Karmic Retribution

The 2003 All Star Game was a freaking embarassment.

If you watched it, you fellated Michael Jordan. You are guilty by association. By watching it, I too fellated Michael Jordan. And I didn't enjoy it one bit.

The whole event was a prolonged Michael Jordan ass kiss. As it was to be Jordan's last ever All Star game, in His final season before His third and only retirement, we were treated to the sight of His balls being polished mercilessly by everyone in the game, around the game, and Mariah Carey. Everything Michael did throughout history - excluding the previous 18 months, of course - was to be glorified and indulged one more time to such a lavish and excessive degree that, if any of us had forgotten how scarily good and frighteningly popular He was, we would never do so again. They had documentaries, they had interviews, they had montages, they had songs, they had a dress represented two of his uniforms on....they had everything.

Unfortunately, there was a slight problem. Jordan wasn't voted in as a starter by the fans. And it's hard to be the most important player on the floor when five other people get there first.

Never mind, though. Into the confusion stepped Allen Iverson. Voted in as one of the starting guards ahead of Jordan, Iverson magnanimously volunteered to give up his starting spot for Jordan, so that He may start the game and take the first 40 shots or so. Tracy McGrady, one of the starting forwards, made an identical gesture a few days later, once again showing sympathy-enducing deferrence to an older man's inferior play. However, the other starting guard, Vince Carter, did not make the same offer, even when pressed to do so.

People turned on Vince Carter. Because he didn't feel the need to give up what was rightfully is, like the others had done before him, he was vitriolically defamed, cursed and besmirched, suddenly deemed "disrespectful" for not giving Jordan something that he didn't earn. (And no, he didn't earn it. Michael Jordan's career up until that point saw him justifiably earn immeasurable fame, fortune and respect aplenty - giving him this starting spot, that he hadn't justifiably earned, would not have changed this.) Not working in Vince's favour was the fact that he had missed most of the year up until that point with injury - in this respect, he too hadn't earn the starting spot. However, Carter had gotten it anyway, because the fans wanted him to have it. But now, they wanted him to give it back. It made no sense, and Vince became a victim, stuck in a position where he could do no right without doing wrong.

Eventually, he relented. A mere matter of minutes before the game, Vince yielded his starting spot to Jordan, whose initial public claims to have not wanted the spot anyway seemed to disappear as he took Vince up on the offer, the same one that he claimed to have previously turned down from Iverson and McGrady. I distinctly remember an interview with Carter just before the game started, in which a pissed-off Vince spoke some clichéd poppycock about how it was the right thing to do to respect the history of the game, and of the "greatest player, probably, to put a pair of basketball shoes on". (Note: quote comes from a time when Vince was still insistent on not giving up his spot.) Had Vince had black eyes, cuts, and a distinct hobble that befitted a kneecapping victim, I wouldn't have been surprised - he didn't look like a man who had made a heartfelt gesture. Yet, regardless of what duress he was under, he made it anyway.

Jordan then came out and shot a Morrison.



Cut to the present day. This year's votes on the All Star Starters are in, and Allen Iverson is one of the starting Eastern Conference guards alongside Dwyane Wade. Vince Carter was third in the fan vote, narrowly missing out on the second guard spot. (Luke Ridnour was fifth, proving once again that this system is still effing stupid.) However, despite his popularity barely waning, Iverson's skill level has started to drop, and he is no longer truly deserving of any award that claims him to be (implied or otherwise) the second best guard in his conference. On the season, Iverson averages only 17.9 points, 3.3 rebounds, 5.4 assist and 2.8 turnovers, finally declining like the 33 year old that he is. Several players behind him in the voting, Carter included, are better players than he is now. (Note: Luke Ridnour isn't one of them.) And while the concept of the fan vote is to see the most popular players, not necessarily the best (which incidentally is another damning slant on the whole idea of giving up the spot for Jordan in the first place; the fans clearly didn't want him to start), it shouldn't be.

I want Allen Iverson to give up his starting spot for the better player this year, and the more deserving player over Jordan six years ago, Vince Carter. I realise that it is hypocritical to condemn the idea that Carter was forced to give up his spot in the first place, and then later in the same blog post to infer that Iverson should give up his spot this year to make up for it. And for this, I am sorry. But sometimes, two wrongs do make a right.

(The fan vote system doesn't work, by the way. Yao Ming was an All Star starter way before he deserved to be, and Yi Jianlian and Bruce Bowen came dangerously close to being voted onto the team this year despite never coming close to All Star calibre talent. The NBA All Star game should be to showcase the NBA's best, something which this system does not necessarily do, and therefore it is crap and needs abolishing. But that rant is for another day.)

