Summer league round-up: Phoenix Suns

View the Suns summer league roster.

- Kaspars Berzins: Kaspars is a tall Latvian, but he's not Andris Biedrins. He's a fine outside shooter for a 7 footer, but he's not Dirk Nowitzki. And he's a good athlete, but he's not Chris Andersen. Mainly, he's a tall jumpshooter who hates contact and doesn't play much defense. In the fine tradition of teams drafting tall foreigners in the second round despite their unsuitability for the physical NBA game, being 7'3 would probably have gotten Berzins drafted. But a mere 7 foot? Pah. Begone.

- Josh Carter: Carter is a decently sized wingman out of Texas A&M, who is primarily a jumpshooter. He's a good jumpshooter at that. But he's not a really good jumpshooter. And that's why he wasn't drafted. (Even then, being a really good jumpshooter is not a guarantee you'll be drafted. Anthony Morrow wasn't, after all. But it worked out all right for him in the end. If Carter gets his jumpshot to that standard, he'll have a chance.)

- Earl Clark: I saw a lot of Louisville last year, because they played in a lot of games, because they were good. And Earl Clark is a large part of why that was. He should have been taken ahead of Terrence Williams, given that he's younger, bigger, and won't struggle to score as much. But he will struggle a bit; the jumpshot's not good and nor is the free throw stroke, he's not much use off the ball at the moment, and he barely posts up. Still, a lot of this was true of Boris Diaw once, and he turned out all right. I'll push this comparison for a while yet.

- Geary Claxton: Claxton is one of those rare beasts, a 6'5 man with forward skills in a guard's body. He's versatile, has a mere inkling of a jumpshot, rebounds well and defenders better, but can't hit a foul shot to save his life (or a basketball game, depending on which comes first). Claxton put up four big seasons at Penn State, but tore his ACL before the draft. Last year he spent a couple of months with the Erie BayHawks, yet averaged only 3 and 3 in limited minutes before being released. I'm guessing his knee wasn't fully rehabbed yet. And I'm guessing because I'm too lazy to look.

- Lee Cummard: Giggidy. Cummard just spent 4 years at BYU, and before that spent a year serving a mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Nashville. Groovy. He's an unathletic wing man with a fine shot and plenty of offensive skill, but every athletic disadvantage under the sun, particularly with regards to his skin pigment. And spending a year on that mission won't have helped his upside.

- Zabian Dowdell: Dowdell averaged 19.5 points, 3.9 rebounds, 2.7 assists and 2.2 steals in Italy last year, numbers pretty much identical to his senior year at Virginia Tech. Unfortunately, they were in the LegaDue, which makes them a bit less impressive.

- Micah Downs: Downs is tall, thin, athletic, a good shooter and better dunker. He's also well travelled, having gone to seven high schools in three states and transferring from Kansas to Gonzaga after one year. He left Kansas because he didn't get on with the coach, he left some of the high schools for the same reason, and for not getting on with the players. He also used to run his own Micah Downs-orientated offense, and refused to join weight programs. Supposedly he's figured it all out now, but it's come a bit too late for him to get drafted.

- Goran Dragic: Dragic was really, really REALLY bad for the first half of last season, before his jumpshot turned up for the last three months and saved him. Should we blame all this on Terry Porter? Yeah, screw it, why not. Goran, you get a mulligan.

- Taylor Griffin: What's Taylor Griffin's skillset like? Not great - a sub-par jumpshot, no significant interior offense, aggressive and physical defender but undersized for the NBA, and a bad rebounder. What's his upside like? With so few skills and an unassailable height disadvantage, not much. What's his hairline like? Better than Blake's. Why was he drafted? Not sure. Will it matter? Probably not.

- Jiri Hubalek: Former Iowa State big man Hubalek was with the Suns summer league team last year, too, and it was reported that he was going to get a training camp contract. He didn't get one in the end, but it didn't hold him back; he went to Italy instead, and signed with Lottomatica Roma, averaging 8.3 points and 5.0 rebounds for a very good team. He put up much the same for the Suns in summer league, too. Hubalek is probably too slow for the NBA game, but he's not talentless.

- Takuya Kawamura: Kawamura was a late and ultimately unnecessary addition to the Suns roster, who led the Japanese JBL in scoring last year. The JBL is one of two Japanese leagues that are kind of at war with each other, the other being the brilliantly named BJ League. Haven't figured out how that unalliance works yet. Either way, Kawamura played in one game for the Suns, did nothing, and is now back in Japan for another year, perhaps forever. Nice knowing you.

