Jack’s Blog

After being inundated with NFL Draft information, I went back to a blog I wrote two years ago and was shocked (although I don’t why I should have been).  Actually, the reason I’m posting this so long after the draft is that I just dug myself out from under all the mounds of vital stats gleaned from the combine - Wonderlict scores, 40 times, how many times a guy could bench press 220 pounds (I think there’s an offensive lineman out there who’s still going) and this one absolutely slayed me, the quarterback who had the longest standing long jump.  How in the world could a team pass up a quarterback who possesses such an important tool?  Think of all the games that are lost because the losing team’s QB couldn’t long jump from a standing position!  Undoubtedly, some helmet head out there will read this (or have it read to him) and say, “Huh, the general public - what the hell do they know about how to construct a winning football team?” 

And he’s right.  Football people know infinitely more than I, a casual fan, do (as long as it’s not somebody from the Lions, because in that case, independent of what I know or don’t know, I couldn’t have done a worse job last year than those architects did).  Here’s my blog from two years ago, nearly to the day.  Read it and tell me how much improvement has been made in the evaluating and drafting process.

Forever, we’ve heard that draft day is so difficult for football teams.  No one’s sure which list is longer - first rounders who became busts or low draft picks (or even free agents) who became All-Stars.

Each year, greater technology is used but it never ceases to amaze us how wrong certain picks can be.  This has to be due to the human element.  Way back when, guys were selected though what decision makers, e.g. owners, general managers, coaches, player personnel directors heard about the players from friends, other coaches, confidants and, who knows, maybe even fans or sportswriters.  Now, we have combines (I thought that’s how wheat was harvested, not players) and tests, both psychological and written.

It would seem that watching a player play would be a better indicator than how fast someone runs a 40 (if a guy has a great 40 time, you’ll want to play him in case the other team has someone really fast who breaks away and you need to catch him, except when that happens, it’s too late to sub), or how many times he can bench press 220 lbs. (”Boy, he looks awful on video but how can we pass on some so strong?), or how high he can jump (jumping doesn’t seem to be in the top 5 talents needed to play football) or how well he scored on a test (remember, many of these guys haven’t taken a test without the help of a tutor in years).

Coaches always say, “The film doesn’t lie,” yet film be damned when it comes to evaluating talent (”Just let me see him at the combine or in an individual workout”) - where there are no screaming fans, there’s no “team” scoreboard on and the only competition is the stop watch, free weights and sticks coming out of a pole.

Call me old-fashioned (because I probably am), but watching a player in person - on film if being there’s not possible - of course, taking into account who the opponent is and calling on people you can trust (relationships made throughout a long career) has to be more reliable.  Some guys are magnificent performers “until the lights go on” - and with the money and future (your job!) being invested, you’d want to be as certain as possible.

Naturally, one-on-one interviews are a must, but, again, some people can fool you. Using all the modern methods of information gathering isn’t a waste, but the greater variety of these tools used, the greater number of egos become involved.  You may tell me he’s fast, but I want to time him (or have one of my people do it).  A psychologist has mounds of empirical data from a test (s)he’s developed, along with accuracy of prediction of success.  Having things you can trust (a pair of eyes which have watched thousands of hours of video) and an experienced mind (compare him to somebody from years past?) and the opinions of people you would select to be in a bunker with you if it came down to it, ought to make you more comfortable than a new breed of “experts,” most of whose evaluation techniques are conducted in much more sterile environments than a true football player deals with. 

When it comes to technology, I agree with Dale Carnegie: 

“As technical skills have gotten better, communication skills have gotten worse.”

It’s always baffled me why anyone would want to be a referee, umpire or official of any sort in an athletics contest.  Sure, you get to “stay in the game” after you’re too old to play it and, you do get paid.

Those two “perks” pale in comparison to all the negatives you encounter.  One, no matter what you call - or don’t call - you have people who will not only disagree with you, but be extremely vocal, even rude (including vulgar) about it, voicing their disagreement of your opinion, which, if you’re what nearly every official is (Tim Donaghy excluded), you made to the best and fairest of your abilities. 

Second, especially if you referee basketball, you have chosen a nearly impossible task.  In many instances, not only would some of your colleagues not only see the call you made differently than you did, they would defend their decision as strongly as you would defend yours.  What this means is that your job (and all the decisions that come with it) - and which affect the participants on the playing surface much more than they do you, has become incurably subjective.  This can only cause headaches for the person (you) who is supposed to have no stake in the outcome, yet whose every call can make a winner into a loser, or vica versa.

One major bone of contention is that too many (and one is too many) officials have overblown opinions of themselves, i.e. they know they have that kind of power - and many thrive on it.  Many are typical humans, people who like to hear the approval of the crowd.  This brand of official is known as the homer.  Make the call in favor of the home squad and you are serenaded with loud and, seemingly, loving cheers - almost like you actually did something that others ought to be celebrating.

On the other hand, there are those “whistle blowers” who truly get a kick out of upsetting folks and enjoy the chorus(es) of boos they extract from an otherwise civil group of men, women and children.  These are, in most instances, the egomaniacs.  Each of the two groups have a common trait.  They are nearly always wrong, and are among the most inept people performing their jobs that we have in today’s society, but fail to understand their incompetence.

One thing in their favor: not only do they not have to discuss their job performance, they aren’t allowed to.  In an earlier blog, I mentioned that my friend and mentor, as well as my former boss, George Raveling, made the comment regarding the officials: “This is some country.  You can call the President of the United States a (jerk) but you can’t say anything about the officials.”

For the two incompetent groups mentioned thusfar in this blog, there is a weird and terrible mix taking place.  People who aren’t very good at their job are not being held accountable.  Directors of officiating will vehemently disagree.  They claim there have been officials who been fined, suspended or even dismissed from the profession.  Yet, that still can’t come close to making up for the awful travesty the official(s) created.  When teams win or lose, it goes on their records.  Ever ask an official what his/her record is?  It’s one of those hypothetical questions you hope doesn’t have an answer (another Donaghy reference).

All of this (gentle) ranting has a point.  If the officiating crew from last night’s Boston-Chicago NBA game aren’t subjected to intense scrutiny regarding the non-call on the Celts’ Rajon Rondo, when he simply smacked - with quite a bit of force - Bulls’ center, Brad Miller, in the face on his would be game-tying layup, with less than five seconds left  in overtime - then let all the conspiracy theories abound.

