Kobe vs. Jordan - a tale of two flu games

Kobe Bryant has played a careerlong game of one-upmanship with the NBA's greatest. This is most pronounced with Michael Jordan, the player with whom he is most often compared. It's no secret that Kobe wants to be the greatest ever and that he's almost painfully aware that to be so considered, he has to surmount Jordan in achievement and legacy.

There is no end of comparison. Their careers cross over on many levels, from skills, to gifts, desire and even career achievement. Despite his stated protests, by so patently aiming to dethrone the NBA's all-time greatest, Kobe actively invites the Jordan comparison. And he can't ever hope to win. This futile struggle, perhaps more than any other, is the core of his narrative. He will never be as universally respected and admired as Jordan; his presence in the internet era (where naysayers proliferate) and the simple fact that he is so often compared to his motivation underlines that.

Bryant is certainly admirable: his desire to be the best and to work hard to achieve is laudable; his blatant pursuit of the title “Greatest Ever” even lays bare an honesty not normally associated with pro ballers, least of all the enigmatic Bryant and calculating Jordan. However, that honesty works against him: Jordan never felt the need to publicly state his ambition/case for being the best baller ever; it was unstated and dignified.

It is telling that Kobe has felt – and at times appears to service – that need.

Book review: Sacred Hoops, by Phil Jackson

Phil Jackson is one of the greatest and the most respected coaches in the modern era. Jackson is famous for being the man who moulded the Chicago Bulls from being almost solely reliant upon Michael Jordan, into a NBA championship force as a team (with a lot of help from Jordan as well). Following from this he was able to control the egos of Kobe Bryant and Shaquille O'Neal as he coached the Los Angeles Lakers to championships as well.

Cover Image Courtesy of bookdepository.co.uk

Jackson is also described as being not your a-typical personality of professional sports and someone a little 'left of centre'. Although this may be true one must recognise the following: 1) That in the egotistical world of professional sport it is hardly difficult to be considered different; and 2) having read this book I wonder how much of the perception of Jackson is objective and not down to his own self prophecy.

Sacred Hoops purports to be a description of the spiritual journey that Phil Jackson has gone on during his life and career in basketball and also the spiritual journey he sought to lead the unstoppable Chicago Bulls on as they won six championships in the 1990's. At best it is a philosophical reflection as rarely could it be said that Jackson describes his research or reflection as looking beyond his self for the divine.

In reality as I read through the book it felt more like a cobbled together series of quotes from Christianity, Buddhism, and Native American tribal culture that speak to the events in Jacksons career with the benefit of hindsight. This probably is not a 100% true statement, Jackson no doubt is widely read and has been for a great proportion of his life, but it appears too cute in places during this read that these single quotations from religious texts can speak wholly to the scenarios described by Jackson without reference to the greater contexts of the religious texts themselves. One could even go as far to say that it is disrespectful to practitioners of each of these religions that Jackson seemingly cherry picks bits and pieces that suit him and his story.

For those of us who grew up through the 1990's and loved Basketball and the Chicago Bulls for a period will get some satisfaction from reading back through the history of these great seasons where basketball glory rained heavily on the Windy City. Jackson does provide an honest insiders view of what he believed made the Chicago Bulls tick during this period and what helped them to be one of the most successful teams in history.

But it is not a great read. Particularly so if you reflect back (with greater hindsight) that if Jackson truly led this team (and its individuals) on a spiritual journey to betterment should they have obtained some more permanent value? Why is it then that most have seemed to continues living as ego-maniacs post their playing days?  One star.

By Ben Roberts

Book review: Man in the Middle, by John Amaechi

A re-post from our affiliate book review site, Books with Balls.

John Amaechi's NBA career comprised a series of "What if" moments. What if he hadn't been spotted in the street by a basketball talent scout? What if he went to a different college? What if he hadn't turned down $17 million guaranteed from the Lakers to stay in Orlando for one thirtieth the salary?

In his memoir "Man in the Middle", he adds one more: what if he had stepped out of the closet during his basketball career?

When England wicketkeeper Steven Davies came out this year, his actions were seen as heroic and a positive step in the battle to fight bigotry in the testosterone-fuelled major leagues.