- Robin Lopez: Robin Lopez was bloody awful last year. Really quite bloody awful. As his brother Brook went on to be one of the 10 best centres in the game in only his rookie season, Robin was so bad that the Suns had to bring in Stromile Swift. But I still believe. And it's hard not to believe in a man that's tapping Michelle Wie. Surely he can achieve anything now. Imagine the genes those two could put together.

- Carlos Powell: Powell puts up huge, huge numbers wherever he goes, basically because he never lets go of the ball. Australia, Portugal, Ukraine, anywhere; the numbers are big. Perhaps his most notable achievement was leading the D-League in scoring in the 2007/08 season (along with a far from shabby 6.4 rpg and 4.8 apg) that came immediately after a training camp contract from the Golden State Warriors. His career went a bit weird last season, though, as Powell spent the year in South Korea for some bizarre reason. He averaged typical Carlos Powell numbers (56 games, 32 mpg, 25.6 ppg, 6.6 rpg, 4.2 apg), but when you're on the cusp of cracking the NBA, why the extremely bloody hell do you go to Korea?

- Chris Rodgers: Rogers left Arizona in 2006 in not very good standing. Since then, he spent the 2006/07 season in the D-League, the 2007/08 season in Belgium, and last season in the holy trinity of Bosnia, Finland and Hungary. Now THAT'S a career move. Take note, Carlos Powell. Rodgers' Arizona connections seem to be his sole reason for visiting the Suns team, because his resume isn't strong. But it is kind of funny. And so is this.

- Alando Tucker: Fun if slightly pathetic fact - on a plane flight a few months ago, I was sitting on my own, bored out of my freaking mind. I hadn't brought a book due to an unfortunate hand luggage situation, and it was a dirty cheap flight so there was no on-board entertainment to keep me sane. I wouldn't even have done any of the air hostesses, that's how cheap this flight was. Needless to say, I was struggling for things to do. After spending a good twenty minutes in the toilet, struggling valiantly to make the tap work before eventually complaining to a crew member that it was broken (apparently it wasn't), I sat back in my seat and tried to sleep. But I was surrounded by too many kids, and no shuteye was forthcoming. So to pass the time, I decided to try and recite every person on an NBA roster at that time, for no reason other than to stay sane. (Also, the chicks love that sort of thing. Love it.) A few minutes later I opened my eyes, list completed, and proceeded to double check it. And Alando Tucker was one of the two people I forgot. Sorry, Alando.

The other person that I forgot was Rashard Lewis, of all people. Not sure how that happened. Chris Mihm? Got him. Othello Hunter? No problem. Jeremy Richardson? A doddle. But Rashard Lewis, the most novelty oversized contract in the world today, somehow slipped my mind. Must have had deep vein thrombosis or something.

Remember Milk

I hated the appointment of Steve Kerr as the Phoenix Suns General Manager. Hated it. I freaking loved Steve Kerr as a player even if I did miss his best years, but I didn't like his writing much, thought he was a poor announcer, and he ruined my entire NBA Live 2006 experience with his insistence that Kirk Hinrich was in some way like Steve Nash. (They're both white and keep their dribble alive when circling the baseline! IDENTICAL!!!) Why would a man whose take on the NBA was limited to the games he was commentating on suddenly be qualified to run an NBA franchise, short as he seemed on experience, the CBA know-how, and the depth of knowledge base that was surely required for such a position? How much can you learn about the prognosis of thousands of potential NBA basketball players worldwide when sitting alongside Marv Albert? I hated the entire idea.

Similarly, I hated the Shaquille O'Neal trade when it happened. Hated it hated it hated it. The Phoenix Suns' style of play under Mike D'Antoni wasn't really getting anywhere, but was the answer really to trade for a player who commits your team to a life of halfcourt play, yet who isn't effective enough any more to build an offense around? And why would a team that had recently gifted away Rajon Rondo and Rudy Fernandez for immediate financial savings now be so willing to take on the huge contract of a declining player, commiting them for the foreseeable future to the salary tax that they had been so desperately trying to avoid? It was all the eggs in one basket, and the basket wasn't worth it.