With the Celtics up 106-104, courtesy of Paul Pierce’s clutch jumper (he seems to have an endless supply), the Bulls called their final time out.  Even knowledgeable Doug Collins made the statement that there was nothing either of these teams could do that the other didn’t know.  It certainly sounded reasonable, since this was the fifth game in the best of seven series and three of the five, including this one, had gone into overtime.  But the Bulls ran an out of bounds play with a great deal of movement and cutters . . . and lo and behold, there was Brad Miller, standing with the ball, at the free throw line - and nobody in front of him!

He took a dribble toward the basket and looked as if he were going to dunk, tying the game and sending it into a second overtime (matching Sunday’s game).  Rondo came from the sideline where the ball had been inbounded and just took a swing at Miller’s head.

What’s beautiful is that, even in the pro game, make that especially in the pro game, the calls are so difficult to differentiate, two people of sound mind can sit next to each other and see a call exactly opposite from one another.  Personal prejudice has to be factored in - not only which team the person’s for, but what other life experiences the person has encountered.  Case in point: On the TNT in studio set, Charles Barkley (a big guy, who’d been situations like Miller) exclaimed that Rondo committed a flagrant foul, while his partner, Kenny Smith (a former point guard), maintained that Rondo, also a point, was making a play on the ball (what distinguishes a flagrant foul - illegal - from just a hard foul - illegal).

The officials did call a foul, but not a flagrant one.  To muddy it up a little more, Collins made the claim that, while it may have been a flagrant foul, there’s no way an official would, or should, call it flagrant at that point in the game.  Kind of the “let the players decide the game.”  This flys in the face of “a foul is a foul and if it’s a foul early in the first quarter, then it ought to be a foul at the end.”  And, working off of that theory, a flagrant foul at the beginning ought to be a flagrant foul at the end.  Yet, many in the game feel that the calls made at the beginning are made to set the tone by which the game will be called, i.e. the refs are “going to take control of the game and not let it get out of hand.”

I’m not saying that this is wrong; it’s that I’ve never seen it anywhere in the rule book. This means the rules are subject to each referee or each trio working a game.  Talk about a can of worms.

Full disclosure: As many who read this blog on an even semi-regular basis know, one of my closest friends, Dave Severns, is an assistant coach for the Bulls.  However, I consider Bulls’ assistant Kevin Eastman a friend (in fact, he and I were roommates at Michael Jordan’s Flight School Summer Camp) and, while I only know Doc Rivers on a casual basis, I’ve never even met Vinny Del Negro.  What I’m trying to say is I honestly believe I can leave the partisanship at the door when it comes to judging calls, especially after seeing many replays from all different angles. 

One of the most vital facets in officiating is that the referee (umpire, linesman, back judge, etc.) must have confidence of judgment that the call that’s made is the right one, made with integrity and without an ounce of outside influence.  Each call is to follow the basic tenet of all fouls, advantage/disadvantage or did one player gain an unfair advantage or, was a player put at a disadvantage.  In the book, The Aladdin Factor, confidence is descibed like this:

“Self-confidence is the result of a successfully survived risk.”

In the recently completed series against the Utah Jazz, each of the games had a common theme.  The Los Angeles Lakers would get out to an early (big) lead, only to watch the Jazz claw back and cut it to a number small enough to keep the television audience from switching to another channel - but never to a point where Laker fans ever felt worried the team would actually lose.

Is there cause to worry?  Let’s take an objective look at this so-called problem:

Yes, because Utah is the number 8 seed.  When you get sloppy, you’ll find that, although you might be able to get away with that type of play against the 8 seed, as the number of playoff teams dwindle, anything less than the best - certainly anything remotely similar to the kind of exhibition put on by the Lakers against the Jazz - will lead to the Lakers’ downfall.

Nah, the fact that the boys from LA can get a lead like that against, not any number 8 seed, but the Utah Jazz, illustrates how good the Purple & Gold really is.

Yes, of course, if a team can’t focus for a full 48 minutes, keep in mind the number one thought many people have regarding the NBA - “I don’t start watching until the last two minutes - that’s when the game’s won or lost - everybody’s so good (especially those in the playoffs).”

No, Kobe can score anytime he wants.  Did you see the displays he’s been putting on against the Jazz, a team that takes pride in their defense (or else their coach threatens them with bodily harm up to the legal limit - and then some)?  Kobe just decides when he wants to score and then, does it.

Yes, exactly the point - if he can go 5-24 like he did in Game 3 in Salt Lake, it could happen anytime, anywhere!  After all, even though he might be a little more than human, even godlike creatures can have off nights - and there’s another freak just like him waiting when the finals roll around.

No, most of the time the Lakers lost those leads, it was against the second team (like last night, if you heard Kobe on the post game interview - and he plans, along with the other vets, to have a heart-to-heart with those second teamers).  By the way, those second team guys are possibly as good as some first teams, and as they get closer, Kobe and the older, wiser guys will teach the youngsters how to stay centered and to be right where they’re supposed to be.

Yes, what if, hypothetically, the lack of focus happens before they’ve built up a seemingly insurmountable lead.  The younger guys might have a panic attack (”Hey, what do we do now?  Where’s Kobe????”)

No way, Phil Jackson’s not making the kind of bread he is (just) because he dating the boss’ daughter.  He’ll have his squad more than ready because, after all, this might be gut check time for some of the less experienced Lakers, but Phil’s been around the block several times.

The argument could go on and on, which might be fun for those involved in it, but not for the rest of us who are really looking forward to watching LA do its thing all the way to the finals, where it seems inevitable they’ll meet up with the Cleveland Cavaliers and then, the series between the Lakers and Cavs, as well as the one between Kobe and LeBron can capture the entire sports nation’s collective interest.  This will be one of those matchups that even the casual fan will get into.

And then this type of talk will take a back seat to the play, because no one wants to hear about what happened, they want to see it before their own eyes.  Similarly, the remainder of the playoffs will be much more action and much less talk, because there’s so much on the line.  As one former Jazz great, Karl Malone, was fond of saying:

“One thing I don’t believe in is excuses.”�

First of all, I need to apologize to anyone who went to this site on Saturday & Sunday (yesterday) because I don’t blog when I go out of town.  However, on the post prior to my leaving, I try to make sure I let readers know that there will be nothing new here until I get back - so you don’t have waste time checking in and finding it out for yourself, which is an excuse - and, if you’ve read other blogs I’ve written, excuses aren’t allowed.  The main reason for my forgetfullness was that I wasn’t as organized as I should have been.

Sometimes, though, being organized doesn’t guarantee successful outcomes.  This past weekend will serve as exhibit number one.  Our older son, Andy, is a sophomore at UC-Irvine.  When he was in high school, seemingly every one of his buddies wanted to drive trucks.  Not 18-wheelers, the kind people drive to grind out a living, but pick ups, be they two-seaters, club cabs, extended cabs - almost anything with a bed for storage.

