HIBACHI!

Happy Kwanzaa and New Years from Lamar Blogom, which has finished its holiday hiatus (finally) and will be back on a semi-regular posting schedule. Among my resolutions is at least 3 quality posts a week, with an option for a fourth depending on homework load.

Anyways.

We've discussed AgentZero 6 times, this one the most in depth of them all. He is quite simply far and away the most singular and awesome player in the NBA. His game could be easily pigeonholed into that of a shoot-first, pass- (and ask questions-)later PG that Mamba of all people accused of being sans conscious.
Gilbert's game could be described as a more perfect extension of the steez originated by the Answer. He has that same sort of funky-freshness and feel-good little man aura about him, along with an insatiable urge to get the fuck to the bucket, but he also cops some serious juevos AI lacks when it comes to shots outside the 3-point line.

Here's something else important: GILBERT'S IN HIS 5TH YEAR!

As Peter, my spiritual cowriter, points out--he's only beginning to flash some serious scoring ability. Last season could be described as the one where he exploded onto our oily stage, and 06-07 is just a confirmation of his gunnerly goodness. Dude got snubbed twice last year: once at the ASG, and once by the Olympic team. He basically vowed revenge on the entire league (and specifically the Suns and Blazers, against whom he pledged to average 50 ppg) and backed his shit up--averaging over 30 since he was left off the All-Star team, and scored 54 against the Suns in his only outing opposite McMillan or D'Antoni.

Gilbert's dagger against the Bucks is only an extension of what all of us here at Lamar hope will become the type of legend we tell to our grand kids while we bounce their asses on our knees and try to ignore the arthritis. If you watch the ESPNews feed, you are not only treated to the announcer yelling "HIBACHI" like it's the only word he knows in the damn language, but also a brutal scowl Gil flashes for approx. 1 second after dropping the Bucks to their knees. Then the man is nothing but smiles as he walks towards his bench and the signature jersey toss.

His game is the purest form of gunnership. By that I mean that he has that sort of star quality where the defense matters only as an incidental. Gil has to work harder than maybe Kobe or TMac does, but he's different than they are in that he plays the game of basketball as if it's totally incidental to whatever else he's doing that night.

Perhaps another reason we find Gilbert so appealing is that he has a little bit of child left in him. Sure he has his occasional bouts of petulance involving a lot of assists and not too much scoring, followed by the opposite, but he also has the sort of sublime quality of figuring out the game as he goes along. This in direct opposition to his Division-mate Dwyane Wade, who seemingly has the game on lock every time he steps onto the floor. Not to say that Gilbert doesn't have more than his share of swagger (and outright cockiness), but his confidence comes and goes. When it is there, he heats up like the Hibachi Grill that he so espouses. When it's not, dude could be a Frigidaire for how he trots around the court.

AgentZero is also childish in his actions outside the court.

(I should clarify that when I say childish I don't mean immature and shits himself. What I do mean is that he has some serious child-savior vibes happening around him, including his innocence w/r/t traditional means of playing basketball.)

Rather than spend time with teammates out on the town, Gilbert chooses to stay in his hotel room and order things from infomercials. Now tell me that there isn't some part of every one of us that wants to just sit around and buy supersharp knives and other errata. In fact, that same proclivity for infomercial ordering has probably manifested itself in what was for a long time his trademark shout of Hibachi.

Drop it like it's hot

Is it just me or are medics across both nations working serious overtime these days:

• Bosh goes out indefinetly 8 days ago with a knee injury. He is apparently back practicing
• TMac is walking around with his annual back injury. Out indefinetly since the 12th.
• Lamar has a well-documented issue with his knee.
• The Big Chinese Person fractures his medial tibial plateau. Not his knee, as Uncle Tim points out. Gone for 6 weeks.
• Monta Ellis, Yay Area hero, hurts his shoulder in last night's game.
• Josh Smith has hernia surgery, gone for four weeks.
• Nenad Krstic shreds his anterior cruciate ligament. Done for the year.
• Sam.i.am w/plantar fasciitis, could sit out a few games.

In a related note, have a very Merry Xmas watching the G.O.A.T. duking it out with Public Enemy #1.

EDIT: Observe Dan le Batard's excellent profile on KB24. More on that later.

Pleasures abound

Tuesday was a special time in Lamar Blogom history; it was the first game ever attended with Lamar distinctly in mind. Of course, he decided to freak the joint up.

Someone who did the opposite of freak the joint up was Mamba. We've discussed him before, way back in June of 2006 A.D. What we did not discuss is his insane artistry and newfound efficiency. His knee surgery, which sidelined him for the first two games of this year and still probably continues to limit him even as he composes his unique art on the basketball court. While he usually paints masterpieces full of fluidity and graceful brushstrokes, it is as if he has been handed watercolors with which to replicate the Mona Lisa.

After he drove Shaq from the mix, the masses decried him as a traitorous snake in the grass. He remains a petulant force to be contended with--see Game 7 of last year's 1st round for example--but despite or perhaps because of his balance of maturity and childishness Mamba rises above the hapless flocks with his scoring genius.