However, as I am wont to do, I have since backtracked on both opinions. Acquiring Shaq has not affected the Suns's ability to acquire talent, as I feared it might. No longer are they selling first round picks, and they have made good free agency pickups, such as Matt Barnes and Grant Hill, even though they seem to be getting highly favourable discounts to do so. Despite the Jason Richardson trade seeing the Suns take on slightly less money than they gave out, and their dogged insistence on running with the NBA's bare minimum number of players at all times, the Suns haven't made drastic roster changes just to get under the luxury tax, like other teams have. They have found their payroll limit (just above the tax threshold) and kept it there. Phoenix may have about $4 million of their MLE unspent, but at least they aren't foolishly dumping Leandro Barbosa just to save a few million. In purely relative terms, this is progress.

To this end, Kerr has made some decent roster moves. Signing Hill for the Bi Annual Exception and Barnes for the minimum salary are absolute steals at their price, and Kerr did well to pick up the strangely overlooked Louis Amundson (who's always been able to do exactly what he's doing now, yet who Sacramento and Philadelphia let slip through their fingers). Kerr was also smart enough to insist upon Jared Dudley, a decent young role player who doesn't understand beards, in the Richardson trade with Charlotte. It bears repeating that the trade worked financially even with Sean Singletary in and Jared Dudley out of it, a variant which would have seen the Suns save a significant chunk of money in the process, an added bonus for a franchise always looking to save money. Yet Dudley was included anyway, seemingly at Kerr's insistence, and the trade as a whole saw one of the league's weakest starting shooting guards upgraded dramatically for little more of a cost than an expensive, replacable backup (Boris Diaw). Kerr also made what I still believe a solid draft pick with Robin Lopez at number 15, who has been some kind of shit thus far, but whom I still blindly feel will turn out all right. (Stick with Lopez, Suns fans. He can play. He just sort of.....hasn't.) Admittedly, I have absolutely no bloody idea quite what the Suns see in Goran Dragic, whose only redeemable skill so far seems to be his rebounding, something that isn't exactly vital from your point guard. But even that might pay off in time. You never know. Dragic won't shoot 29% and foul this much forever. You just have to stay ignorantly confident in the face of his special-kind-of-bad performances so far.

This doesn't mean, though, that the moves have worked. They haven't. After being roundly shat on by Boston last night, Phoenix sit with a 23-16 record, and in that same place that they had so wanted to avoid - good enough to be good, but not good enough to be good enough.

Futher still, the Suns' future prospects are not good. The younger players of Lopez, Amundson, Dudley and Alando Tucker are all decent, but there's not a starter amongst them, and there may never be. Phoenix's financial situation still shows no hope of providing flexibility any time soon, yet the team's competitive nature means they'll never get a high first round pick. Most disturbingly of all, their supposed young superstar, 26 year old Amare Stoudemire, seems to be regressing, unwilling or unable to overcome his problems with defense, rebounding, fouls or petulance. We're seven years in now, and despite all the physical tools, Amare has never learnt - or never tried - to be the defender that he could be. Without this, the Suns are treading water.

Perhaps trading Amare is the answer. Getting a highly talented defensive player for the power forward position (someone in the role of Emeka Okafor) completely redefines the Suns interior defense, their biggest weakness, and even though it leaves the team with a starting frontcourt featuring two players with absolutely no offense to respect outside of the lane (thereby making it even harder than it's already become for Steve Nash to get to the rim), the Suns have the makings of a potentially good defensive system. But maybe the scapegoat shoudn't be placed on the shoulders of one of the league's best offensive big men, or onto the General Manager who put together one of the stronger 8 man rotations in the league today. Perhaps it should go on the man who can't get much out of them.

The current Suns are a slower and less efficient version of their former selves, on both ends. The 2008 Phoenix Suns were 2nd in the league in offensive efficiency and 16th in defensive efficiency, transformed now into a team with the 4th best offense and the 26th best defense. And it's not all due to the loss of Raja Bell. Terry Porter, a supposedly defensive minded coach, can't seem to coach defense.

As Brent Barry once said, you can't make chicken salad out of chicken shit. Two of the best defensive teams in the league - Cleveland and Boston - boast former Defensive Player Of The Years in Ben Wallace and Kevin Garnett, respectively. The two also host between them a variety of other decent defensive players, such as Anderson Varejao, Kendrick Perkins, LeBron James and Rajon Rondo, all of whom combine to create a system that can both mask and enhance the defensive (li-)abilities of some of their team mates.