How the times change!  None, except for Andy-Boy, have those “fad” items now and he, too, is ready for a change.  The deal my wife and I gave him is you can get whatever you want - as long as it doesn’t exceed what you get for the ‘03 black, single cab Chevy Silverado - a mere 55K on the odometer (with all the “fixin’s” - wheels, rims, bedliner and other things with names I don’t know but that nevertheless make it noisier and sleeker-looking than someone else’s ‘03 black, single cab Chevy Silverado).

Since our younger son, Alex, was playing in a basketball tournament in Long Beach, Andy was going to come up in his truck and have one of his SAE frat bro’s follow him so he’d have a ride back to UC-I.  Actually, several of the brothers wanted to come up because they’ve been hearing of Alex’s exploits on the hardwood (a 6′2″ freshman, he started on the Buchanan HS varsity and averaged nearly 14 ppg).  What compounded the problem was that my wife, Jane, as much as she wanted to see Alex play (but even more so, wanting to be with her number one son who we don’t get to see that often due to his being four hours away - and with SoCal traffic, the four hours is only a beginning estimate), had so much to do at home, she decided to stay in Fresno. 

This meant Alex and I needed a one-way ride with somebody.  To the rescue, as they always are, came the Johnsons, Denise and CJ, parents of team member, Denzel, and also, of two older sons, each of whom Andy played with at Clovis West HS.  Denise and CJ are as fine a set of parents - or simply people (genuine would be the best descriptive word for them), anyone will ever find.  They’ll take care of their boys, but other folks’ children as well.  Their generosity knows no limits, even though they are struggling through the same tough times each of the rest of us are.  An example: when I went to give CJ gas money, he refused it.  I’d hear nothing of that, since he bailed us out and had to force it on him.  On Sunday morning, knowing Alex was hurting and I was still without a means of transportation, he knocked on our door and showed up with breakfast for both of us.  Everyone should be so blessed as to know people like Denise and CJ.   

Well, the first game was scheduled for 9:00 am on Saturday morning (a time no college freshman is interested in on the weekend).  And, since it was a tournament format (as opposed to pool play), when the team played next depended on how they did in their previous game.  When our team, Organized Chaos, won easily in their first game, a check of the brackets showed their next game wasn’t until 4:00 pm.  This caused a dilemma because Andy’s part-time job at Gina’s Pizza had him working at 5:00 that night.  Since it was a 30-40 minute drive from Irvine, the 4:00 game became an impossibility.  No problem.  He’d planned on coming to Sunday’s contests anyway so he wasn’t going to give up his truck until then.

The 4:00 game was against Team Ariza, basically, the players from Westchester (L.A.) HS, sponsored by one of their very own who made good - real good - in his post-scholastic line of work, the NBA.  Yup, the team was sponsored (outfitted, entry fees paid for, as well as whatever else the total price tag was for an AAU team) by the Lakers’ Trevor Ariza.  Two other NBA players (that I know of, there may be hundreds) who do the same are Lamar Odom and Rafer Alston.  An aside: Rafer is someone I’m partial to since he was at Fresno State when I was there and he’s a great example of a young man who grew up and learned how to be responsible - occasionally, by not being responsible.  He might not be a finished project even yet (how many of us are) but, for all those who are critical of Rafer, please keep in mind that he has positively influenced more young kids that all his critics combined because, not only does he pay the entire freight, he coaches them too!  I’ve seen him in action and he’s into every move - encouraging, and when necessary, getting onto the players who make the inexcusable, e.g. lack of hustle, plays.

Back to the game, one which would prove to begin as one of the most promising, then turn into the shortest of Alex’s brief career to date.  He opened the game by nailing a three-pointer from the corner to put OC up, 3-0.  Team Ariza came down, and although my memory’s hazy, I believe Alex got a steal.  The guys from Central Cali then missed a short jumper, which Alex rebounded and passed to his friend and teammate, Denzel, who got fouled taking it strong to the basket.  On the next trip, a shot went up and Alex came down on the side of his ankle (he can’t remember if he landed on someone else’s foot or just the floor), but he heard something pop.

He hobbled off the floor, headed to the tournament trainer (a young lady, certified athletic trainer who was terrific) to find out what someone in the know regarding athletic injuries had to say.  She did a thorough examination, and after poking and prodding, came up with the diagnosis - a severe high ankle sprain.  I spent thirty years in intercollegiate athletics, including taking a Care & Prevention of Athletic Injuries course in graduate school.  I knew Mr. Alex’s playing days were going to be put on hold for at least 4-6 weeks. 

Now, I had to call Andy & tell him not to have a caravan come up from Irvine because Alex was out of action.  If he could get one of his SAE’ers to follow, the four of us would go to lunch, then he & his other frat rat would head south and his (blood) brother and I would make the four-hour trek home.

Our search for a nice place to have lunch took us to an inviting looking joint called the Gaffney Street Diner in San Pedro.  We passed the place, turned right at the corner and pulled into a fenced in parking lot.  The lot was directly behind a building housing two businesses, although one was shut down, a “FOR RENT” sign in the window.  The business next to it was a bait and tackle shop.  Next to that was our eatery.  As soon as I walked in, I asked a lady - who looked like, if she wasn’t in charge, she was a veteran of the Gaffney, and could answer my question.  “Are we allowed to park in the lot behind the bait store?”

“Oh, certainly, we allow their customers in our lot and they allow ours to park in theirs.”  Good enough.  “So, what, on the menu, looks good today?”

We ate, chatted it up - about everything - academics (and how much harder college was than high school), Alex’s basketball (he’s been invited to the NIKE Jamboree in St. Louis in June for the top 100 freshman and sophomores) and their intramurals (softball’s in now; this, after winning for the first time ever, in the history of SAE, the basketball championship), to living arrangements for next year and, somehow, even girls made their way into the conversation.  By now, it was nearly 3:30 and time to leave (Andy had to go to work at 5:00 again and we were facing a four (minimum) drive back - in a truck with no backseat - and Alex supposed to having his foot elevated.

I paid the check, even gave a brochure and business card for C.U.T.E.* Baby Gifts since one of the waitresses mentioned one of her colleagues was pregnant.  It looked like things might be looking up when Andy, ahead of us because of how slowly Alex was forced to hobble, came back and said, “You’re not going to believe this, but we’re locked in the parking lot!” 

Apparently, the bait & tacle shop owner left (the sign said they closed at 3:00 on Sundays) and when he did, he just locked the gate with a padlock when he left.  Not good.  I told them to stay and I went back to the diner, where I explained the situation.  The owner of the diner was beside herself.  “We have a reciprocal agreement.  The very least the owner next door could have done was walk into the diner and asked if anyone in there had vehicles parked there because he was leaving and locking up.”