His 2004 was of disastrous proportions, aided and abetted by the non-factor of Rudy Tomjonavich and his later illness-induced substitute Frank Hamblen. Reunited with the Wizard of Hollywood, Mamba saw his star rise anew, outshining even his former Shaq-fu-aided greatness. At times he seemed to transcend the sport itself as he glided about the hardwood, throwing in baskets from insane angles with approximately half the damn Staples Center in his grill.

Mamba's frenzied bloodlust crested in the month-long stretch in which he dropped 62 and 81 on the Mavs and Raps, respectively. Afterwards, perhaps fueled by his teammates' emergence as a force viable of the master's consideration, he receded slightly from the spotlight. Not to say that he did not still own the court like a lion tamer, but he allowed others to bask in his glorious glow as he gallivanted about on his holy quest.
Shaq-fu was the first of the legendary duo to recapture former glory without the other, but he did so at the hands of the Devil himself, Dwyane Wade. The referees aided and abetted Shaq in his quest for greatness. They did no such favor for his former teammate and nemesis, as he found himself robbed of a game-changing bucket in the waning moments of Game 1.

That is beside the point. The point is that even as Mamba finds himself limited by a bum knee and tough conference, he will reinvent himself and his teammates to rise above the unwashed horde in a quest for absolution. Perhaps it won't come this season, but as Andrew "Big Pussy" Bynum grows and matures along with Turiaf the Beast, his conflict will be resolved with a success so resounding as to shake the foundations of the sport to their core.

Right hand men

Koach K and Kolangelo have created a Team USA seemingly unmatched in international competition. Italia came the closest, but ultimately found itself lacking when Carmelo took the opportunity to self-actualize his potential mastery of all things FIBA.

The Doctrine of Dominance K set up since day one has payed its dividends, Team USA looks like an irresistable force moving towards ultimate victory on the world stage. However, the roots of the Doctrine of Dominance draw water from concerning locations.
Their belief that America can continue to dominate the world is one based in an old mode of thinking. It hearkens back to the Two Superpower era of the Cold War, ignoring the fractured and diverse beast that the world stage has become. The United States government faces a similar battle of understanding; unilateralism may have worked in 1992, but it sure as hell won't in 2006.

A key misunderstanding is the assumption that the rest of the world will continue to be cowed by the mere presence of such NBA luminaries as King James, DWyade, and Lo. The world simply does not care. It looks upon such players not as gods, but as the men they are.

When Kolangelo-K realize their error in judgement and addopt a less jingoistic view of the world, America will truly rise to power.

The Dirty (Half) Dozen

Where would a ridiculous team with no basis in reality be without a bench?

Nowhere, that's where.

So for today's column, I give my fantasy soldiers some reserves with which to galavant into battle.


G: Eddie House

Thug sets the world alight like no other when his J drops. He wasn't a world beater in the playoffs, but he's a monster on the way there.

Maybe the Suns needed to work harder to get him open shots, maybe they needed to run him off of screens more, maybe they needed to have him on the floor more often, but something didn't work.

That's why he's on the bench.

G/F: Andre Iguodala

The other AI, a defensive wizard with mad hops and a penchant for throwing down dunks that would make Shawn Kemp say "Damn!"

He deserves a spot on this squad if for nothing other than his hammer blows to the rim, but when you add in the ability to lock down on opposing shooting guards and small forwards, you have a guaranteed spot and a seven year contract.


F: Chris Wilcox

We'll call him the Professor. I think he needs a sweet nickname. Plus, Chris Wilcox just seems like a name for which that nickname is suited.

Nicks aside, he runs the floor, rebounds, blocks, dunks things, and generally creates havock. That type of person is good to have around, especially if he's just coming out of his shell.

His improvement might not be Dwight Howard-esque, but he might develop into a dead man's Amare Stoudemire. Even if he never learns to play defense properly, who wouldn't love to have a supersized dude nicknamed the Professor flying around?


F: Udonis Haslem

If there's one thing I love, it's undersized power forwards. If there are two things I love, they are undersized power forwards named Udonis.

He was the unsung hero of Game 6 of the NBA Finals; the Heat wouldn't have had a chance without his retarded 15-foot Js that looked they were never going to fall.

Udon also doubles as the only member of the Heat I would not glare at if I passed him on the street. Dwyane can't even spell his name right and now he's Finals MVP? Come on.


G: Mickael Pietrus

On the squad for his defensive wizardry if nothing else. As a huge bonus, if he ever figures out how to play offense, we have a latter-day Kobe on our hands.

That's a lie, but if you know someone who started as only being good at defense and then evolved into a threat on the offensive end, please let me know and I will change it.

G: Marquis Daniels

You may remember good 'Quis as the only Maverick to show up for Game 6. You may also remember him as the subject of Avery Johnson's curious decision to bench the most productive scorer on the floor.

He made White Chocolate and Dwyane Wade look like the bitches they deserve to look like on a nightly basis.

Then, he was traded for Austin Croshere.