Phoenix don't have this. They don't have any of it, really. Steve Nash takes a ton of charges, but can't keep anyone in front of him. Jason Richardson often has a distinct strength advantage, but he struggles with the quicker guards. Grant Hill can't run backwards as well as he used to. Amare Stoudemire doesn't try as hard on that end of the floor, and watches the ball almost as much as he does on offense. Shaquille O'Neal is still a reasonably feared interior defensive player, but only if he doesn't have to move. You can't make much out of these ingredients. These aren't the makings of a decent defensive unit. There's no lockdown perimeter defender, no anchor in the middle, or enough disruption of the passing lanes. There's not even enough rebounding, as the Suns have only the league's 12th best rebounding differential. Distinctly average. As was their defense.

Maybe Barry is right. The Suns are in no way chicken shit, but they haven't the personel with either the players or the coaches to put together the defensive unit needed to get the team over the hump, one that they still can't see the top of. Trading for Shaquille O'Neal helped, as have many of the recent pickups, but it hasn't been enough. And what certainly hasn't helped the defense is changing coaches.

Perhaps they should change up the personel again. Perhaps the Nash era is reaching a logical conclusion. Perhaps trading Amare really is the answer. Perhaps they could put together a package for Andrei Kirilenko, or someone of that nature, giving them someone who can vastly improve their defense, while also not preventing a return to their running game. Perhaps they could replace Terry Porter, or all of the coaching staff, and find a team of coaches committed yet able to create a defensive scheme that will compliment and support the roster's natural offensive talent. Perhaps they'll just stop playing Goran Tragic.

In the mean time, they could start pushing the ball again and play to their strengths.

Incest Is Best (Also titled: Sham's Draft Novel, Pt 1)

I have a confession to make. I have an addiction.

It took an intervention of sorts, but I am willing to admit it: I am addicted to the NBA. Even when it's boring. Even when it's corrupt. Even when my team sucks. Even though I'm in the wrong continent. Even when doing so is to the direct detriment of my sleep pattern and general health. I am addicted to suckling every molecule of informative fecal matter from the grand protuding arse of NBA factoids, garnering even the most boring information about these people that I'll never meet, who just so happen to play a sport that I love, despite my never having played a game of it. This isn't something I'm proud of. I'd definitely rather have a sex addiction, or a relatively sedate heroin problem. But, so be it.

Nothing is more indicative of the grip of my addiction than the annual NBA Draft. I make no secret of the fact that I don't know anything about the potential draftees. I do not get to watch NCAA games, and so I will not pretend to know about them, and formulate broad sweeping generalisations of these players based off of the opinions of others. No, that would just be silly. Instead, I prefer to typecast people based off of my first impressions, a fleeting couple of minutes to judge the worth of the person presented to us. Who doesn't love doing this? This is why, as a species, we go speed dating. We are all prone to prejudice based on appearance. Let's just learn to accept it and make sure that we take it out on sportsmen - the ultimate punching bag, serving only as an outsource for our prejudice, immune from retribution.

This year, I went for a slightly different approach. Instead of spending the evening before the draft starts smearing my body in the veritable bounty of rumours made public, Scrooge-McDucking it up amongst their unmeasurable riches, I decided to stay off of the internet until the draft started so that there'd be an element of suspense for me in an otherwise increasingly predictable experience. (The other reason for this is that I fell asleep.)

Added drama hit the ShamBulls household on this particular draft night, as an as-yet-undiagnosed internet problem has left us with an annoyingly slow DSL connection, which meant that I wouldn't be able to watch the draft online, or even listen to it. (You wouldn't believe the number of Americans who told me to "go to a bar or something", as their remedy for this crisis. Oh you silly, silly fools. If it were possible to watch the draft on a TV set, don't you think I'd start there?) So, to watch the draft, and to be able to write the following anti-climactic piece, desperate measures were called for.

As a result, I drove to my friend's house at 1am, let myself in, and watched the draft in her front room for 5 hours as she slept upstairs. Now THAT'S how you feed an addiction.

(I then sold her TV for crack.)

I finally got a stream working about 90 seconds before the Bulls made the first pick of the night, and it is from there that My Totally Boring Draft Diary begins. (Written in realtime, even though it isn't. Not sure why.)

