The View At The Half
This weekend will mark the midpoint of the NBA season, which is a true moment of reckoning. It’s time for owners to take stock in their teams’ fortunes — which ones have a chance to make some playoff hay, and who had better start playing the rookies and grooming the fall guy — head coach or GM, whoever has fewer contract years left.
Rather than just solely ruminate on the fortunes of the Miami Heat any longer — and let’s face it: that conceit is getting older than Charlie Sheen’s TV nephew — I figure that I would take stock, too. Why not? I’ve already made enough friends in Miami; it’s time to spread the love.
I’ll readily admit that there are far more qualified folks to speak on such weighty subjects, as whether teams should hold or fold: Ex-players with ill-fitting suits, former coaches and GMs, beady eyed sports bloggers and even that racially indeterminate host on TNT, Ernie Johnson, who freaks me out. And sure, perusing the standings, I’d thought that some of the current teams had folded years ago — I’d wrongly figured the Jazz went bye-bye when Jerry Sloan passed away. But I usually have a strong sense of momentum, I really do, and so I am offering my two cents as to the state of their unions. Free of charge. One division a week. For the next however many divisions there are. I think, like, 6 or 7. Maybe more. But not 10. Definitely not.
This week it’s the Western Conference’s Southwest Division, where the San Antonio Spurs are lulling teams to sleep with Ambien-like efficiency, Dallas is cock-teasing fans once again and Chris Paul is staring off into the middle distance, dreaming of calendar pages flipping madly by.
San Antonio Spurs (42–8)
Long after the league tired of Tim Duncan’s mumble-mumble-eye roll-sneer approach to the media, the Spurs are still threatening to bring the NBA Finals back to a tiny media market and a drab arena, and a team whose two best players are foreigners. Spurs coach Gregg Popovich has a way of convincing wily veterans to submit to his system in order to prolong their careers.
Professional bride jilter Richard Jefferson got the memo and is now a jump shooter who feasts off of collapsing defenses. The deep Spurs and their gaudy record will be there at the end, and depending upon whether or not hairy Lakers forward Pau Gasol wakes up from his season-long slumber and denies them the Western Conference, they may actually make it to the NBA Finals, in which case Commissioner Stern had better start contemplating a media rate for the cherry Four Loko.
Dallas Mavericks (35–15)
They won’t win. They never do. The Mavs plow through the regular season, dominating occasionally, and are usually a Top 3 or 4 playoff seed. I would say that bricklayin’ Jason Kidd is not getting any younger, but he can still get it done, as long as “it” doesn’t involve jumping, shooting or getting to the hoop. Or playing defense. Jason Terry is also still around hitting big threes in games that don’t matter. The team always has good athletes and supportive fans, which gives the appearance that they are a contender. Then owner Mark Cuban parades around, exhibiting muscle-shirted jackassery on the sidelines, proclaiming Dirk Nowitzki the most dangerous weapon in the playoffs. However, come playoff time, referees loosen their grip on the physical play and opponents tighten theirs on Nowitzki and poof! Mark Cuban goes back to his McMansion to play Wiffle ball with the Caeser-do’ed guys pretending to be his buddies.
New Orleans (32–20)
Chris Paul is in hell. Not literally. Because if you were a NBA basketball player (bear with me) and had to play for a city where you had zero chance of winning it all, New Orleans is a great place to do it. But slender point guards who are called upon to carry a team’s scoring (as Paul is, nightly) have a career-expectancy of about 7 years, give or take. He has some talented cohorts — David West could start on any team — but the Hornets are 6–4 over their last 10 games. You could use that proportion to play out the season and figure out that Paul will make the playoffs, but ultimately lose the war of attrition. He usually grinds down and hobbles through a round or two, and then goes home lamenting his fate: the best at his position watching lesser talents hosting hardware. But when times get tough he needs to think of the bigger picture: the 2012 Knicks team photo with Amar’e, Carmelo, the Italian kid and Landry Fields, this season’s Tayshaun-Prince-as-a-rookie.
Memphis (27–25)
A few months ago none other than my former archenemy Reggie Miller told me not to sleep on Rudy Gay who, in his mind, was about to be a breakout NBA superstar. He was referring to how the Knicks should sign him, when LeBron ultimately spurned them. I laughed and said something to the effect that we didn’t clear cap space for the likes of Gay. But I said “the likes of” in that way that meant he was a Nets-level talent. Well, Reggie was right — ouch — as Gay has become a 20-and-6 guy, while developing a nice chemistry with Zach Randolph and Mike Conley. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to visualize how good the team would be with Pau Gasol, whom the Grizz sold to the Lakers for just under $12 and Kwame Brown, rather than Marc Gasol, the margarine to Pau’s butter. OJ Mayo’s recent suspension for some kind of substance was annoying, but the Grizz still aren’t going anywhere and are two keen drafts away from being the team that loses to Oklahoma City in the playoffs.
Houston (24–28)
I have to admit: the last time I really considered Houston’s playoff chances, Yao Ming was upright, Steve Francis was bitching and T-Mac was injured, so it’s been awhile. But as I look through the roster of pretty talented players — Kevin Martin, Luis Scola, Chuck Hayes and Shane Battier are the core four — I realize something pretty quickly: this is a team made up mostly of Sixth Man of the Year candidates. They have no chance of getting out of the West, in the playoffs, so they should concentrate on trading some of their marginal players for expiring contracts and draft picks. I would also make Scola and Martin untouchable (obviously) and pimp Battier hard and Yao Ming’s contract harder. The irony here is this: if the Rockets were in the East, they’d be competing for a playoff spot.
Tony Gervino is a New York City-based editor and writer obsessed with honing his bio to make him sound quirky. He can also be found here.
Photo by Eric Kilby, from Flickr.