Greatness Achieved

June 21, 2012 will go down in NBA history as the night the King finally got his ring, and his crown. LeBron James posted a 26pt-13asst-11reb triple double to stamp out the youthful OKC Thunder and win his first NBA title, thus completing the most anticipated, hyped, scrutinized, and hated-on rise to greatness in NBA history. To his legion of doubters, Lebron has justifiably earned the right to tell them "what can you say now?" The kid from Akron did what NBA fans feverishly demanded he do for the better part of 10 years- let his game do the talking while he won the ultimate prize. LBJ dominated the Finals, the playoffs, and the season like few players have ever done before. If you're a LeBron and Heat hater, which a large portion of the public is, it can be hard to put aside your team allegiances and personal gripes. But by removing ourselves from our coveted social media opinions for just a moment, we can appreciate LeBron James, the basketball player and the man, and be happy for him. Imagine the burden of a nations's collective expectations thrust upon you since age 16. Imagine millions upon millions of people ritualistically rooting for you to fail. Imagine being the best player in the world, and over 50% of the public views you as a choker, traitor, and villain. In the face of this pressure, LeBron put on a display of consistent, all-around, brilliance throughout these playoffs that maybe only 3 or 4 other players have achieved before. Even the most hardened LeBron detractor would admit (maybe a few beers deep) that it's hard not to feel a little bit of tangible joy for The Chosen One.

LeBron rediscovers what makes him LeBron

 I will not even attempt to deny at that over the past two years I been immersed in the never ending tsunami of LeBron hate. It is beyond well documented that since the two most egregious Public Relations...decisions, in the history of athlete management, LeBron has become perhaps the most polarizing basketball player ever, and certainly the symbol of the social media era of sports coverage. I hated him for not staying in Cleveland and accepting the burden of his hardened hometown's 38 year-old title drought. I hated him for not opting for New York and the chance at an unseen level of basketball immortality. I hated him for his arrogance, his hubris, and his unthinkable shrink-job in last year's finals. 

But in these Finals, LeBron answered all the old doubts with a refocused, under-control, nearly flawless game. Playing like some mad scientists' splice of Scottie Pippen, Shawn Kemp, and Magic Johnson, LeBron proved to be unstoppable in the post, unflappable on defense, and unparalleled with his passing and decision making. Not only did LeBron find his 3-point shooters off the double time and time again in these Finals to devastating effect, each pass was delivered in perfect position for Battier/Chalmers/Miller to load and launch in rhythm. It didn't matter if it was a cross court pass fading towards the wrong side of the court or a one handed whip off penetration. But the unreal passing ability has always been there. More notable was the fact that LeBron finally got his ass in the paint. He dominated the offensive boards, showed a patient and surgical low post game, and unleashed a barrage of twisting, powerful finishes over the Thunder Bigs. While LeBron has often been asked to assume point guard duties and play a perimeter-oriented game in the past, the 2012 Finals showed that, at his best, The King's domain is really the paint (18 ppg in the "dungeon" during the series). Throw in his ferocious, hounding defense on KD, fast-break killing shot-blocking ability and control of the defensive glass, it was perhaps the most complete domination in Finals history. LeBron was smart, he was intense, he put up insane numbers (29-10-7), he was a leader, and he was clutch. Plainly: LeBron was perfect.

 But the true revelation was not LeBron's game. It was that with his performance, he may have finally provided the alpha-dog counterpoint to the blueprint that Michael Jordan and Kobe Bryant mapped out for leading a team to the title. You know, the prevailing view that you have to be be on a plateau above your teammates, you have to possess a maniacal quest for dominance, and you have to hate. As we waited for LeBron to become the next Jordan, the next Kobe, lamenting (and loving) the fact that he would never have the same makeup as the preeminent champions who came before him, we never stopped to think that maybe LeBron would be the one to break the mold. After accepting his Finals MVP, LeBron readily admitted that since The Decision, he had lost what made him, him.