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- The first shot I see is one of the Bulls "War Room", in which General Manager John Paxson can be seen sitting down, biting his nails, surrounded by a lot of anonymous men in anonymous suits. I have only four questions:

a) Why do we have to do this War Room tradition every year?
b) Why are we pretending that some intense last minute decision making is going on in there, when it's clearly a bunch of men in suits watching themselves on the telly, their minds made up hours ago?
c) Why do we only get the War Room for the team picking first, when clearly that's the ONE room in which nothing frantic is going to be happening?
d) What the hell is wrong with Vinny Del Negro's ears?



- Also, where is Steven A. Smith? He seems to have been bumped from the analysts panel, and regardless of how much or how little you think of Mark Jackson, you surely know that this Smith's removal is a good thing. Less of a good thing are Stu Scott's glasses, recently borrowed from Tampa Bay Rays manager Joe Maddon on what we can only assume was a lost bet. Which is pretty much how Maddon got them from Joe 90 in the first place.



- Pick 1: A few seconds after leaving the war room shot, Commissioner David Stern walks up to the podium - to more cheers than he got at the NBA Finals trophy presentation - and, sure enough, he announces that the Bulls take Derrick Rose first overall in a move that shocks literally no one. Instantly we are thrown back to the green room, just in case the cameras accidentally caught something interesting. They didn't. The Bulls men in suits awkwardly clap themselves, and a single handshake is offered up by whoever sat nearest the camera. Yep, that green room camera was TOTALLY worth it. Let's do it again next year.

- Derrick Rose's interview offers up four interesting discoveries.

a: Steven A. Smith is seemingly doing the interviews this year. So we weren't finally free from him after all.

b: Rose's nickname is "Pooh", which is odd, but somewhat synonymous with roses at least.

c: He talks like a complete and total weirdo: slowly, deeply, extremely simple and formulaic diction, and not one single solitary word worth remembering.

d: His mum has exactly the same voice as him.

This was enough to make me apprehensive about the pick. Name the last player who was completely impersonable to lead his team to a championship. Seriously. It's quite hard, isn't it? Garnett, Shaq, Rasheed Wallace, Jordan.....I guess you have to go back as far as Olajuwon to find the most recent example, and he wasn't THAT bad. And Hakeem has the ol' English-as-a-second-language fallback that Rose will never have. This bugs me. (Tim Duncan doesn't count, by the way, because he's brilliant in ways that Derrick Rose never will be, and also because counting him invalidates my already-tenuous point.)

This brings us neatly into pick number two.....

- Pick 2 .....where the highly personable Michael Beasley is taken by Miami, who idly threatened not to pick him for a few weeks. If you bought into any of that bobbins, shame on you. Really. A plague on both your houses. It was the least convincing acting job since Val Kilmer in Top Secret, and if you thought there was any legitimate chance of them picking anyone other than the instant 20ppg scoring forward, then you really need to re-think how much you trust people.

Jay Bilas chimes in, touting Beasley's "second jump ability" as soon as he opens his mouth, which seems like a weird place to begin praising the most surefire star in this draft. (Well, so I've heard.) Beasley bounds up confidently to the stage, but then lets us all down by not signing David Stern's head. Shame.

Doris Burke - who is to spend the whole evening conducting green room interviews, flexing her biceps, and looking genuinely concerned and/or relieved at all times - interviews Beasley's mother, Fa-TEE-ma Smith. Doris congratulate Fa-TEE-ma on raising five kids by herself - the obvious connotations of this aside - but neglects to mention how stupid the infection in her first name is. (Also note: this instance marks the first time tonight in which the mother being interviewed has a different surname to the player just drafted. It's also not the last.)

- Pick 3 sees the Minnesota Timberwolves - who didn't have to try hard to suck this year - pick O.J. Mayo, who treats us to the first three piece suit of the night, as well as Sam Mitchell's glasses. This news breaks Jay Bilas's heart, as his "Best Available" list sees Brook Lopez confidently listed as the third best player in this draft. As Jeff Van Gundy comforts Bilas off-camera (maybe), Stu Scott asks the panel about the Jermaine O'Neal trade.

Woah, hang on: WHAT Jermaine O'Neal trade? Can someone please elaborate? Some of us were asleep and missed this. Don't assume that we know. Help me!!!

(No one elaborates. I am left floundering.)

There follows a brief O.J. Mayo interview, in which he awkwardly stares directly at the camera while describing how he will do whatever it takes to help the team win (a cliché that's currently appeared in all three draftee interviews), before we cut to a video conference with an extremely tired looking Pat Riley overdubbing a video clip of Michael Beasley's vertical leap test. Hasn't anybody told them? Beasley is 6'9! He's too small to be a power forward in the NBA! Even I know that, and I don't know anything! (Note: that bit about 6'9 being too short? That was satire.)