When Amaechi published his autobiography in 2007, it was met with disdain from Tim Hardaway and comments from stars like Charles Barkley and LeBron James which were equal parts helpful and harmful. The truth is that no matter how much it may have helped others, John Amaechi would have been seriously disadvantaged - or unable even to play in the League - by admitting his sexuality. Telling a teammate would almost certainly result in pariah status and significantly lessen his chances of making a difference in the world.

courtesy: barnesandnoble.com

Where some deny themselves snacks, business opportunities or even a normal social life to play in the NBA, Amaechi denied himself so much more.

A nerdy kid encouraged to take up basketball in his late teens, Amaechi worked hard to go from Manchester to the NBA via high school in Ohio and a couple of colleges (Vanderbilt and Penn State). First discovering his true sexual orientation at Penn State, he kept it a secret for nearly a decade before coming out to a counsellor from his alma mater while struggling to live with crippling loneliness playing in Greece.

His book isn't a tale of victories, stats or achievements. He was good player in certain situations, but not a star; his book is a tale of a man who enjoyed basketball, but found it a means to an end. He seems more settled and comfortable now, excised from a me-first environment and running his business, Animus Consulting.

There's a certain amount of egotism - but surely Amaechi has more to be proud of than the average basketball star. His most telling statistical indicator is not a matter of average, but of luck - he scored the first basket of the year 2000. While at college, he was active in the Big Brothers, Big Sisters program and basically adopted a bunch of kids coming from unfortunate backgrounds. He did likewise in Orlando - leading, along with a bunch of enjoyable teammates, to his infamous rejection of the Lakers' millions.

Basketball autobiographies are often a glimpse into the psyche of the athlete, no matter how flat-batted they attempt to be. For example, Larry Bird's Drive is without question the most boring autobiography I've ever read - but this indicates much of the man. He is boringly obsessed with basketball. Bird the player was admirable - Bird the man, not so much. Drive, like Bird on anything other than hoops, never says anything worth reading. Amaechi is the polar opposite - basketball provides a background to which he nods occasionally, but his life seems so much broader.

You never get away from Amaechi's sensitive - and frequently pretentious - nature. But to deny either would bear false witness of the man. Any pretentiousness isn't overpowering - just his manner. But certainly, you can see how he wasn't universally liked (especially by Utah Jazz coach Jerry Sloan) simply because he refused to adhere to the overwhelming jock mentality of regular basketball stars. Where others pay lip service to the importance of basketball, Amaechi does not.

Man in the Middle is an easy read. It's rewarding, as well. Like many sports stars, his perspective has become his reality - events large for him sometimes not seen as such by others - but his perspective is panoramic, rather than focused intently on basketball. In fact, Man in the Middle is one of the first books in a long while that I've made time to read. Footballs.

Dallas vs Miami - the NBA Finals rematch noone predicted (or wanted)

When Miami signed Chris Bosh and LeBron James in July last year, not only sports fans but the world sat up and took notice. The best player in the league changed teams of his own volition and took deserved heat (oww ... unintentional pun) for leaving his hometown club for beaches and booty. And rings.

When the Heat filled out their roster with a few role players - Mike Miller and Udonis Haslem - and a series of stiff big guys like Zydrunas Ilgauskas, Juwan Howard, Jamaal Magloire, Erick Dampier and Joel Anthony, they were the popular tip to make the NBA finals even though their squad wasn't originally built for this year. Their start was slow - what would you expect with three new major cogs? - but as the 2010-11 NBA regular season rounded to a close, the Heat had gathered speed to the point where they dominated East playoff opponents Philadelphia, Boston and Chicago.

Of Dallas, it seems only Jason Terry really believed the team was destined for the NBA finals. Their playoffs have been a symphony conducted by Dirk Nowitzki and with feature solos from Terry and mighty mite Jose Juan Barea. The squad, hard and veteran, have coped admirably with the loss of starting SF (and likely LeBron stopper) Caron "Tuff Juice" Butler. They ploughed through Portland, the Lakers and Oklahoma City on their way to the rematch.

