Sports – Enough Rope

LBJ– the Cleveland one– and the Passage to Overexposure

There are many factors that make LeBron James one of the best — if not the best — NBA players of all time. He is a transcendent figure — one of those rare players in any sport that even a non-fan can identify as simply better than everyone else. (I’ve seen that happen when a non-sports-oriented friend or family member happens to watch a few minutes of a game LeBron is in on TV — “Hey, that one guy is WAY better than the rest.”)

That doesn’t mean I’m not tired of him. I tired of LeBron once we reached that tipping point where everything he says and does gets top billing. We’ve seen the same thing with other overexposed athletes. I remember ESPN actually running a spring training story — not a crawl, a story — in 2012 or so about how the Yankees would have to soldier on without Derek Jeter for a game because he had a cold. Or maybe his dog was sick. Anyway, it was Jeter, so it was news. Similarly, if it’s LeBron, it’s news.

And no matter how deep I plumb the depths of my sympathy, when it comes to basketball, I simply never, ever feel sorry for LeBron at all in any way whatsoever. He’s always whining about something, to begin with, so he never presents as sympathetic. (N.B. I’m just talking about basketball, not his role as an international celebrity.)

At this writing, we’re in the third or fourth iteration of his desire to remake his team and acquire new teammates. The latest shipment won’t fare any differently from the waves before them. That’s because LeBron demands players then subsequently usurps the role they supposedly were hired to fill. Maybe he’s bored, but he does the same thing every time– he sets them– and us– up. “I want a point guard” is almost guaranteed to be followed by LeBron playing more point guard to show he’s better than anyone else at that, too.

Anyway, maybe someday I’ll miss being tired of LeBron, but I doubt it. I don’t miss Jeter or Kobe or any other great player who became the story instead of part of the story.

What, exactly, do we so proudly hail?

I am a sports fan. I am also a very proud American. I attend dozens of high school, college, and professional sports events a year.

At many — perhaps most — of the sports events I attend, I hear a variation of this prior to the national anthem: “Ladies and gentlemen, please rise to honor our flag and the men and women of our armed forces….” [Again, some version of the sentiment, not always those words.]

As someone who served my country for over 30 years, I am offended by this notion. It is our country’s national anthem, not our military’s theme song.

Why isn’t this troubling to sportswriters, given how often they are accused of inserting liberal political opinion or rhetoric into sports coverage?

Heck, why isn’t it troubling to all of us, military and civilian alike? I don’t think anyone in our armed forces believes that the anthem is dedicated to them, yet somehow sports events have decided that military honor guards, military aviation flyovers, and other martial elements are required accessories to the traditional expressions of pride in our country.

Tapeworn

I don’t have patience for video links and almost always prefer to read something because I can read much faster than I can watch. I have come to realize, however, that I am a disappearing minority in that respect, even among my friends and family. They don’t read many or most of the many things I send or suggest to them, and I don’t watch many or most of the video links they send or suggest to me.

As much as it frustrates me, their approach is sustainable in daily life and, mine, perhaps, is not. Several of my preferred sports websites, for example, now automatically load video that I don’t want to watch. And they do it on almost every page I open. They have decided for me that video is my priority, even though I never declared such an allegiance, and even though it slows down everything else. Exasperated, I wrote one website to ask if I could set a preference to avoid video I had not summoned. I got a cheerful non-sequitur reply that, of course, I could stop any video that started to auto-play.

I am not “right” about my preference, but I confess that defaulting to video bothers me. I once read a fascinating science-oriented article in the New Yorker. It was very long, as they often are. I tried to get my kids to read it. Rolling his eyes, one of them called me over to his computer and said, “Dad, isn’t what you’re talking about the same as what’s in this video?” I watched the four- or five-minute video, and he was right. The video did an extremely good job of covering in five minutes what I spent well over half an hour reading.

While I still believe in the intrinsic value of reading, for many of us it has become complementary rather than prescriptive — perhaps in the same way that vinyl turntables have returned to supplement our reliance on digital music.

In search of good unqualified candidates

Much of the criticism of Donald Trump starts with or includes the notion that he’s not qualified to be president. He is, of course, qualified in the sense that he meets the constitutional requirements for the office, so the stated concern about his qualifications is really more about his unconventional approach to his candidacy and, ultimately, his office.

If traditional qualifications for office don’t matter, as Trump’s supporters — and, to be fair, the supporters of many candidates for national office before him — explicitly or implicitly believe, then Donald Trump is certainly not alone.

There are clearly many other “unqualified” Americans worth considering for the presidency– or for any elected office in the United States.

Who are they and how do we find them? I’d suggest three simple criteria:

First, they have to be public personalities or citizens on the cusp of becoming public personalities due to their prominence in something.