Her idea was to cut the lock.  Since my idea was to get home, I had no problem with anything that would get us out of that parking lot.  I looked and there was no phone number listed on the bait store, only their hours.  The only number was for their security company to the store, so I called that, but on Sunday no one answered and there was no voice mail message.  Andy’s friend, Stratton, said he thought he might have some cutters in his car, so he went down to the end where it was an easy hop over the fence, but he didn’t have them.  While the diner people (who genuinely shared in our struggle) went to get their lock cutter, I called 911.

A few rings before I heard something I’d never heard before, “You’ve reached the emergency 911 line.  All of our operators are busy right now, so please stay on the line and your call will be answered by the next available operator.”

Are you freakin’ kiddin’ me?  Hold for the next operator - on a 911 call?!!?!!?  I held, and every so often, I’d get the same pre-recorded message.  After a while, I hung up and tried again.  Same result.  Meanwhile, the lock cutters the diner had were only garden trimmers - the kind you’d use for nothing much stronger than a thin branch.

Back to square one.  I tried 911 for a third time.  Evidently, when you call 911, your number pops up on a screen.  So, when my cell phone number popped up for the third time, I finally got someone to answer.  I explained this wasn’t the typical 911 call and proceeded to tell about our mishap.  There was noise as the guys who was sweeping the floor at the diner came out with a pair of pliers, as Stratton noticed we could remove the bolts on the door, roll it back, get through and “re-lock” the door.  Due to the noise, I thought the operator I was speaking with said, “This is a national 911, let me put you through to a local 911.”  I mentioned I had tried that, to no avail.  She simply said, “Someone will answer this time.”  I guess it’s good to know people in high places.

After explaining once again all that had transpired, she said to me, “It sounds like a good story, but I don’t have the power to do what you need, let me put you in touch with the San Pedro police.  Wonderful!  Finally, we’re getting somewhere.  She explains the story to the officer (some type of protocol), then turns it over to me.

I’m a strong proponent of law enforcement.  Without it, even with the mistakes they occasionally make (once again, don’t we all), it would be a rather barbaric society without them.  The oficer says to me: “What can you add to this story?”

First I tell him that after we parked, I asked the people at the diner if it would be OK to park there.  The officer broke in, “Was that posted by the parking lot?”  I told him it would be foolish to have it posted; it was just an agreement between two establishments, trying to help one another out - and, I mentioned, the people at the diner told me of their reciprocal agreement with their neighbor - to the point that the diner owner advised me to cut the lock off.  I said if we did anything like that. I’d leave a note, there was a slot in the bait shop for mail, explaining what had been done and I wanted to let them know it wasn’t an act of vandalism, . . . “Yes, it would certainly be vandalism.  The people at the diner have no legal right to tell you to cut off the lock to someone else’s property!”

I simply said to the officer, somewhat facetiously, “We’re stuck here.  Do you expect me to get a room at a hotel and wait until tomorrow morning when the guy opens up?  I don’t even know if there is a hotel here.”

Incredibly enough, he replied, “There’s a hotel one block from you.  Just walk to the end of the street and you’ll see a Holiday Inn.”  Now, I faced a crossroads.  25 years ago, I probably would have made a wise crack and ended up making the situation worse.  But - and maybe it’s because I am constantly telling the kids in my math classes, that what math is really good for, use logical thinking.  “Math is problems; life is problems,” is one of my favorite lines.

So, I tried a different tactic.  “Officer, I wasn’t serious when I said that about waiting 17 hours and spending the night at an HI, when I’m a teacher in Fresno and have to get there tonight so I can be in school on time tomorrow morning.  The two guys are UC-I students and they have class.  In addition, my older son has to be at work in about an hour and my younger son is a high school student who has to attend school tomorrow.  You seem to be intent on showing me how much power you wield over me and that you’re just interested in winning the argument.  All I want to do is to see what’s the most reasonable thing we can do so that we can resolve this problem and no one is out money or embarrassed in any way.  You are the law.  I have no problem with that and, as a mater of fact, I admire what you do.  You have the ultimate power over me.  This is also an issue I have no debate with.

“While we’ve been talking, these guys have used the pliers to remove the bolts, slid the door open and are about to drive the vehicles out.  After they do, they will put the bolts back together.  Therefore, as it turned out, had I not called you, no one would have been the wiser, but I want to set an example for my sons that when you do something like this, take responsibility (as I’d hope the bait shop would do, by saying it would have been a thoughtful gesture to walk into the diner and ask anyone if their cars were parked in that back lot), and report it, admit it, leave a note with all the contact information on it.

Whne he heard everything was as it had been, he said, “I have no problem with what you did.  Make sure you contact him tomorrow.”

Things don’t have to be as hard as many of us make them.  It’s not always necessary to win the argument, as it is to get along and look out for each other - within the law.  Teddy Roosevelt hit it on the head:

“The most important single ingredient in the formula of success is  knowing how  to get along with people.”

The fact that Derrick Rose won the NBA Rookie-of-the-Year Award is hardly surprising.  After all, he was supposed to win it.  Every number one pick is the odds on favorite to win the award because: first of all, he’s the first player picked which usually means he’s the best player in the draft and secondly, he’s usually chosen by a bad team, i.e. a team that did not make the playoffs - so he’s more than likely to get as much playing time as any rookie would want during his first year in the “League.”

What separates Derrick Rose from some of the other, Number 1 picks who earned the ROY prize are other, intangible qualities.  After reading what he had to say about his mother, and subsequently, what she had to say about raising him (and her other sons), it’s easy to understand why he’s the way he is - humble, driven and competitive.  The two quotes I saw from his mom were, “I told my boys they were no better than anybody else and that everyone deserves to be treated with respect,” her interpretation of the Golden Rule.

Her other quote was, after he told her, as a young boy, that he was going to play in the NBA, she merely said, “Go after it!”  His brothers kept him on the same straight and narrow path, almost as if they had planned the entire ordeal.  What he received from his family was a marvelous lesson in character building, and it seems as though every scribe who writes something about Rose, while not always praising his play (especially if they have a favorite son), never criticize his character.

From a skills angle, he possesses all that can’t be taught and has an unquenchable thirst for developing what he what he needs to, but hasn’t quite yet, mastered.  This includes individual work, film study and leaning on teammates who have been through what he hasn’t yet experienced, e.g. older guys like Kirk Heinrich and Lindsey Hunter.