                                          

 "Last year, I played the game with a lot of hate, and that's not how I play, I play the game with a lot of love."

Jordan and Kobe (post-Shaq) spent their careers playing the older brother to their teammates. They were supportive and complimentary when their teammates got the job done, but if you crossed them, made the wrong move, or didn't come through when it counts, it's your ass getting thrown under the bus, or your face getting punched in. Maybe LeBron wasn't meant to play that role. Maybe he was meant to be the benevolent one- the big kid who plays the game with joy, compassion, heart, and love. Not the unforgiving older brother, but rather the proud daddy of his basketball family.

In the past, LeBron has been justifiably defiant in the face of his critics and detractors. But something happened after that Finals collapse to the Mavericks last year. He was hurt by a type of failure and adversity that he had never experienced before. LeBron retreated into his house and relived his excruciating performances, game by game. In doing so, The King was confronted with an inconvenient truth- he is fallible. But as the old cliche goes, you must be broken down before you can be built back up. Months later, after a summer in the gym and a post-up apprenticeship under Hakeem Olajuwon, LeBron re-emerged as the man and player we all hoped he would be for so long. He was solely dedicated to winning, as humble as someone of his prodigious gifts could be, and genuine and upfront about his past failings. He decided he would be himself, only better.

When I saw him curl that trophy into his arms like a proud new father on Thursday night, I finally realized it. Wow, I am truly happy for LeBron James. Above all else, what we asked of LeBron was greatness. With the ring on hand and more to come, The King has finally earned that distinction. #6 could have easily had his Gladiator moment on Thursday night, spewing the hate right back into our collective grill. But King James, of course, took the high road. He basked in the moment and allowed himself to be truly, utterly, happy.

For now, the pop-culture psychologists and arm-chair quarterbacks are seemingly out of ammunition. The prevailing conversation about LeBron has changed. The question will no longer be "why can't he win it?" but rather, "how far can he go?" At 27 years old, The King is now firmly entrenched in his prime and the Jordan projections are already flowing. The freakish physical gifts are not going away, and LeBron now has the intangible understanding of what he needs to do on the court and how he needs to carry himself off of it for his team to win it all. Whether he wins two, three, or six titles, only time will tell. In Durant, LBJ has a rival who could possible keep him from "Jordan territory." But if we have learned anything, LeBron's legacy will not be "the next Michael Jordan." He will not be the next Kobe, Larry Bird, or Magic Johnson either. He is LeBron James, and for now, you can't call him anything other than great.

Mike Breen and NBA officiating: Unholy White-Wash

 Sometimes I feel like I'm living in the Twilight zone: Mike Breen is the preeminent play-by-play man in professional basketball, and it seems that virtually the entire American public has yet to realize that he is the most trenchant, deplorable announcer in the game. Does no one realize that he literally has only two calls? That, at best, he is nothing more than a technically efficient corporate drone for the morally bankrupt conglomerate known as Disney/ESPN/ABC? Somehow we been hypnotized into accepting this guy as not only the full-time play-by-play announcer of the fucking Knicks, but also the top play-by-play man for every single marquee NBA game not broadcast on TNT. Over the course of any given game 75% of all made baskets will inevitably be branded with Mike's trademark "puts it in!" call: Carmelo clutch pull-up game winning contested trey- PUTS IT IN! Savage Blake Griffin tomahawk over 3 defenders- PUTS IT IN! 27 foot Kevin Durant stepback- PUTS IT IN! Seriously Breen, find a less descriptive phrase for absurd freaks-of-nature getting buckets in the most impossible ways. Then, on the other hand, we have BANG! Oh no, don't worry, it's ok that you refer to every single massive 3-pointer with a one-syllable onomatopoeia previously reserved for Batman Comics, and use the exact same robotic inflection on every single call. It's also a known fact that Breen is the #1 doting fan-boy for the Heat and Knicks, ritualistically celebrating every big play by soiling his shorts and belting out the signature "Ho, HOOO! (insert Lebron/Wade/Carmelo here) Put's it in!!" Jesus, Breen stop talking so goddamn hard. I thought it was beneficial to have a soulful, deep voice in this racket, not sound like a squawking parrot that makes you want to take 4 Tylenol's to the head after every game.