Second, they should be people who are not controversial in a political sense — in other words, not already associated with strong political sentiment that would repel a significant portion of the voting public.

Third, they should be persons that everyone agrees are — for the most part — respectable and respected.

My guess is that there are a lot of them out there.

An example is Chris Webber. He’s a former NBA star and current NBA game announcer, genuinely smart person, and — seemingly — all-around good guy. Much of his on-air commentary, while couched in the context of basketball, is easily extrapolated to other parts of life. Chris appears to be an intellectually curious, non-judgemental person who has built on these traits to become wise.

Here is just one of his quotes about basketball that would be a good guideline for the kind of unconventional political leader this quest presumes.

“Everything you knew, throw that out and get better.”

There are a lot more.

I’d vote for him.

Pay attention to the game in front of you– This means you, Jeff Van Gundy!

As we approach the playoffs, this missive is a heartfelt plea to NBA announcers to tell us more about the game we’re watching and much less about anything else.

It has become tiresome to watch an NBA game and hear the announcers talk about anything but the game they are purportedly there to broadcast. While I pick on Jeff Van Gundy in my caption, he is perhaps only the most visible and voluble of many transgressors in this respect.

I suspect I speak for others in declaring genuine frustration with the type of information NBA broadcasters are choosing to favor in their commentary. For example, it is increasingly common to have battalions of substitutions occur unremarked upon because Jeff and his ilk are talking about some other NBA story, or even non-NBA current events, rather than providing insight into the game we have dedicated our time to watch. While many sports fans correctly decry the usurping of sports airtime caused by the inevitable celebrity, human interest, and other stories the sideline coverage crews hustle to discover and present, it is far more insidious to the viewing experience to have the person whose very responsibility it is to describe the action in front of him (or, much more rarely, her) careen off on tangents that have little or nothing to do with the game being broadcast.

These guys — and Jeff Van Gundy, I mean you — go on and on about anything while we thirst for what they are quite specifically there to provide: knowledgeable, reasoned commentary on the game playing out right in front of them. The game being broadcast. The broadcast for which they are the soundtrack. Tell me about that rookie who just checked into the game, not about Joel Embiid’s or Ben Simmons’ absence from all games. And, while we completely understand and respect that you must praise any and all NBA coaches as masterful, humane geniuses, explain why the coach on the sidelines right down from you has chosen to play that rookie right now. Do your homework for the game you are calling. Under no circumstances should a viewer be able to correct your statistics off the top of his/her head, yet that happens with disturbing frequency as they challenge you through the screen, “It is NOT his first 3pg attempt of the game; he’s missed two in the past two minutes!” You should not authoritatively state that Player X has been very impressive or solid lately when just last night his careless turnover at the end of the previous game enabled the other team to win on a buzzer beater.

All we’re suggesting is that you pay as much attention to the game you are commenting on from your courtside seats as we do from our vantage points perhaps a continent or farther away.

You are really good at describing basketball. You know much more about basketball than we do. Please share your knowledge in a way that illuminates our understanding of the game we have chosen to watch. We have plenty of other sources for information or opinion on every other subject, but none for what we hoped to get from you during this game.

And, yeah, Jeff Van Gundy, this means you.

British Invasion- Soccer/Football- “Match”

More than a few explicitly British football (soccer) terms have perniciously crept into U.S. soccer commentary, despite the precedence of perfectly serviceable American alternatives.

Match: Term for “game” used in football/soccer context only to sound British. “Match” is, of course, a fine word with an honorable place in American sports. In addition to its traditional home describing a tennis or boxing contest, it is a useful synonym for “game” when sportswriters or commentators want to stretch a bit describing other sports. That said, “match” has no place as the default word describing soccer competition that involves the United States or Americans. That matchless word is “game.”

NB:

The British Invasion is when– unbidden and unneeded– explicitly British words and expressions infiltrate American public commentary and journalism. This is alarming because the resultant multiplier effect could cause an epidemic that infects ordinary Americans’ healthy vocabulary.

Although I strive for tolerance, for the purpose of this series of posts, my fundamental assumption is that American is better than, not just different from, British. This is– mainly, if not exclusively– because American is newer and made improvements to its dialect of origin. I do, however, confess to frequent unfair extrapolation from this arguably reasonable approach to almost wholesale– and borderline unfair– derision of British compared to American. I beg the reader’s forbearance for having fun with such a solemn topic. I’m just taking the mickey– or whatever it is Americans say.

British Invasion- Soccer/Football- “Side”

More than a few explicitly British football (soccer) terms have perniciously crept into U.S. soccer commentary, despite the precedence of perfectly serviceable American alternatives.