The initial wise move he made was choosing to live out in Deerfield, when it must have been tempting to live closer to downtown, where his “home boys” were and where he was comfortable, having grown up in downtown Chicago.  Another correct decision he made was, being a rookie, he was assigned “doughnut duty,” meaning he had to bring doughnuts for the team.  A couple of times he was late to practice and didn’t factor in “doughnut duty time” into his schedule.  After his teammates threatened to take it out of his per diem money, he decided it was time to “get back on track.”

Think about it.  It certainly couldn’t have been the money he was worried about, whether it was the money he was spending on doughnuts or the per diem dough, because compared to his salary and endorsement deals (sure to increase in number of and money for), they were insignificant.  I read it as he wanted to fit in, didn’t want people to think he needed special attention (meaning bending of rules and traditions to satisfy his ego) and he understood the hierarchy of the organization.  And absorbed all of this all very quickly, especially for someone who is not too much more than a year and a half out of high school!

Also astonishing was how quickly he picked up on the other hierarchical structure.  And that one is: who needs to take over at the end of a game.  So many times he put the team on his back and started taking people to the basket because his team was in desperate need of a score, but also because he realized no one on the floor could stop him from getting where he wanted to go.

Two parts of his press conference were extraordinary (you can see it by going to bulls.com).  First was his means of thanking all the right people: his mom and family, the sponsor (of the award), the organization, the coaches and finally, his veterans (note he didn’t simply call them his teammates, but his “vets”), demonstrating the respect that’s mandatory for a younger player in an established player’s league.  When he said he did, in fact, want to win the ROY award, but not only did not talk about it (showing his ego was in check), but saying that he didn’t care (displaying wisdom); then, after the presentation of the award, admitting to the above (an act of honesty) put him in a class of being a young man who’s personal maturity matches that of his athletic skill.  Two other examples were the answers he gave to Chicago’s legendary sportswriter, Sam Smith, who first asked him, “What one thing stood out as the greatest accomplishment of the year?”  Rose’s reply was the four point play that occurred when the Clippers’ Eric Gordon, who was picked in the top five for this award, fouled Ben Gordon as BG attempted a three at the buzzer of a game in which the Clippers were ahead by four at the time.”  (The Bulls eventually won it in OT).

“How about the worst moment?” Sam followed with.  Once again, the answer was surprising, and probably disappointing for someone looking for a chink in his armor: “After we lost five in a row.”

Neither answer had anything to do with him only, a not unheard of remark other athletes make, especially when scoring 36 points and tying Kareem’s record for most points scored by a rookie in his first playoff game is a possible answer. 

When a point guard (the leadership position on a team, whether the player embraces it or not) has that type of mental/physical/emotional game, the franchise has a cornerstone upon which to build.  When he’s the age of a Derrick Rose, the future looks as bright as, dare I say in the Bulls’ case, its (rather recent) past?

Conceit’s a trait Derrick Rose does not seem to have an inch of, which all of us non-participants appreciate because as my late friend and mentor, John Savage, was fond of saying:

“Conceit is the only disease that gets everyone sick except the one who has it.”

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In this area of the country (Central California), most of the high school basketball coaches employ the full court press as their main defensive - and offensive - weapon.  Several of these coaches are extremely successful.  Naturally, due to the balanced outcomes of all games, i.e. for every win, there’s a loss, others do not realize a similar abundance of success. 

When I got back to the high school level (30 years after my first venture into scholastic hoops), maybe because I’m a math teacher and logical thinking is how I approach most problems I face, I explained to the guys I was coaching that, realistically, the press should not work.  I knew I was in for a tough go of it due to the fact that 1) the kids on the team had been facing it since they were in the 4th grade (the first year of truly organized ball) and getting waxed every game, year after year, and 2) many of the parents were suggesting to me that we use it.

One of my teaching points was that a full court press shouldn’t work.   If I asked the same five guys, especially on the first team I coached, who were having so much difficulty guarding the other team within the three point arc (19′9″), did they think they could handle guarding them over the entire 94′?  It doesn’t make any sense at all that five kids who struggle with keeping people in front of them, “bumping cutters” as they made their way from one side of the floor to the other and blocking out, could expand the area they were responsible for by more than three times - and anticipate a winning season.

When we had to face a press, I mentioned that a mental, more than physical, toughness was the better trait to have.  What bothered me most was the look of sheer, unadulterated panic on the faces of the guys handling the ball.  I reminded them over and over that the defenders were going to trap you, i.e. they were not allowed to punch you or hit you - all they could do was frantically wave around their hands and yell like a wildman, causing a FALSE sense of panic!  Instead of thinking, “let’s see, I’m really in no physical danger” that they should have thinking, “huh, all they can do is wave around and holler, and two of them are on me, so one of our players has to be open, . . . there he is - way up the floor.  Fire the ball to him so he can make the easy, open layup.”  

Yet, we’d keep turning the ball over.  OK, Mr. Logic, what’s the deal?  During a Biddy Bears session one Saturday morning, it all hit me like a ton of bricks.  It was the same scenario for each and every one of these kids: sure, there is always a teammate open, but he’s far down the floor, out of range for the average 10-year old’s passing ability.  So, they would lose and lose big.  Plus, they kept getting humiliated - and it would follow them year after year until they became the fleas I’d heard about so many times in inspirational cassettes.  Unlike the fleas, they were reminded, by their “supportive” parents, how effective the press was against us, putting that doubt in the player’s head, we’ve seen this before, “as difficult as it is, try not to let it happen again, . . . sweetheart.”

The experiment was to take a bunch of fleas who are jumping all over each other and put them in a jar, covering the top (but arranging it so they could have air).  The results were that, as soon as the fleas got inside the jar, they started to jump out.  Only they would fly up and bump their heads on the top of the jar.  After observing them for a while, it was quite noticeable that the fleas simply quit jumping.  They must have deemed the task impossible. 

Next move: take off the top of the jar.  Result: most people conducting the experiments were astonished to see that the same fleas who were bumping their heads (who couldn’t get out of the jar), simply give up, i.e. they must have felt that jumping out was truly impossible, so what was the use? 

The identical result occurred with teams playing against the press.  These kids had been used to losing and turning the ball over when pressed that never, in a zillion years, did they check to see if someone had taken the lid off the jar i.e., that they had gotten stronger and more mature throughout the years and that three-quarter court pass they didn’t throw because they didn’t have the strength nor the confidence to throw it, was now quite available to them in their new and bigger bodies. 

Not quite, but almost, like the NBA players.  A dribbler in the highest league in the world see a double team and immediately do two things: back dribble to buy more time vs. the trap and keep surveying the entire floor to find out who was open.  Upon utilizing these two “new” moves, turnovers were avoided and positive plays started to exceed the negative.  

