic:

• "Orlando, of course. Take the league's best defense, subtract the overrated Hedo Turkoglu and add Vince Carter to a lineup that already had three All-Stars, and what do you have? A team that's ready to handle Boston (again) and Cleveland (again) and get past a somewhat aging Lakers team (to whom the Magic gave away two Finals games in June)."

"Already had three All-stars"? Please tell me you aren't including Rashard Lewis in that. Please.

Now, these all have been as off the mark as a Dwight Howard free throw. But, I've saved the best for last, from one Mr. Bill Simmons.

"Referencing Teen Wolf in every one of my columns? Now that's a lock."

Let's make one thing clear: I enjoy reading Bill Simmons. I used to love him until I realized that a) he thought Stephen Curry should be ROY over Tyreke Evans because he was "more fun to play with" and b) he gets a lot of mileage by overusing outdated pop-culture references in his writing. But he's an entertaining writer. However, after reading this paragraph, it becomes clear that entertaining is all he is:

• "This particular Spurs team has the right level of appropriate fear: fear of aging and complacency coupled with an appreciation for how fast things can fall apart (thanks to Manu's ankle the past two seasons), and beyond that, the reality that their best player might only have one great season left in him. I am a Spurs junkie. I love reading about them. I love the way they put their rosters together and value chemistry so deeply. I love the way they interact during games (as I've written many times). I just get a kick out of them. And the truth is, this might be their last chance for a dominant season with Tim Duncan leading the way. I think it happens. If only because great basketball players have a habit of somehow finding that one great team. They are my pick to win in 2010. Convincingly"

Convincingly? Really? Oh my. The only thing I'm convinced about now is that the experts really have no idea what they are talking about.

State of the Blog

Dear Mid Range J faithful (hey mama!)

I apologize for the dearth of updates over the past few weeks. I want to let you know, however, that this drought is not for a lack of wanting to write; rather, it's because I've had a lack of time to write. OK, that's not exactly true--I do have time to write (notice how you tend to make time for the things you love?), it's just that I don't have the energy to write.

I've been mired in back-to-back-back (AAU!) 30+ hour work weeks at my new job. Since it's a gym, and I'm charged with opening it several times a week, my sleep schedule has been all kinds of messed up. Getting up at 3:30am a couple times a week does that to a person. I am but a man, and after all that work, writing is just not something I want to do.

Also, don't know if you noticed, but it's the off-season, and things tend to slow down a bit once basketball stops being played. Shocker I know. I mean, stuff is going on--apparently LeBron decided to sign with some team in Florida. I'm pretty sure it was with the Jacksonville Jaguars. But for the most part, there isn't anything super exciting going on.

In all seriousness, it's stuff like the free agent frenzy that makes it hard to write, at least for me. Sure, I could weigh in on the LeBron Debacle (Lebracle, if you will), or the new three headed monster that is the Miami Heat, or Dan Gilbert's open-letter to Cavs fans (The most shocking facet of the letter? He wrote it in Comic Sans. Really.), but what would that accomplish? Everyone, my grandmother included, has an opinin on it.

All I would be doing would be contributing to the noise. And if the World Cup has taught us anything, it's that we do not need anymore vuvuzelas.

Or Soccer fans.

It seems to me sports writing is synonymous with regurgitation. The powers that be (ESPN, Yahoo!, Sports Illustrated, etc) tend to set the agenda, create the talking points, and direct everyone's focus. After a while, everyone starts sounding the same. Watch Around The Horn, then PTI, then Sportscenter, and you'll start to see what I mean.

I don't want to sound the same as everyone else. I know that last sentence is the stuff of angsty teens, but it's true. If I came on here and wrote about how I disagreed with LeBron's handling of his free agency, what would that accomplish? Everyone's already said it. Doing so would be a waste of my time and an even bigger waste of yours.

What does all this mean, then? In a nutshell: it's tough coming up with fresh takes on things. And if I do find something unique to chime in on, it takes a fair amount of time to write it up and give it that nice coat of paint.

But I digress. My point is this:I'll definitely keep The Mid Range J updated, just not as regularly as I used to. But don't tune me out, por favor. I definitely have some ideas for posts, it's just they may not come as regularly as they used to.