Not to mention the fact that Mikey B becomes a trembling little puppet whenever the highly relevant, ongoing theme of corruption and failure amongst NBA officiating (esp. post-Donaghy) and their terrible Technical and flagrant policy comes up. Fact: The NBA stifles intensity and emotion more than any major sport- You can't even look at a dude after dunking on him anymore, let alone scream in his face or openly taunt him. In the NHL, squaring up for a beatdown is not only allowed, it's encouraged. NFL players mercilessly talk shit to opponents and celebrate vicious sacks and tackles with choreographed decapitation rituals. And guess what? It's a big part of the reason why those sports are so popular. Sometimes this shit ain't for the weak of heart. Athletes wouldn't be paid so lucratively if they didn't have to put their body on the line and go to war every game. The NFL is the undisputed king of sports in America because the game is more thrilling, entertaining, and emotionally provocative when you can play at a jacked-up, borderline psychopathic level. Athletes play harder when they can express themselves and let it all hang out. That's never been a secret. The NBA isn't truly fueled by dangerous intensity quite like the NFL, but there was a tangible war-like mentality during the Golden Age of the 80's and early 90's.

Tonight's main event- the one and only Joey Crawford!

 Little semi non-sequitor (coincidentally what Breen calls his penis): Magic, Jordan, and Bird are the three players placed on modern basketball's Mount Rushmore. They ushered in the NBA's Golden Era and ran a triumvirate of NBA dominance by winning a combined 14 titles over 20 years (16 if you count Isaiah and his back-to-back Bad Boys squad). That trio talked more shit, were more ruthless, taunted and fought with more opponents, and played with more savage competitiveness BY FAR than any of this generation's top players, aside from KG, Kobe, and maybe Chris Paul. (see NBA TV's awesome Dream Team Documentary for proof). Today's rules, evolving since the PR shitstorm known as the Malice at The Palace, are ostensibly designed to stop players from brawling, but what really results is a stifling of passion, intensity, emotion, and rivalries in today's buddy-buddy NBA.

Shame on you for even asking me that question, Sir.

 So. When Jeff Van Gundy, who unlike our dear little Breensy boy actually knows basketball, will deride the officials for shitty, sensitive Technicals, pace-killing flops, or over-officiating for the benefit of superstars, Breen inevitably rushes to the defense of his overlord, David Stern (And whatever ABC executive pulls his strings), and reverts back to being  the trembling company fuck he truly is. Haha, now c'mon Jeff, by the letter of the law, that was a foul! Or C'mon now, Jeff. You don't know what he might of said to him there to earn that technical! (Nervous laughter) Now Let's go to the NBA Broadcast Big Board! Hey Breen, Van Gundy's right- it doesn't matter what he said. This is basketball, not hopscotch. Grow up, white-bread. Van Gundy's insight and knowledge is great, but since Mark Jackson left the ABC announce team to coach the Warriors, you have to admit that team Q-tip has become the whiniest, whitest, least athletic announcing combo in the game. I would take the the Dick Stockton/CWebb team or Marv/Reggie/Kerr all day every day over MBJVG. Without Jackson's player's perspective, the two now have carte blanche to whine, bicker, crack lame-ass jokes, and fail to do justice to huge moments. I never thought I'd miss Mr. "mama there goes that man!" this freaking much.