Once something like this was accomplished, it was apparent to everyone that it would work.  All they needed to do was to overcome their early childhood fears.  From the book, The Aladdin Factor, we learn: 

“Fear only sticks around if you hang onto it.”

So much for my blog saying the Lake Show would destroy the Jazz.  Like Kenny “The Jet” Smith said, “It was just a replay of Game 1.”  Maybe the Lakers are bored - or just can’t wait for the Cavs, because it certainly doesn’t look like anybody is going to come close to either of them.  So now I’m back with another prediction.  If this doesn’t come true, you can start calling me “the SI Cover Jinx.”  (Actually, I’d rather enjoy being referred to as the SI Cover Jinx, since it’s that time of year when teachers tend to get called a lot worse things when grades for the kids who have been warned about not working hard enough, not paying attention, not getting extra help in the form of math labs or tutoring and not putting in enough (any) study time, receive their final grades - and summer plans may have to be disrupted).

As I mentioned in my blog yesterday, my main man from Fresno, Dave Severns, is now with the Chicago Bulls in the capacity of assistant coach for player development.  One day, as the season was winding down, I brought up the fact of how great it would be if they could make the playoffs.  The playoffs!  For Sev, it meant that a year removed from winning the conference and playing for the Valley championship in girls’ badminton at Roosevelt HS, he’d be part of an NBA team in the PLAYOFFS, best known for 1) not having to send a rep for the draft lottery ping pong ball fiasco, 2) getting a sweet (and desperately needed) bonus check (and in the NBA, it’s for more than $100) which members of all the teams and staffs get if they make it out of the draft lottery and 3) being able to listen to the old interview cuts of Jim Mora without thinking, “Damn, we coulda been there.”  It’s also known for incredibly, beyond belief, intense basketball action, displayed by the best athletes in the world (see yesterday’s blog for further explanation).

Shortly after that call (and the subsequent winning streak the Bulls would go on), he told me how they could be the 7 seed.  I said, being a math guy, “the numbers say you could be as high as 6″, to which he replied, “Maybe, but getting 7th would be fantastic.”

“Why aren’t you fired up that you guys could move up to number 6?” I asked him, not understanding his reaction had nothing to do with just “getting versus not getting in.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” he said, “I’d love for us to be the 6th seed.  But getting to 7th means . . . we don’t have to go to Cleveland for the first round.”

Therein lies what many, if not everyone in the East feels.  As long as we don’t have to go to Cleveland.  And, for once, it has nothing to do with bashing the city.  OK, so they didn’t tie the home court regular season record of 40-1 due to Coach-of-the-Year Mike Brown (wisely) resting his best guys (meaning LeBron James and . . . some other good players), but what they’ve done to the Detroit Pistons (granted, an old team whose trade for Allen Iverson didn’t turn out how they hoped it would . . . but how everyone else who has ever seen a basketball game, including the Saturday morning 5-year old kind, knew it would).  Remember the quote from a few blogs ago, “The greatest indicator of future behavior is past performance“?  The trade of AI for Chauncey Billups is a living example of it.  So, as Dave had expected, whoever was going to Cleveland was going to leave there with their feelings hurt - and probably not have to worry about going back until next year.

The Cavs’ counterparts on the other side, LA, has played down/toyed with/virtually ignored their opponent, the Utah Jazz.  The Jazz has a few big-time NBA players, but with Mehmet Okur out (give them something to use as a crutch so they don’t have to admit to complete and utter hopelessness), they work like the devil and come close, but in the end, it’s as inevitable as Lucy vs. Chuck - with the Jazz playing the ignominious role of CB (and, Kobe Bryant masquerading as Lucy).

The way all the other series are going, I just don’t see any other (barring something catastrophic happening) scenario but an LA-Cleveland finals.  That doesn’t mean there won’t be some entertaining, and certainly exciting, hoops for your viewing pleasure (if you enjoy basketball at its finest).  Thusfar, watching the other games (naturally, I’m biased, but, especially the first two games of the Chicago-Boston series) has been phenomenal, independent of which team you’re pulling for.  That series shows an, up ’til now, non-existent fact: Kevin Garnett might not be the Defensive Player of the Year and he might not be the MVP, but he certainly is the Defensive MVP of any league.

As stated, I’m a Bulls fan (and have been ever since this past summer), but if anybody in the world thinks the Windy City guys would be consistently on top the side of 100 (like they have been for the first two games), if KG was on the floor, there’s this great timeshare I have in Pigeon Forge, TN I’d love to talk to you about taking off my hands - for cheap!

While Boston, Utah and, of course, San Antonio and even Philadelphia, have been hit with untimely injuries, the Lakers are just now getting back Andrew Bynum, who is getting better as he gains more experience and gaining confidence because he might just be too young to realize he’s having it a little more easily than guys like him on other teams because they have to focus on the other Lakers so much.  Bynum gets, more or less, a free pass to exhibit his array of skills and use his height and length quite efectively.

But if you think the Lakers or the Cavs feel bad for the teams with the injured guys (or anyone else, for that matter), you might heed a bit of advice one of my high school coaches gave me after I had a bad practice and was hanging my head:

“If you’re looking for sympathy, you can find it in the dictionary - between shit and syphilis.”  

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Often when someone is in the midst of an experience, what happens takes on greater significance than it would have had the person waited a year or so before passing judgment. 

My close friend, Dave Severns, currently the assistant coach for player development with the Chicago Bulls (see 11/4/08 blog for some outstanding and inspirational information on “Sev”) and I agree on most issues, even if one of us is more passionate about an activity than the other.  Each of us can see the importance and relevance of the other’s enjoyment in pursuing whichever area of interest it happens to be, even though the other chooses not to be as active.

One point of contention we’ve discussed over the years is which is more exciting and fun to watch: college basketball or the NBA.  Since I worked on nine Division I basketball staffs over a 30-year period (1972-2002), 16 of those seasons culminating in postseason (NCAA or NIT) play, I’m obviously partial to the college game.  In addition, I saw - up close - some pretty intense rivalries.  I’m not only referring to Tennessee-Kentucky and USC-UCLA, but to Western Carolina-Appalachian State (the top of the mountain, ASU, vs. the bottom of the valley, WCU) and Toledo (city life) vs. Bowling Green (country living) - and only 30 minutes apart.  These people take everything seriously when it comes to competing against the other.