This isn't a knock on Allen Iverson, whose initial 2003 gesture seemed sincere and genuine, and who isn't to blame for the fans voting him in over other, better players. But the NBA owes Vince Carter something, and this would be a fine time to give him it. Iverson doesn't personally owe Carter anything, and as such he will have done nothing wrong if he starts the game as chosen. Like Vince before him, Iverson has no obligation to give up what is rightfully his, and it is rightfuly his, even if it shouldn't be. But the entire NBA World owes Vince Carter an apology, as well as an All Star start, and Allen Iverson can make this happen. As hypocritical as it may be for me to want to see someone else give up their spot, Vince Carter deserves some justice, no matter how much you dislike him.

Please do this, AI. We'll be brothers for life if you do. I'll never let anyone defoul you again. No one. No one will disrespect this thing of ours. La Cosa Nostra. Me and you. Ride or die.

Let's do this.

The London Monarchs

People of various levels of importance have asked me what I'd think about an NBA franchise in the hit and miss city of good ol' London town. It's something that's been rumoured since the inception of the swanky new "O2 Arena", and it's been mentioned again as a possibility here.

I've always crapped on the idea. I don't think it's feasible. Even though Seattle no longer exists, the travel is unfeasibly far to the games ont he west coast, and so the only way to create a manageable schedule would be to have a heavy - if not complete - East coast bias. This is then unfair to the rest of the teams in the NBA, and the playing field is no longer fair. And as we all know, the NBA is all about the playing field being fair. Additionally, I think it's a bit pointless - the NBA is the National Basketball Association of America, and, at a reach, Canada. If you start changing continents, what precedent does that set? It would be like the Beijing Olympians joining the NBA, except this would be important. It's just not a good idea, even with all the selfish benefits I'd get from it.

But now I've have second thoughts. And here are those second thoughts.

Please make it happen please make it happen please make it happen please make it happen please make it happen please make it happen please make it happen please make it happen please make it happen please make it happen please make it happen please make it happen please make it happen please make it happen please make it happen please make it happen please make it happen please make it happen please make it happen please make it happen please make it happen please make it happen please make it happen please make it happen please make it happen please make it happen please make it happen please make it happen please make it happen please make it happen please make it happen oh please dear Lord make it happen.

That is all. Oh man would this solve a lot of problems.

Darnell Swallow? I bet he does.

Repeatedly, I have commented about the television coverage that the NBA receives in this, the most fabulous of countries, my homeland, and the place I reside in while I write this: England. For those who thankfully missed previous rants, one game a week is screened on a Tuesday night on a free-to-air channel called Five, and that's all we get. It's not presented very well, either.

I have yet to offer glimpses into what I'm talking about for those who have never seen the coverage in question, partly due to my laziness in recording a video, and partly because a typical Mark Webster question transcribes roughly as "well see, this is the thing, isn't it, because you know, he's, err, he's, he's, err, err, y'know, he is THE MAN, and y'know, he's going to make them do things his way, y'know, just going about their business, aren't they? That's right", which isn't good blog material. But I've ranted anyway because it annoys me. And now I'm going to do it again.

What bothers me the most about the coverage - moreso than Webster's stammer, moreso than Andre Alleyne's less than insightful insights into the NBA, and moreso than the forced chemistry and bad laughter that permeates everything they say - is the channel's dedication to only promoting the sport towards a black market. Be it through crappy pre-game advertisements, or by only interviewing black people, Five somehow ensure that Mark Webster is your only dose of vanilla for the night.

That is, except for last night. Last night, they finally had a white guy. Sort of.



If this face looks familiar, it may be because you saw it before, in this blog post. This is the impossibly named Darnell Swallow, an Albino black guy and former drug dealer, who found his fame and fortune as a Big Brother contestant. Not, as you might have thought, as an expert NBA analyst. But apparently that's not important to whether you get a job promoting the NBA or not. Nope. Not in Britain. Not when Five are involved.

At some point, I will turn this constant complaining into a hopefully-read letter of complaint to the TV channel in question, in doing so hopefully sparking a chain of rebellious events that sees the current regime overthrown and a new militant republic taking charge, leading the people to a promised land of analysis, insight and telestrators. But for now I'll just piss and whinge in this blog.

(Congratulations to Darnell, by the way, who has somehow turned a shady past and congenital skin defect into a television career that sees him feature in sporting broadcasts that he's dangerously underqualified for. That takes some doing. Actually, wait, what am I saying? He's not underqualified at all. He's black and has an American accent. He must LOVE basketball.)


Also, on a completely unrelated note, last night I dreamt that Allen Iverson sent me a text message containing a joke about Hitler, and that former Sacramento Kings summer league participant Patrick Sanders berated me at knifepoint about some gossip I had written in this blog that told about how he once shared a bed with Milwaukee Bucks guard, Luke Ridnour (which, I should stress for legal reasons, is something that never happened. Or if it did, it's a coincidence.) I just wanted to tell someone this. It worried me.

I think I need some therapy.

Things We Should Totally Petition For, number 2

Seattle Supersonics, no more, the, are. Or something.

Now, they're Oklahoma City.

