Fan Fanatic Sports Staff
Here's why I don't watch television news.
Moments after game two of the NBA Finals, the airwaves frenzied up a storm of hot air quicker than the Red Spot of Jupiter. Courtney Lee this, Courtney Lee that. If you listened to some of the "experts" on radio and television (ESPN and KCAL in particular) and took what they say at face value, right now you'd be wondering just how the heck Lee wakes up in the morning knowing that he just sealed the fate of humankind.
For those of you fortunate enough to have followed Anthony Kiedis' advice and throw away your television, here's what you missed: the Magic, with nine seconds left and the chance to win, drew up an alley oop-like play to Lee. Lee never got a grip on the ball, gave it a tap, and the ball clanked off the back iron.
Apparently, because he didn't put the game away, and the Magic had no answer for Pau Gasol in the extra frame, it's now Lee's fault that the Magic are “doomed”. Keep in mind this is game two. He is now a goat, a loser and the Antichrist, all wrapped into one.
One question: have any of you knuckleheads ever played basketball?
Look, Vin Baker sucks, and he might be one of the 10 worst basketball players to ever put on a Celtics uniform. But if he misses a finger roll, I'm not going to hound the dude and tell him his career is a complete waste. Why? Because that's an incredibly hard thing to do. I'm 5-foot-10, 215 pounds, with absolutely no handle, no post moves and no stamina; when I make four turnarounds in a row, I feel like I’m on cloud nine. But I’d never go up to the 6-foot-4 ex-Charlestown High baller guarding me and grunt, "you’re mine, punk."
Stan Van Gundy has been above-average in this series. Every other team so far has played the Lakers conventionally, straight no chaser, and failed. He knows he has to give them something unorthodox, something they haven’t seen before, which is why he called for such a unique inbound play.
But we forget how hard it is for these guys to make those kind of shots. We set the bar high, and when people hit it on their way down we want to scold them like the Class Derelict.
Let’s set the record straight, please. What he did Sunday night is not a "career-defining moment".
Courtney Lee is a late first-round rookie out of Western Kentucky. He is a 6-foot-5 combo guard who was drafted on the pretense that he could supplement Dwight Howard, Rashard Lewis and Jameer Nelson with some great off-the-ball activity (i.e., defense, setting screens, creating space). He averages eight points; wasn’t supposed to set anybody’s world on fire; wasn’t meant to be a three-point specialist. He was meant to be a nice role player.
In other words, he does all the little things that go unnoticed.
So with all that said, how happy were you to see Courtney Lee have an OK game last night, a 108-104 win that cut the Lakers lead to 2-1? He did exactly what he was told, and the Magic grinded out a gutsy win.
Courtney Lee’s career will be defined by his old-school mentality. Not by missing some freaking alley oop.
For those of you who missed Dan Wetzel’s column on Rafer Alston yesterday, you missed some great scene-setting. The meat and potatoes:
He doesn't question the route he took to get to the present, he just focuses on finding one that will take him to the future. In a sports world filled with guys consumed with intensity, especially after losses, his attitude can drive people crazy.
After this victory, Alston sat in front of a locker filled with And1 sneakers and tried to get teammate Marcin Gortat to teach him some Polish.
Gortat is a bald 7-footer from an old textile town in central Poland. These two couldn't be less alike, an only-in-the-NBA pairing. Naturally, they are great friends. So Gortat complied, teaching him "how are you" in Polish.
The NBA public relations people were waiting to whisk Alston off for a waiting pack in the interview room, but this seemed important to him.
"See, I don’t want to talk to you," Alston laughed to Gortat. "I want to talk to Polish women."
This is what runs through Rafer Alston’s head minutes after the biggest game of his life.
If you don't find beauty in that passage, you have no soul, and you should leave.
Now.
Ish.
In a world gone mad, it's just absolutely beautiful to see that, at the end of the day, at least one man still sees the game of basketball as just a game. Nothing more.
Objects, not subjects.
Now THAT is cool.
And beautiful.
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