- Russell Westbrook is chosen by Seattle with Pick 4, in a move that draws audible stares from the panel, and a startled noise of bewilderment from the crowd. Jay Bilas confidently weighs in to fill the airtime void, exclaiming "who would have thought, this time last year, that Westbrook was a possible top 4 draft pick?". He probably could have changed "year" to "week".

Stephen A's interview with Westbrook lasts for precisely one question, before he is forced to throw it over to Doris Burke, who is subconsciously challenging Kevin Durant to an arm wrestle. The television executives believe that we, Joe Public, really want to hear Kevin Durant's views on his team's decision to draft Westbrook. And if Durant had something negative to say, they'd be right. Something like this, maybe;

"What? WHAT??? Russell Westbrook? Are you f***ing kidding me? Russell Westbrook? Who the f*** is Russell Westbrook? Here I am, stuck on my arse playing out of position, trying to win games single handedly as Chris bloody Wilcox is the second option right now......and you get me Russell f***ing Westbrook? RUSSELL WESTBROOK???!?!?? Don't just move the franchise; fold the f****r."

But, unfortunately, this didn't happen. Durant smiled, said words so meaningless that I can't even remember them, and the world continued to spin. While I love the drama of the draft, purely for the way that the entire NBA landscape can change within 4 hours, it could definitely be better television. Maybe there could be some monster truck racing between picks.

- Pick 5: Kevin Love goes to Memphis. I guarantee you, GUARANTEE YOU, that I thought of the Gay/Love jokes before you did. That shit was instantaneous, I swear to God. As was the subsequent Hakim Warrick for Luther Head trade idea. Stern hadn't even got the word "Love" out and I was concocting "Love Gay Head" blog posts. Good times. Between Kevin Love and Lopez twins, we have the outlines of a fine All-Porn Star Rookie Team here.

The subsequent Kevin Love analysis has warning flags all over it. Bilas begins the ultimate he's-not-that-good cliché round-up ("he knows how to play the game, he has a great feel for the game, and he's strong"), and as footage, ESPN choose to show Love's ability to hit 80 foot three pointers, before flashing up the polarizing caption "Must Improve: Explosion Ability". Is that even possible? Or is "explosion ability" just a soubriquet for "skin pigment"? I'd be worried about this pick right now if I was a Grizzlies fan. Add it to the list of things to worry about down there.

Then, things improve. First, we learn that Kevin Love's uncle Mike is the lead singer of the Beach Boys (I looked up whether Mike's name was Mike Love, and it was, so that's good news), and then both Kevin and the rest of "The Love Family" are interviewed. Kevin shows himself to be eloquent, friendly, and not firmly adhered to the interview chair like most other draftees, while his father Stan Love nervously twirls what looks like an iPod during his turn, apparently threatened by Doris Burke's hulking beauty. Following this, Stu Scott tries to build up the drama, for the hometown Knicks are picking next, but he is undermined slightly by the camera cutting to a shot of a Knick fan yawning. This was a good montage.

- Pick 6: The Knicks surprise and thoroughly piss off their travelling faithful by picking Danilo Gallinari to a resounding chorus of boos, which Gallinari overlooks with good grace. Even the panel had to backpedal, having talked about the Knicks selecting every candidate other than Danilo before the pick was made. Fran Fraschilla interjects with the soothing declaration that Gallinari "will not be a superstar", which didn't help to assuage the rising angst of the gathered New Yorkers. (Seriously, at number 6, wouldn't you at least pick a guy with an outside chance of this happening? If only a faint one? Especially if you're the Knicks? And why another small forward when they can't shift two of the four that they already have? Still, it's good news for the current Jared Jeffries bet that I have got going, which I stand to win unless Jeffries averages 9.5 points a game. Basically I've won it already.)

Stu Scott tries to brighten proceedings, by announcing that Gallinari already has a personalised shoe, called the "Reebok Rooster", helpfully pointing out that "Galli" is Italian for rooster. Thus, if you didn't already know, Gallinari is forever after known as "The Italian Cock". Good times.

(EDIT - "Nari" is an Italian name, meaning "Happy". Thus, Danilo Gallinari is, literally, Cock Happy. I'm going to tell this joke over a million times in the coming days.)