Give me somebody who actually has a creative way with words and is not a one-dimensional tool. Give me someone who can capture the emotion and excitement of an NBA game, and knows when to defer to those who are actually there to provide opinion. Give me someone with catch phrases that would make Rondey Dangerfield blush. Someone with the fire of the game burning within them and a thundering voice that brings Adam Morrison to tears. Give me someone that gets buckets, that's right- get us Gus Johnson! Bring the passion of the NCAA tournament to the spectacle of the NBA finals. (Sidenote: It is perhaps the biggest travesty in sports history that Gus has been dropped from CBS, taken off the tournament and NFL games and relegated to Big-12 football on FX) Of course, Gus is a pipe-dream. The NBA on ABC would never have the balls to let someone with Gus' spontaneity and no-holds-barred approach take the reigns for a huge playoff game. But, the NBA playoffs DO desperately need to be announced by someone who can actually create a unique, lasting call, and add some freaking mystique to a legendary contest played by the titans of the game.

Aw, Hell yeah!!

 In his quest to curry casual fan appeal, and eliminate the "basketball players are thugs!" narrative, Stern is forgetting his core audience- people who understand the game as it should be played. Despite the black-eye of the lockout, ratings and fan interest are up, and the league is clearly headed in the right direction. The paradigm is shifting. The rawness and competitive fire are on the return- you can feel it. And now is the time to capitalize. There are hungry, young superstars playing the game the right way and placing their chance at greatness above all else, exactly like we ask them to. The time has come to embrace a return to the REAL in all things NBA. The time has come to put Breen on ice.

Game of Thrones: NBA Finals Tale of the Tape

At the conclusion of the 2012 finals, there will be a coronation: either LeBron James will finally secure his first ring, cementing his status as the world's best and forcing the haters to munch copious amounts of crow, or Kevin Durant and the Thunder will claim the title, Durant will be considered the league's alpha dog, and we will be subjected to endless platitudes from Skip Bayless and Stephen A. Smith on why KD has a shot to be the best player of all time. Also on the line: a second ring for Wade, a sixth ring for Fisher, Kendrick Perkins' chance to be the starting center for two separate title teams, the Heat's reputation as floppers, primadonnas, and choke artists, and the word "champion" being associated with Chris Bosh more closely than dinosaur, ostrich, emo, third banana, and troll. Not to mention which team will get the upper footing on NBA supremacy for the next five years. So who will take it down? Let's see who has the advantage in eight key categories:

PG: Russell Westbrook vs. Mario Chalmers

 Chalmers is a nice player, and has proven time and again that he has the requisite stones to take, and make, big shots. The Heat PG definitely plays with a considerable chip on his shoulder- in his mind he truly believes he is the fourth member of the Heatles. The yappy Kansas product is also one of the more adept guys in the league at getting under an opposing players' skin. However, he is a gambling, pass-lane cheating defender, which is not conducive to shutting down an explosive guard like Westbrook. Russ plays the game with a fury and savagery quite unlike any point guard the league has ever seen. After being thoroughly abused on the defensive end by Rajon Rondo, we can be sure that Chalmers does not have the speed or athleticism to slow down Westbrook, who is stronger than Rondo and a much better finisher at the rim. With the Heat's lack of PG defense, expect to see a lot of D-Wade on Westbrook, and at least 3 big scoring outputs (25-30 pts) from the second-team all NBA PG. Chalmers will hold his own on offense and will make timely shots, but will not come close to Westbrook's overall productivity nor wreak the sort of transition havoc #0 for OKC can create.

Advantage: Thunder

SG: Dwyane Wade vs. James Harden

 Yes, Thabo Sefelosha starts, but much like Manu Ginobili, Harden will be getting starter's minutes at the wing and will be on the court during crunch time, which is why he earns the starter comparison here. Both Harden and Wade are big, physical,  2-guards, and playmaking defenders. Both are among the best in the league at splitting double teams, although Harden is a more adept passer off penetration and Wade is the slightly better finisher with contact. Wade makes an impact with help-side shot blocking, but does not possess Harden's ability to stretch the court with the three ball. Wade is a petulant crybaby, a flopper, and has fat cheeks (sorry had to get that one off) while Harden has the league's most dominant facial hair. Unfortunately, have to give Wade the edge here due to his experience, clutch finals history, and ability to bend the refs to his whim.