Oh, and go Kings.

Fashionistas

It's safe to say that over the years the style of the NBA has changed significantly. From Cousy's booty shorts, to Dr. J's rocking 'fro, to Walton's Wimbledon outfit (truly one of the greatest looks in the history of time), back to, um, Stockton's booty shorts, the NBA has certainly gone through the spin cycle when it comes to fashion.

The more things change, the more they stay the same.

Needless to say, the current generation perennially mocks the styles of yore. What were they thinking? We muse. How could they get up in the morning, put on those shorts, and think that looked good? Great questions. No one, ever, needs to see that much man-leg. Ever. And some of the hairstyles, like the buzz-fade (think Pippen circa 1994) were questionable at best. You won't get any argument from me there.

Here's the rub though: while some styles of old may be an affront to the senses, this current generation has no room to talk. Without a doubt, we will look back at this era and wonder "what-in-the-hell-they-were-thinking?!?!", more so than any other time. And there is one particular facet of today's fashion that puts this generation in sole possession of the title "Worst Dressed Ever". It's not the overly baggy shorts. It's not the corn-rows. It's not the neck tattoos.

It is, of course, the shooter sleeve.

I'd gouge my eyes out too if I had to wear that thing.

A horrible hybrid between a broken condom and a tube sock, the shooter sleeve is so unfathomably dumb looking that it borders on the incomprehensible. Who thought it would be cool to wrap your shooting arm (the arm that you want to grant as much freedom of movement as possible) in saran wrap?

Turns out this isn't a rhetorical question. The first instance of it can be traced back to Allen Iverson. The small dog with a huge heart, AI first sported the sleeve for actual utilitarian reasons. In 2001 doctors prescribed the band to help protect his right elbow from a recurring bout with bursitis. Of course, that year Iverson lead his ragtag 76ers squad to the NBA Finals against a juggernaut Lakers team, handing Shaq, Kobe and company their only playoff defeat that year during game 1 of the NBA Finals.

One moment in particular from that game cemented the shooter sleeve's popularity:

The amount of things going on in that moment created a perfect storm of exposure for the sleeve. A transcendent star (Iverson) on the biggest stage (the NBA Finals) draining a crucial crunch time shot (helping seal the 107-101 upset) over an unlikeable opposing defender (Tyrone Lue) playing for a heavy favorite (the Lakers) through a stalwart combination of grit, skill, and determination (that shot capped off an unanswered 7 point offensive explosion for AI) sealed the deal. If that was not enough, Iverson's swagger-tastic walk over a prone Lue further cemented its staying power.

That shot was replayed over and over, and as a result, the sleeve got exceeding (if not unintentional) nation-wide exposure.

And with that, it was off to the races. Players (without any recorded instance of elbow injuries) in the following seasons began to wear the shooter sleeve. Superstars took to it as well; Kobe Bryant, LeBron James, Dwayne Wade, Chris Paul, and more all embraced the sleeve. They took it too adorable levels too, coordinating their their shooter sleeves with their uniforms and other accessories.

Now, there are theories abound regarding the sleeve. Some conspiracy theorists state that many players have to wear it to cover up gang-related tattoos. Others say that the padding is needed thanks in part to the increased physicality of the modern game. NBA players would have you believe that they wear it because it prevents sweat from the forearm from reaching the shooting hand while simultaneously aiding blood circulation. There's also the school of thought that it could prevent future elbow injuries. The NBA store doesn't care what you think; they just want you to pick one up for only $14.99 (For a tube of spandex with the NBA logo on it? What a steal!)

Having worn one myself for a couple games of pick-up (borrowed it, I swear), I call bollocks. The only thing it does is make your arm ridiculously, grossly, been-in-the-sauna-for-an-hour sweaty. It's also a major distraction; every time I'd pull up for a shot, my eye would be drawn to the large black-tube engulfing my poor arm. Needless to say, my shooting performance suffered.

The one benefit of it all is this: in thirty years when we're not busy shuttling around in our flying cars or trying to liberate ourselves from our despotic robot overlords, we can look back on this time in the NBA fondly and get a good chuckle out of the style that was.

And look on the bright-side: at least they aren't wearing cut-offs anymore.