I don't really get why this is. It seems to have something to do with the arena being a bit crap, and apparently the taxpayers won't pay for a new one. I'm not interested enough to find out quite why the taxpayers are supposed to be paying for it in the first place (is this standard, and if so, why?), but needless to say, the American sports 'franchise' culture is the spawn of Satan, American culture in general is inferior, God save the Queen, I'm a communist, et cetera.

(By the way, I'm right on this. So right am I that I will not take the time to fully explain quite what I'm right about, because I feel it unnecessary. So read on, confused and slightly alienated reader.)

Anyway. As a part of the settlement severance that the franchise and the city made, the Supersonics name stays in Seattle. Therefore, the Oklahoma City franchise needs a new nickname. And apparently, the Oklahoman is down to choosing between the final four in their unofficial (I assume) contest - it's either going to be the Thunder, the Thunderbirds, the Outlaws, and the Barons.

Is it just me, or do they all suck? Can't we petition to stop the madness? Or at least think of something better?

I mean, I can't think of something better. I'm an idiot, and I'm immature. These two things form an unbreakable alliance, and the first idea that came into my head was the 'Showertraps', proof enough that I haven't the cognitive capacity nor testitcular verticality to really be put in charge here.

That said, if we all pitched in, couldn't we find something that didn't suck? What is Oklahoma City famous for? Couldn't we find something relative to that? (Note: if you say "The Oklahoma City Bombers", you'll go to hell.) Can we at least make a better fist of it than the last time a franchise had to be nicknamed, and we got stuck with the Bobcats?

(Or, failing that, let's push for the Showertraps.)

Things We Should Totally Petition For, number 1

The Sacramento Kings are cultivating an annual tradition of frittering away their MLE. Since John Salmons, it's all gone Pete Tong. After last year using it to sign Mikki Moore for what will probably only be for two years - a move which will keep them entirely uncompetitive for that time - they've one-upped themsleves by throwing a full 5 year deal to last year's point guard starter, Beno Udrih. Last year was Beno's fourth in the NBA, and unlike the first three that he spent with the San Antonio Spurs, he didn't suck in it. So that helps to justify matters, ever so slightly.

(Readers note: If you can't see why it isn't necessarily a good idea to be committing 5 years of big salary to a guy who has only played one good year in his career, a good year that coincidentally happened to be the year that the money was about to dry up, then you weren't watching the Darius Miles experience particularly intently. But then again, maybe Beno really did genuinely break out, as he sure as hell looked a lot better last year. Then again, now that he's earning $33 million, he'll have to.)

Hopefully, though, this isn't the end of the Kings point guard search. After drafting Sean Singletary in the second round, the Kings now have two actual point guards, even if they aren't very good. They can also pretend, sort of, that wing players Salmons, Francisco Garcia and Q-Doub are able to play point guard in an emergency.

But I think we would all rather see them bring back Jason Williams. Wouldn't you?

The Adelman era Kings of the early part of this decade are gone. Those awesome teams, full of depth, running, passing and choking, are no more. Vlade Divac is long gone. Doug Christie is short gone. So is Chris Webber. Mike Bibby now plays for Atlanta, and doesn't do so very well. Bobby Jackson keeps the Rockets bench warm, Keon Clark has a new favourite kind of court, and Peja Stojakovic is on the Hornets, being paid way, way, way too much. The only players to still be any good are Brad Miller - who is also the only remaining Kings player - and Hedo Turkoglu, who just surprised the hell out of us all by winning the MIP award.

Signing White Chocolate isn't going to bring back the glory days, partly because everyone else has left, and partly because Jason Williams isn't very good any more. And yet...you know what? Maybe there's a second wind in there somewhere. Hobbled as he appeared to be in Miami, Williams also looked somewhat bored and misused, being primarily used as a defender and spot-up shooter, two things he was never much good at. The knees also don't look good, and Williams is also about to turn 33. But even if they lose the ability to do much with it, it's very far-fetched for a player to just entirely lose their understanding of passing angles, and despite Williams' steady career-long metamorphosis into a controlled, sensible point guard, he could still push the ball if he had people to run with him. (Note: that last point is entirely speculative.)

The Kings can offer this. Kevin Martin can run. Salmons can run. Mikki Moore can really run. Udrih doesn't milk shot clocks too much. Garcia did a surprisingly successful Stojakovic impression last year. Patrick Ewing Jr thrives when running, so I'm told. Same with Jason Thompson, apparently. Brad Miller doesn't move too good, but his quality passing skills can help out. Shareef Abdur-Rahim and Kenny Thomas will be about as much use as a chocolate teapot, but then, aren't they anyway?

Let's make it happen. They have a Bi Annual Exception - use it on Jason Williams. The Kings are pencilled in for another season of mediocrity, looking likely to win about 35 games once again. They probably won't make the playoffs, and if they do, they won't get anywhere. They're also too good to accidentally lose, and it would take a decimation of their rotation to make them try and do it on purpose.

So why not have a little fun with it?