Rematch, because the teams met in the 2006 Finals. Only four players remain from those squads - Nowitzki, Terry, Dwyane Wade and Haslem; but the hurt still encompasses the Mavericks organisation. Much of the backroom staff remains the same and it's an easy bet that Mark Cuban wants an NBA Championship so badly he can taste it. But it's not the popular rematch that league observers throught we were getting: before the playoffs started, most analysts predicted a Chicago/Los Angeles decider, harking back to the twentieth anniversary of their 1991 encounter, a series which launched "Michael Jordan ... oh ... spec-TACK-ular move", a rain of John Paxson threes and the last games in Magic's first Lakers stint.

Nobody wanted this finals match outside Florida and Texas because, quite simply, the Heat are the bad guys (see WWE Superstar Chris Bosh at 2:15 - so schlock it's funny) and Dallas, until the playoffs, were seen as the "same old" - a veteran squad with minimal personnel changes from an ultimately unsuccessful 2010 campaign. As rematches went, the ones people thought likely were Lakers/Bulls, Lakers/Celtics and perhaps even Bulls/Blazers. But not the Mavs and the Heat. That both clubs have managed to proceed to their current peak is testament that really, nothing beats experience - or all-timers playing out of their collective skins, as LeBron and Dirk have.

As much as the Heat are nigh-on unstoppable, the popular vote will swing to Dallas. For redemption (game six, 2006, the infamous game brought into question by disgraced referee Tim Donaghy), for popular star Nowitzki, who's dominated the Western Conference playoffs and cohort Jason Kidd who has toiled for seventeen years without a Championship. Finally, they'll be favoured just because they're not the Heat. The South Floridians became the league's arch-enemy so fast thanks to that gaudy opening ceremony and the kerfuffle surrounding "The Decision" that it would take another Kobe case to dethrone them. A ring would start the process, but only increase the target on their backs next year (if there is one).

Predictions: Going with the head rather than heart here - Dirk and JJ Barea dominate just enough offensively for designated Wade and LeBron stoppers to do the same (just enough) to get the Mavericks through in seven.

Thanks to Bill Simmons for spec-TACK-ular phrasing & Chicagonow.com for the photo.

Why Blake Griffin of the Los Angeles Clippers is so important

When he comes to Portland, go and see him. Atlanta, too. Hell, if he comes to Tootgarook, he’ll pack the house.

I’m waxing lyrical about Blake Griffin, the NBA’s standout rookie of 2010-2011. Astonishingly, he plays for the Los Angeles Clippers whose name has been the shorthand for crap in American sports for the entire length of their existence.

After spending all of his first year in the league injured, Griffin is making up for those lost minutes this season. He’s currently averaging 22.5 points, 12.8 rebounds and 3.4 assists per contest, about on par with the all-time greatest modern-era rookie seasons (by Michael Jordan and David Robinson). The last twenty-seven straight games he`s tallied double figures in both points and rebounds, while his 47 points against Indiana on Martin Luther King Day were the most by any player this year.

Not only do his skills get results, but those results come in the most incredible manner. Griffin’s game is predicated on his nonpareil athleticism and his first thoughts are to dunk on his opponent, whoever it is, time and again. Even the increasing numbers of hoop-o-philes who think the dunk is overrated love seeing Griffin cram it down on yet another big fella. This has led him to be the most searched basketballer on YouTube and his three dunks on the New York Knicks in December have become the stuff of legend. He’s got “Dunk of the Year” all sewn up, and probably the minor placings as well. Blake Griffin would throw it down on a T-Rex.

(Hint: watch the clip, it’s going to be important later on)

And he’s the most important player in the NBA right now.

This young man, who displays all the likeable aspects of Shawn Kemp’s early years (before the before the sulking-about-Jim-McIlvaine’s-contract era, well in advance of the dozen-ish paternity suit era and definitely pre the “Why is he wearing a fat suit”? years) and none of the sass that has come to characterise today’s NBA players could represent the most marketable force that David Stern has at his command for the next decade.

The NBA is in a tough place right now. The current Collective Bargaining Agreement finishes at the end of this season and Players Union and the Owners Collective seem too far apart in negotiations as to the division of the $4 billion revenues of the NBA is shared between players and owners. If they can’t agree on a new pay scale, it will result in a “lockout” where owners shut down the league until a compromise is reached. The players aren’t paid, the owners don’t get the crowd/concession dollars and it’s eminently possible the 2011-2012 NBA season just won’t happen.