SAS's interview with Gallinari focuses on little else but the booing Knicks fans, which seems unfair. (You could say that Steven A. Smith was trying to manhandle The Cock. In fact, I will say that.) Gallinari copes with it well, citing the fact that he will win them over when they see that he "plays hard", a cliché now invoked of 5 of the 6 interviews so far. I'd like to see more "I will give it only the merest token effort during my time here" interviews, just to mix it up a little.

- Eric Gordon is chosen by the L.A. Clippers as Pick 7, taking to the stage in a get-up that I originally wrote in my notebook as "sharp", before crossing it out in favour of "shit".



White jacket, black trousers, black and white stripey shirt with a plain white collar. How very.....something.

It is pointed out that 5 of the first 7 players chosen are college freshman, but at no point does anyone mention why. (Has this 19 year old age limit really changed anything?) There follows an Eric Gordon montage, featuring him shooting jumpshots from around his right ear, a commentary that describes him as a small two guard, plus a screenshot that cites "ball handling" as a weakness. So my first impressions of Eric Gordon are unflattering at best.

We leave this high octane moment to cut to someone called Wendy Nix interviewing new Knicks president Donnie Walsh (oh, I see what they did there!) who is wearing Pacers colours. Walsh, looking a lot like a Mafia capo, lets down this image when he speaks without an Italian American New York drawl. Still, he's in the right place for it now. Maybe he can develop one.

Jeff Van Gundy explains that the Knicks don't need point guard help because they have Stephon Marbury. Everybody is stunned into a submissive silence.

- Pick 8: Joe Alexander goes to Milwaukee. I don't know who he is, or what he's about, but I'm calling him "Diamond", because all people with the name Joe get that prefix. Similarly, all Petes are "Pistol", all Daves are "Dynamite" and all Marios are "Super". These things write themselves.

The compulsory montage offers the viewer the chance to see Joe Alexander's baby pictures, which must be something that he consented to, but for reasons that I cannot possibly fathom. Clips of his play show that Alexander is a keen proponent of The White Guy Run™, the ultimate warning sign for any draftee. (FYI, The White Guy Run™ is a run defined by absolutely no arm movement, even when running at full tilt.) Name two players who star in this league, even when burdened with The White Guy Run™. You can't. Yao Ming is one, but the second.......he just doesn't exist.

Alexander then changes the very fabric of society in his interview, by saying that he will "work hard", as opposed to the usual "play hard". SAS responds, saying "you know the trade that the Bucks made today", and before I have time to excitedly mouth "NO!".....my online streams cuts out. Terrific. So I'm still none the wiser. Note to self - don't miss the build-up next year.

- Pick 9: After a quick scramble, the feed comes back barely in time to see Jay Bilas plugging Brook Lopez once again, just for Charlotte to disappoint him by picking D.J. Augustin. The pick is greeted by a consesus congratulations from everyone except Jay, who openly wonders why Charlotte wouldn't go big, but instead went for the 5'11 guy. Jeff Van Gundy begins his analysis with the sentence "the big thing is, what are they going to do with Gerald Wallace," thereby making it painfully obvious that he knows absolutely nothing about D.J. Augustin. By the way, I always get a jolly when I find out that I'm taller than an NBA player, and I don't know why.

The fact that Richard Jefferson was traded earlier today is idly mentioned in the build-up to the Nets picking 10th. Would someone please put me out of my bloody misery and tell me about all these trades, please? Was Jefferson traded to Jermaine O'Neal or something? What have the Bucks got to do with this? Don't ever assume the public are clever. We're not. And we have afternoon naps sometimes.

- Pick 10: Brook Lopez goes. Jay Bilas lives.

Here's what I know about big men from Stanford - Mark Madsen is one. As are the Collins twins. I shouldn't hold their towering shitness agaisnt the Lopez brothers, but I will.

Jay Bilas's main selling point on Brook Lopez is how "tough" he is. One question - if you're far bigger than all of your peers, more athletic, and also "tough", why would you only average 8 rebounds a game?

A lot is also made of the fact this twin brother Robin Lopez will be drafted at some point tonight too, making them the third set of brothers currently in the NBA (but soon to be one of four - read on, captivated viewer!). This, when combined with the well defined fact that half of the NBA is in some way the other half's cousin, makes the NBA one great big family love-in. Who said that the sport had lost its appeal to the white American audience?

Brook and Robin Lopez both strike me as complete frat boys, by the way. This is not good. At least Robin tries to be funny, even if he fails.