I do enjoy the NBA, but like most people, not until the playoffs get started.  The difference to me is the loyalty of the fan bases of the teams comprising the college game against the fan base of an NBA team.  What’s of vital importance in the college game is the school, i.e. it’s there, no threat of ever moving to another city.  How many of the fans of the Seattle Sonics do you think are staunch Oklahoma City Thunder supporters?  For that matter, do you really believe there are old timers living in Minneapolis living and dying with the Lakers (their former home, albeit quite some time ago)?  You really didn’t think a team from LA would select the nickname “Lakers,” did you?  Isn’t it MInnesota’s license plate read, Land of 10,000 Lakes?  Think it was a coincidence.  Come to think of it, there’s a heck of a lot more jazz in New Orleans than Utah.  Do you think . . . ?

In college, it’s the fight song, knowing the hometowns of the squad members as well as the likes and dislikes of the 12th man (because he’s in your English Lit class).  Fans feel a true bond with their team.  They’re eventually going to have the same degree as these megastars (well, around 55% of them, anyway, according to the recent studies I’ve seen).

Dave’s counter is professional basketball is a sport featuring the greatest athletes in the world.  A point of clarification: the winner of the Olympic decathalon has generally ben  recognized as “the world’s greatest athlete” and neither Dave nor I are about to dispute that.  What he’s referring to is that NBA players have the greatest athletic ability, e.g. running, jumping, throwing, quickness, shooting, etc. of any other team sport -anywhere.  I’m not sure there’s much of a debate on that point, but, in this day and age, people will debate, even sue if there’s a quick buck to be made, on anything.

His main point is that, watching any given game, you might, in all likelihood, see something you’ve never witnessed before.  He has a point.  Many, many years ago, the statistics regarding basketball players were: 720,000 high school players; 18,000 college players and, now, 450 NBA players (30 teams times 12 active and 3 non-active players on each club).  Those stats have drastically changed, with influx of foreign players who never went to college in the States.  No question NBA guys are the cream of the basketball crop.  Case in point: last night’s game between Chicago and Boston.  Ray Allen and Ben Gordon put on a pressure, clutch shooting clinic.  Sure, so did Steph Curry last year, but imagine a game where there was a Steph on each team.

Now, Sev has a new point in this argument.  The first two playoff games in Boston, between the Celtics and his new employer, have been down to the wire thrillers, the Bulls taking the first in OT and the Celts evening the series on a Ray Allen jumper with two seconds left.  The report I got from my man, Sev, after the first playoff game he actually saw live, was that it was the most intense game he’d ever been to.  This from a guy who’s spent a great many hours at basketball games.

“It wasn’t just the intensity of the teams, it was the intensity of the focus of the players”  (and coaches - he regards head coach Vinny Del Negro as a great guy, brilliant mind, quick wit and competitive, but he said even ‘V’ was more “lasered” than usual), the intensity of the crowd, the intensity of the refs!  Every possession was like it was the last one of the game!  Everything mattered.”  The excitement in his voice was like the kind your kid had after his first trip to DisneyLand (or his first haunted house, for those of you who were friends of Bernie Madoff). 

I saw last night’s game and, even as a TV viewer, I could actually feel all that come right through the broadcast - all the way down to Kevin Garnett (in street clothes and allegedly out for the entire playoffs), dropping “F” bombs in the direction of the visitor’s bench after Allen’s three to win it.  It was incredible to watch - I can only imagine what it was like to have a vested interest in who wins (the guys you work - and sweat - with on a daily basis), against the defending World Champs, and watching it one row behind where these gladiators sit - when they’re not in battle.

And to think, it’s only the first round!  He might be winning me over, so I have to control myself and reserve judgment until next fall when I can be of a more sound mind (I’ve pretty much given up on the body half of that equation).  But when I finally decide on college vs. pro, I have to keep in mind that line (which has been so overused, it’s been made into a poster):

“Your mind is like a parachute.  It works better when it’s open.”

NBA Playoff basketball is so great because you know you’ll see something you can’t always depend on during the regular season - all out effort (although what the Hornets did in Denver might refute that statement).

In these blogs, I try to let the reader come to his or her conclusion based on what I’ve posted.  Today, I’m deviating from that approach, only because I am so certain of what will happen in Game 2 of the LA-Utah series, I’m putting it into blogsphere for all to see.  Should I be way off base, then I open myself up for embarrassment and mockery on a world-wide level.  Of course, if it ever got to that point, I can always edit my remarks, even delete the blog, or claim I was misquoted (in my own blog - similar to Charles Barkley saying he was misquoted in his autobiography). 

Enough of all that.  Let’s get on with the prediction.  The Lakers will absolutely destroy the Jazz.  Here’s why: In Game One, no matter what the Jazz did, the Lakers answered.  “The Jazz just won’t go away!”  Announcers like to use that old lifeline (mainly because if a team did go away, the onus would be on the announcers to make a game with only one team in it sound interesting enough that people wouldn’t turn their TV’s off - and even with as much ego that often flows out of that group - and admittedly, I used to be one - nobody, with one or two exceptions, feels up to that task).

In Game One from the Staples Center, the Lakers weren’t ever worried about whether the Jazz would stay or go.  The Lakers didn’t even know the Jazz were there!  The game went as the Lakers had planned, i.e. get a lead and keep scoring. 

With Mehmet Okur out for the Jazz, the visitors were limited at both ends of the floor. First of all, Okur, although he’s a giant, may possibly be the best “pick-and-pop” man in the league - ever - (yeah, including Sabonis).  The Jazz’s big fella can really stroke it - and from deep.  But, if you listened to Jazz coach Jerry Sloan, he bemoaned Okur’s absence at the defensive end, because of his size versus the size of the Laker big men, meaning Utah would have to first sub for Okur and then, sub for Okur’s sub, sending the Jazz to places they’d hoped they’d never have to go - especially against a team as good as the prohibitive favorites to win it all.

The Jazz played as hard as they could and quite often, make big shots to keep the game relatively close.  It’s just that when they would make a big bucket, and they really needed a stop, they dug down . . . and the Lakers, not only would score, but make it look easy doing so.  In that same postgame interview, Sloan mentioned they weren’t as mean a team as he’d like, that they were still working on that aspect of their identity (if anyone’s old enough to remember Jerry Sloan, his version of “mean” probably differs from most people’s, including the members of his current squad).  Since we’re in the playoffs, it’s fairly safe to assume that what Sloan was referring to was next year’s version of the Utah Jazz, since if you’re not mean enough now, choosing to become so, in a best-of-seven series against the number one seed, is probably not a good starting point.

The Jazz can’t play much better on offense and, because of the Lakers’ pure talent (and the abundance of it), they can’t do much to stop the Purple and Gold offense (short of Sloan going back in a time machine and strapping it on himself - another thing guys don’t do anymore thanks to compression shorts), so it would seem like they’re doomed.  They’re not on the road where the hotel can make a “mistake” and the entire team come down with food poisoning prior to tipoff, so unless a case of the flu wipes out the top seven, make it eight guys from LA, there exists no chance for the guys from Salt Lake. 