Side: In a word, “team.” There is no reason other than the British say it that an American would choose to refer to a soccer/football team as a “side.” The word is, of course, a longstanding reasonable secondary or alternate for “team,” but it is not a reasonable primary word. It should be left aside in broadcast commentary.

NB:

LaMarcus Nowitski

LaMarcus Aldridge is a true NBA All Star. He’s got a great game. And his game is Dirk Nowitski’s.

Most NBA players are compared to other players who look like them. Short, quick black players are compared to other short, quick black players. New European sharpshooters or centers are compared to older ones. Tall, high-scoring, not-too-athletic white American forwards draw the inevitable Larry Bird comparison. Most NBA players, at least early in their careers, earn a bookmark or reference comparison to a veteran or former player who—more than anything else—looks a lot like him. Someone compared to Scottie Pippen will almost always look a lot like Scottie Pippen.

This is why few people think to compare LaMarcus Aldridge to Dirk Nowitski, even though they might as well be the same player. Dirk is white and Euro, LaMarcus is black and Texan, and that seems to be reason enough to prevent most commentators from appreciating how alike they are.

Both are high-scoring, good-rebounding power forwards with excellent footwork and deadly jumpers. They are about the same size, but neither is tremendously athletic or flashy. Both are clutch players and team leaders.

But the true similarities emerge watching the flow of a game. They both amble down the court, find their favorite spots, survey the game situation with calm, and go about their methodical movements to a favored shot or a timely pass. On the defensive end, both are liabilities, as their lack of quickness allows opposing players to beat them to spots more often than not. Neither is strong enough to stop big men from bulling them over, yet both use their sure footwork, superior understanding of geometry, and excellent hand-eye coordination to (occasionally) block shots and snare unlikely rebounds. Neither handles the ball very well.

Yet for years, commentators have failed to make the obvious comparison between the two. While two or three years ago, similarities were there, but it was too much to say that LaMarcus modeled his game on Dirk (LaMarcus is seven years younger). Now it is not too much to say that. In the past three years (only in that time frame—look it up), Aldridge added a three-pointer to his repertoire. In the past two seasons, he’s added Dirk’s raised-leg fall away jumper. LaMarcus’ increased efficiency and conservation of movement has almost exactly paralleled the aging Nowitski’s concessions to the mobility/age matrix. In doing this, Aldridge has shown he is an excellent student as well as a fine player. It makes perfect sense to pattern his game on one of the most durable all-time NBA scorers.

Good for Dirk and LaMarcus. Not so good for most basketball pundits, who fail to notice the twins when they were right in front of them.

British Invasion- Soccer/Football- “Pitch”

More than a few explicitly British football (soccer) terms have perniciously crept into U.S. soccer commentary, despite the precedence of perfectly serviceable American alternatives.

Pitch: This is nothing more than a playing field. Why in the world would any American want to call it a pitch? It’s not angled, covered in tar, or distinguished by specific tonal resonance. Time to pitch this term (in the trash, of course, not bin or rubbish).

NB:

L.A. Clippers Will List with B-List “Upgrades”

While many commentators praise the L.A. Clippers’ offseason acquisitions, it’s difficult to understand why. How could anyone believe that the team improved through the additions of Paul Pierce, Josh Smith, and Lance Stephenson? Yikes! The Clippers will be disappointingly worse this year.

While Pierce is a certain future Hall of Famer, that future is not too distant. He is not the player he used to be, which is normal. Thinking he can be a full contributor on the court is not normal. Paul has lost quite a few steps, quite a few springs in his hop, and quite a few parts of the gyroscope that guided him though his once-outstanding lateral moves. He has not lost his spirit and his undeniable value as a teammate and mentor, so he’s worth having on the team for those intangibles. But he doesn’t make the Clippers a better team when he’s on the court.

Josh Smith will disappoint, as, sadly, he usually has. He played very well for Houston in the playoffs last year, but that was a rare short sample in a run of recent seasons where to call him inconsistent would be polite. He’s a fine athlete and probably a great guy, but his decision making has always called into question his basketball IQ. In short, he’ll dazzle with short bursts of virtuosity that will only leave the Clippers scratching their heads through the longer episodes of erratic play detrimental to victory. Josh Smith does not make the Clippers a better team; in fact, he has the potential to make them a much worse team.

Lance Stephenson doesn’t make any team better, and the last team that needed an infusion of Lance is the Clippers. It’s not like they don’t have enough quirkiness or personality. Even for the very short time that Lance was considered a top tier player (2013-2014 with Pacers), his antics on the court were sometimes hard to fathom—and forgive. He’s a bit more than eccentric or odd, and he’s not that good of an NBA player, so where is the upside to having him on the team?

The Clippers were a top-notch team last year. Maybe they thought they needed something extra to push them up to toppest-notch. These players aren’t that something.