There is no good explanation for someone with sick driving and some point guard skills should be shipped off for a do-nothing whiteboy who has his run of glory 8 years ago in college.

G: Bobby Jackson

Maybe I missed something. Did Bobby Jackson kill someone's dog?

For some reason, he went from ridiculously talented backup to shitkicker that no-one would touch. I can detect no reason other than pet slaughter to justify his free fall from grace.

He's a steady hand backing up the point, one who can stroke the occasional 3, pass the ball to the open man, and penetrate the paint when necessary.

A good 12th man unless he kills another cat.

The Sun Switches Horizons

Basketball and life are cyclical.

Since 1999, the Lakers and Spurs have dominated the universe with the exception of the 2004 anomaly. The East has been dominated by subpar teams of late-- even the Heat last year were broken for a champion. It was only due to injuries or chaos that any Eastern team has risen to the ultimate pedestal of late, but dominance is swinging back across the center of the country.

With the infusion of 'Mek, G Walls, 'Bron, Bosh, Villanueva, Dwight, and even Public Enemy Number 1, the East's underdog status is in danger of disappearing for the next decade. The West's collapse is imminent, unless sustained by the creative forces that summoned both PHX and DAL.

With Colangelo's departure that invention is looking less and less imminent. The East is embracing a new age of basketball player, while the West attempts to replicate that success with entire teams.

One of those two is sustainable. I guess we'll find out.

An official retraction, but one with none of the sadness of being proved wrong

Peep the new sidebar if there is any confusion about how Lamar feels about the above man. Whether or not his influence on the NBA is disastrous as Simmons suggests one thing is certain. This New NBA thing still has some kinks to work out.

The NBA draft is the perfect vessel to re-energize the movement that swept us up in its revolutionary fervor prior to the handjob PE #1 received from the referees. There are no standouts in this crop. Rather, there are none apparent on first analysis; Chris Paul was an unexpected Franchise out of last year's draft.

The 2006 Draft is not one that carries a savior on the wings of its arrival. Instead, it will serve to cement the emerging image of a league not dominated by two star teams filled with players designed not to mess up, but controlled by teams with a mix of players ultimately adapted to that coach's system.
In every draft, there are diamonds. In some front offices, someone to find them(s).

What once was decided now no longer is

In all of this chatter about the "New NBA," especially that which Simmons has been doing, an essential fact has been ignored: the NBA referees are still dick-suckingly awful.

Basketball is a nearly impossible sport to officiate; the number of bodies flowing around the ball, as well as the subjective nature of many rules, mean that even if refs have a good angle, they might not make the right call. In a sport where split-second judgements are the norm, the refs should be the best of the best. No below-average official should officiate a single game of the NBA Playoffs, and especially not the NBA Finals.

Bad referees are an unavoidable point of the game. Forget players, try and figure out whether or not the ref will do a good job tonight. The point is that it is almost impossible for any referee to call a game consistently fair to both sides. One fan base or another will always be up in arms over a percieved gangbang by the whistlemen.

That being said, Game 5 was an egregious example of how not to referee an NBA Finals game.

The call Bennet Salvatore made for Dwyane Wade was exactly everything it should not have been: it was late, it was a bad angle, there was no contact, and it's the motherfucking NBA Finals.

That such a call was made is a testament to Wade's star power. In short, he has arrived at his destination; only a select few inspire 50 foot whistles with the mere miss of a shot.


True, Wade may be celebrating with a bottle of champaigne if the Heat prevail tonight, but he will be a false god. Those who look upon this championship must do so with the same asterisk that adorns all others before it: Referees were involved.

In Which the Quandary of Darko is Discussed

Darko is perhaps one of the biggest quandaries of the 2003, or any draft. See my post yesterday for why he didn't fit in with the Pistons, but it's debatable whether or not any of the players drafted before or after him would've added a damn thing to that mix.

The Pistons' starting 5 was and is a mortal lock every single year. It is very probable that had anyone--aside from LBJ--been drafted to that team, they would have spent the majority of two years languishing on the bench. 'Melo, Dwyane, and Bosh are all very good players, players that would start for any team in the league... Now.

Had the Piston's picked any of them, we would still be reading stories about how they're flourishing in practice, or waiting for their chance to shine.

By drafting Darko, Joe Dumars sealed his fate as a disappointment for the Pistons. With a coach that hates rookies and foreigners, it is highly retarded to pick someone in the draft who is both. It's avoidable to pick rookies in the draft: Dwyane Wade and Chris Bosh were both veterans of sorts.

However, someone as raw as Darko was doomed to languish, forever lost, on the Piston's bench simply because Larry Brown rocks it like the Know-Nothing Party. Now that Darko has found his place on the Magic, he has a chance to establish himself as another premier player emerging from that draft of yore.

If Darko does pull the sword from the stone and takes his place at the Round Table of King James, the Magic will wield a frontcourt the likes of which the world has never seen. Dwight Howard is still immature, and look what he does on the daily.

If the Magic get their hands on Rudy Gay, watch the fuck out.