Hustlenomics

Observe the wonderment before you read on.

Now that we've gotten our brief moment of wonderment at the Italian Stallion out of the way, we can move onto the real true subject of this post.
Let it never be said that Lamar Blogom didn't tip its cap to the hustlaz on the block. By that I mean all the real bangers floating around the league, the Patron Saint of which would have to be either Charles Oakley or the entire Bad Boys Pistons roster sans Isiah.

For all of my enamorment with the flashy O, some solid rebounding and general bad-dude stuntin gets my juices flowing almost as much. In most cases, shit goes overrecognized by announcers and sports columnists, and occasionally general managers (see Rose, Malik), but I would be completely in the wrong to dismiss hustlin' as a Right-Way-only facet of the most beautiful game.
Hustling, as a rule, creates the anti-stars sports writers slurp up like milk when they feel particularly vengeful towards the YB+F folks that create their profession. Feel like the star's mistreating you? Go talk to the grimy hustle dude at the end of the bench who sees the floor only to clean the glass. There's a reason that they're described as workmanlike; they're basically overpaid janitors.

But here I am blasting the very same people I promised to glorify with this shit. Let the beatification begin now.

I said earlier that hustling typically creates anti-stars who then become stars in their own right because they aren't paid a hundred million dollars, but then they get silly multi-year contracts for big bucks when their entire use in the first place was that they were cheap. I say that because it's like 90% true. However, the notable exceptions do exist.
Emeka Okafor and Dwight Howard are the most noticeable of these exceptions, at least in the current NBA. In both cases, neither is overburdened with especially silky post moves on which to fall back on (Chris Bosh). In both cases, they aren't such physical specimens that they become unguardable at least in part to their sheer physical size or strength (Shaq-fu). In both cases, they score a majority of their points on plays where they make a concerted effort to get the ball in a position where they can scratch their way to success.

In Howard's situation, the lack of a polished post game can be at least partially attributed to his overall rawness; he's basically a colt out on the court. I guess some of his success is indeed due to his physique, but a lot of it happens simply because he wants it more than the next dude. A great part of watching his development into a truly unstoppable force is watching those unsanded corners evolve into the smooth curves of one truly in tune with his given position. Now that I'm saying this I realize that he will probably become a nemesis when he sheds his youthfulness.

Okafor, on the other hand, has no excuse as readily available as Howard's youth and lack of college experience. Dude was a 4-year senior who played big minutes in the big time well before he crossed some state lines into Charlotte. Despite his experience in a great program and starring in the Big Dance, Okafor was all hustle (baby.) Typically those types of players crash and burn if they're expected to shoulder any kind of load at all on an NBA team, regardless of location or status.
But Okafor once again beat the odds. He's generally recognized as a franchise-type defensive player, and maybe-kinda-sorta getting there on offense. But, watch a Bobcats game (hard, I know) and you will see a man totally defined by his will to live. A truly low-rent version of Okafor is available in Los Angeles, who goes by the name of Ronny Turiaf, although he might fit more in the Dennis-Rodman-mold than the Charles-Oakley-type.