When the NBA resumes –before or after the new season is called a wash – it’s going to need to market itself as new, exciting and most importantly of all, able to keep its own house in order. It’s only now the NHL has recovered from their 2004-05 lockout behind concepts like the Winter Classic, a new All-Star Game format and most importantly, marketable stars who can be divided along comic book lines into heroes and villains. For the heroes, Canada’s Own Sidney Crosby is the man every mother wants their daughter to marry; while the villains sport the Washington Capitals Russian sniper Alex Ovechkin, who looks like a Bond villain and loves to be the enemy. Younger guys like Steven Stamkos, Milan Lucic and John Tavares are the next generation in hockey’s goodies-versus-baddies evolution.

The NBA are going to promote heavily to reattract attention to a league, which while still in good health, hasn’t been able to cope with Michael Jordan’s 1998 departure from Chicago. Major market teams – with the exception of the Los Angeles Lakers – have slumped over the past decade: New York’s revitalisation this year is their first whimper of competitiveness in ten years, Chicago have had a few good teams but many years of heartache. Despite a recent revival, the same could be said for the Boston Celtics, Atlanta Hawks and Houston Rockets. The LA-based Clippers have been a laughing stock their entire existence.

One potential league-defining player after another has come into the game – first Shaq, then Kobe Bryant, Allen Iverson, Vince Carter, LeBron James, Kevin Durant and now Blake Griffin – and none of them have managed to excite and capture the imagination of fans and mug punters alike like MJ. Several have had major and public flaws which decrease their market potential: Kobe his much-publicised run in with the law in Colorado; Allen Iverson was perhaps too “ghetto” for White America; Vince Carter’s career highlight was this dunk in the 2000 Sydney Olympics – and hasn't been the same since, quitting on every pro team he's ever been on. LeBron James’ 2010 was the greatest heel turn in Pro Sports history as he ditched hometown Cleveland for the sun, women and decreased responsibility of Miami. Durant – still plies his trade in Oklahoma City, perhaps the league’s smallest market and is, like Griffin, a low-key guy so execs are faced with the unenviable task of selling a small-town, low-key Midwest guy to New Yorkers or Southern Californians.

With LeBron now joining the “baddies” of Miami, the NBA needs a star in a big market who the crowds can get behind and support; the type of guy where people tune into SportsCenter just to see what amazing stuff he’s done. LeBron was the league’s best hope to be that amazing, likeable fella but when he “took my talents to South Beach”, his heel turn was rivalled only by American Hero Hulk Hogan joining the nWo. Griffin is David Stern’s best hope to be the frontman for The Rebel Alliance against the dark tyranny of a LeBron/Wade/Bosh led Empire.

Why can he do such things? Going back to the video clip, did you see how he reacted after posterizing the Knicks’ Center Mozgov? He was fully aware of how incredible he’d just been, but celebrated only mildly with his teammates, then went and sank the free-throw he’d earned by giving Mozgov a groin to the face. No crazy spinning in circles, no screams. Contrastingly, Carter’s dunk over Weis led “Half Man, Half Amazing” to scream like a monkey on heat. There’s no comparison. People get behind Blake Griffin because he doesn’t strut – “strutting” and “Oklahoma” seem mutually exclusive, don’t they? He just wants to play basketball. And if he plays basketball, he gets to dunk on chumps.

Much like the guy whose aggressiveness he resembles (Kemp), he’s also a Hall-of-Fame type talent, only Griffin seems grounded enough to not let the fame, floozies and transfats go to his head – or arse, delete as appropriate. He could average 24/14 for twelve years and with his talents combined with those of SG Eric Gordon, there’s the chance he could win one of the toughest battles in sport and lead the Clippers – the Clippers! – into respectability. Should he stay healthy – touch wood – Blake Griffin, his dunks and his simple ordinariness is what the NBA can build around when the coming lockout ends. Not quite 22 years old, he can be the face of the league as the NBA battles to regain popularity in the crowded US sports market.