Someone FINALLY throws up a caption showing the Bucks trade mentioned earlier: Milwaukee acquires Richard Jefferson for the corpse of Bobby Simmons and the Chinese anticlimax, Yi Jianlian. Wow. In the unlikely event that you hadn't noticed, that trade is staggeringly bad for New Jersey. You mean to tell me a 21-foot jumpshooter and a contract so bad that it's not even expiring is the best value that you can get for a 28 year old 22ppg scorer in the prime of his career? Really? You couldn't even get a future pick out of them? Not even a second? M'kay.

Oh wait, they hired Kiki Vandeweghe, didn't they? Never mind then. Makes some sense now.

- Pick 11 sees Jerry D. Bayless go to Indiana, in a move that baffles the announcers, who proclaim that Indiana doesn't need a point guard. Either they weren't watching last year, or Jermaine O'Neal was dealt for a point guard. Rather than wait it out like the Jefferson thing, I looked it up, and saw that O'Neal had been traded to Toronto for T.J. Ford, Rasho Nesterovic, Macy O'Baston, and the number 17 pick. Good trade for Indy, that. Too much from Toronto, but it might be all right. Scott helpfully points out that Jamaal Tinsley is now "for sale", the implication being that he wasn't before.

In his interview, Bayless says he'll play wherever he is needed. So that's nice. Bayless is apparently really good at golf. So that helps. He's also apparently not very good at passing, but really, which of these two skills do you need more in your point guard? It's clearly the golf.

- Pick 12: Jason Thompson is picked by Sacramento at number 12.

Now, when I say that I don't know anything about the draftees in any given year, I've usually at least HEARD of them. With Jason Thompson, I am stumped. I've never heard of him, nor his college (Rider), nor even his conference (the MAC or something). It would be immature of me to hold my ignorance against Thompson, but what else am I to do? This is a night for predjuce and first impressions, after all.

David Stern tells us that Thompson is "not here". So it follows either this wasn't a 'promise pick' by Sacramento, or Thompson declined the offer to turn up, as he didn't want several thousand people staring at him, mouthing "who the hell is that?". That seems reasonable, I guess.

A table is quickly fashioned by ESPN, showing us that the selection of Thompson ties the record for the lowest that the first senior in any draft has ever been drafted. His company on that table is made up of Melvin Ely, Rafael Araujo and Acie Law. A list with those three in it can't ever be good.

- Pick 13: Brandon Rush is selected by the Portland Trail Blazers, ostensibly to back up the backup to his namesake, Brandon Roy. So confusing is the names thing that Stephen A. Smith immediately asks Rush what it will be like to back up Brandon Rush, which I claim as vindication. This marks the second time tonight that a pair of brothers have joined the league, as Brandon's brother Kareem Rush is an Indiana Pacer for at least 5 more days.

At this moment, my feed cuts out again, freezing irrepairably on a screen that shows "Sacramento: Pick 12 (Jason Thompson). Fan Grade: F". Tough crowd.

(You know, there's only been one Euro drafted so far. Maybe that trend of picking completely unready Euros way too high is finally gone for good.)

- Pick 14: I missed pick 14, busy trying to find a new stream, when Golden State drafted somebody named Anthony Randolph. This marks the second straight year that they have drafted a 6'10, 200lb forward. But at least he has the same surname as his mum.

Dick Vitale makes his first appearance of the evening, in one of draft night's more annoying traditions. I have no problem with Dick Vitale - his name is Dick Vitale, after all, and no amount of deliberate mispronounciation of his surname will hide this fact. But....you know? Do people really have to encourage the "baby" thing? Let the baby have his bottle, but don't make the problem worse. We may as well get Scotty Nguyen in the booth if this is how it's going to be.

- Robin Lopez goes to Phoenix at Pick 15. That leads to this happening:



And that's unfortunate.

Also, let's get this out of the way now. Robin Lopez has big hair. OK? We get this. As a result, it is now obligatory to compare him to the other players with big hair, Anderson Varejao and Joakim Noah. So let's get it all out of the way early so that we need not bother with it again.

(By the way, his mum is called Deborah Ledford. I'm not keeping an official Mum's Surname count, but if you are, chalk this one up. Also, Ledford is a baaaaaad name for a basketball player.)

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Coming up soon: Part 2. I only broke it down into two parts because, as you can see - it's way, way too long. But I'm not sorry.


Part 2