Phil Jackson probably thought his club was flirting with disaster a little too much because he’s seen crazy things happen in all the time he’s been in the game, so he might remind his guys to step on it and focus at both ends, so the press conference is much more brief, allowing Jeannie and him to leave a little earlier for their nice, leisurely dinner somewhere on the marina.

I’m not sure whether even Jerry Sloan would want to be on a team with the task facing his squad, but I know he subscribes to the Frederick Douglass theory when faced with such tasks:

“If there is no struggle, there is no progress . . . power concedes nothing without a demand.  It never did and it never will.”

The NBA concludes its first day of Round One of its playoff games today.  At today comes to an end, every one of the best-of-seven series will be 1-0, most in favor of the home team (which is the reason the teams play so hard - at least most of the time) during the regular season.  However, during Day One of the 2009 version of the NBA Playoffs, the unthinkable happened - three of the games were won by the road team.

How could this happen?  All year, clubs go at it, competing all across the country in a grueling 82-game schedule, nearly all of them attempting to aid their postseason chances on advancing to the next round.  For some, (the Lakers, Celts and Cavs, for example, this year), it’s about vying for the all-important “home court edge throughout the playoffs” a tremendous advantage to the host squad. 

We’ve all heard the positives for it: 1) the players don’t have to travel - great news for most because after 41 road games (not including the preseason contests), nobody, at least nobody I know, has a desire for more travel; 2) the players get to sleep in their own beds (at least, that’s what the assumption is); 3) they get to eat at their favorite places, and finally, and usually most important of all, 4) they get to spend some quality time with their family - especially crucial for the guys who got married shortly after college and have young kids.  The downside deals with all the ticket requests from close friends and relatives - and not-so-close ones, but people from the past who “happened to be passing through and noticed you were playing tomorrow” (or “in a few hours”) or someone who “hate(s) to bother you, but this friend of mine has a son he’s reconciling with and the _____(your team’s name here) are his boy’s favorite team/I’m coming back to see my ______(best friend, closest relative, biggest client)/it’s always has been my dad’s goal, before he dies, to watch an NBA playoff game (”Oh, did I tell you he has ______)?” 

Many of the top players, i.e. the ones who will be playing the most and have the money to do it, hire outside agencies or delegate to trusted relatives the duty of handling all ticket requests for home games - especially the closer it gets to game time, so they can totally focus on the task at hand.

Let’s look at Day One.  It started off with the #7 seeded Bulls upsetting #2 seed Boston in Beantown, 105-103 in OT.  Are you kidding me?  The Bulls beat the Celtics?  Not so surprising, considering The Big Ticket, aka Kevin Garnett is out, and may be for the entire playoffs (which may end sooner than the defending champs ever dreamed because of today’s result).  Regardless of whether the Celts are shell-shocked at letting one slip away (the losing team always believes a play here and another there determine playoff games - and they’re usually right)!  That certainly was the case in this matchup.

KG’s absence leaves Boston without a major scoring threat as well as one who draws a great deal of attention, so the shots his teammates get are all just a bit to quite considerably tougher.  That could have been a major factor in Ray Allen’s shooting 1-12 from the floor in the opener.  On the defensive end, well, Garnett is the best defender in the NBA.  All this means is that Boston, sans KG, is not the same team that won 62 games and got a #2 seed - and now, are looking beatable.

Give credit where it’s due, though, because Chicago, and its fans, were so thrilled with the way they ended the season and really looked to be on an uptick heading into the playoffs.  Even with all that, it took a rookie, a guy who was a high school senior just two years ago, to light up the entire city of Boston, by scoring 36 points (tying Kareem’s record for most points scored by a player in his playoff debut).  In addition, he had $1.10 in assists (11 dimes) and was 12-12 from the FT line. 

A player of uncommon quiet confidence, Rose, at halftime, was overheard to say he was going out to “break Rondo’s will.”  He then proceeded to score on the first five possessions of the second half.  Similar to a dog coming upon another, a stranger, and “marking his territory,” signifying “I own this space” (and along with it, I own you).  This attitude is even more important in the playoffs where a player is going up against the same team game after game, for a possible seven games.  The Blazers crowd was geeked when the game began but the Bulls seemed to take rip their hearts right out - from the beginning of the contest.

In San Antonio, the story line dealt with one guy who everybody knew who didn’t play and another who few knew, who did.  Manu Ginobli, out for the playoffs, is as important to the Spurs as KG is to the Celts.  At the end of every shot clock or, more importantly, every game, it becomes “give it to Manu and let him create something good” - a responsibility in which he seldoms disappoints.  Like Garnett does for Allen, what Ginobli brings to the Spurs makes Tony Parker’s job that much easier.  

Meanwhile, the Mavericks held a coming out party for a relatively unknown backup point guard, a move which was against all odds going into the game, because the guy he’s backing up is Jason Kidd, voted one of the 50 greatest NBA players of all-time.  Coach Rick Carlisle turned to J.J. Berea to give Kidd a break in yesterday’s contest against the Spurs and left him there. Berea made his presence felt in a big way by guarding Tony Parker a heck of a lot better than Parker did him.  The 6-0 guard (maybe) had 13 points, seven of which came in the fourth quarter.

Finally, everyone needs to do something nice for Blazers center, Joel Pryzbilla, who went into yesterday’s home playoff opener against Houston thinking he was guarding a guy named Yao and came away thinking it must have been misspelled.  It was more like “Yeow!” as the Rockets’ 7′6″ center torched Pryz and his Portland teammates for 24 first half points (without missing a shot).  Sources, who apparently don’t know Jeff Van Gundy very well, were saying that the reason JVG predicted, not only a win for the Rockets but a blowout - in Portland - was because he’s bitter that Rick Adelman, his successor, is having more success in Houston than he did (which is arguable) and Adleman has had to face the same issues (injuries to Tracy McGrady - remember him? - and Yeow Yao Ming).  Van Gundy happens to be one of the brightest, most analytical commentators who, as much as anyone I know, lives in the moment.  His time at Houston, at New York, all the way back to his high school coaching days in Upstate New York and the graduate assistantship he spent with Rick Pitino at Providence are memories, some good, others not so - at each location, just as his current job (in which he also excels) has brought him.

The success achieved by Rose, Berea and Yao in their respective Game One’s on the road was exactly as Muhammad Ali simply said a long time ago:

“It’s a lack of faith that makes people afraid to meet challenges and I always believed in myself.”

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