Advantage: Heat

SF: Kevin Durant vs. Lebron James

A little preview

The matchup they all came to see. "The one we can't wait to crown" vs. "The one we want more than anything to fail." MVP vs. MVP runner-up. King James vs. Kid Clutch. Despite the incessant, churning criticism, LeBron has turned in one of the greatest postseasons of all-time to date, putting up 31pts-10reb-5asst-2stls on 51% from the field through the first 3 rounds. To this point, LBJ's game has shone brightest when the talk got loudest and the Heat's back was shoved against the wall. (see: 40-18-9, down 2-1 in Indiana, and 45-15-5 facing elimination in Boston). Meanwhile LeBron has effectively shut down 3 of the league's best quick forwards in Carmelo Anthony, Danny Granger, and Paul Pierce. Can he do the same to Durant? The short answer, no. Durant is going to get his numbers, but up against the fearsome defense of Lebron, he will have to work harder than ever for it. On the other side, Durant's rise in not just skill, but maturity, has been meteoric. In these playoffs, his ridiculous scoring ability and clutch shot-making have been paired with a keen understanding of when to pass to an open teammate and improved activity on the defenseive end (1.5 stls and 1.3 blocks per game in the playoffs.)

LeBron, at face value, is the better player, but Durant fits into a traditional basketball archetype- he is a scorer- and his teammates understand this, which allows them to build their flow and team identity on top of that ability. On the other hand, LeBron transcends a traditional role. He must do it all for his team- he is the Heat's best passer, interior rebounder, defender, and scorer. While this makes him on one hand perhaps the most versatile player of all time, it also can force the Heat into periods of stagnation, star-gazing, and praying that LeBron's greatness will bail them out (looking at you, Spo.) Finally, while LeBron has indeed been clutch throughout the postseason, the final shot in these tightly contested playoff games where legends are cemented, is almost always, a jumphot. Durant is the better shooter, and is building upon an already long list of daggers and postseason game-winners. Down 2 with 15 seconds left I'd rather have Durant with the ball, but over the course of 48 minutes, Lebron's end-to-end greatness gets the nod.

Slight advantage: Heat

PF: Chris Bosh vs. Serge Ibaka

 Bosh and Ibaka bring very different things to the table- Bosh outside shooting (three 3's in game 7 vs the Celtics) and post scoring, and Ibaka help-side shot blocking and the ability to knock down the open mid-range shot, to the sure delight of @AaronRodgers12. Both are long, athletic, and will finish on the break. Bosh's stamina seems to be in a good place after logging 31 minutes and putting up 19-8 on the C's just two games after returning from a 3 week absence. Kendrick Perkins, the Thunder's best individual post defender, will also see time checking Bosh. The Bostrich gets the edge here as he will get more touches and opportunities than Ibaka, although the Serge protector's energy and play-making ability will be a huge factor. Bosh must match Ibaka's energy level and rebounding for the Heat to not be completely decimated on the glass.

Advantage: Heat

C: Kendrick Perkins vs. Joel Anthony/Ronny Turiaf/Udonis Haslem/Juwan Howard's corpse

 Do we even have to touch on this? Perk is an elite post defender, an imposing force down low, and is motivated by his desire to eat Steve Kerr alive. Oh, he's not announcing this series? Just take it out on Mike Breen then, Perk He will also contribute 8-12 points, and makes opposing guards think twice about driving to the bucket, despite never having committed a foul in his career. Haslem is a very good rebounder for his size and nearly automatic with an open 15 footer, but calling him a center is a stretch. The rest of the Heat big men, in a word, suck. Next topic.

Advantage: Thunder

Battle of the Benches

 The Thunder have size, leadership, and shooting off the bench. They have reliable big men in Nick Collison and Nazr Mohammed, and (blecch) the clutch shot making and calming influence of Derek Fisher. Sefelosha might be the most underrated defender in the league, and can guard either Wade or LeBron without the aid of a double team. Daquean Cook, as we saw in the WCF, is capable of going ham from long distance at any time, and putting a team on his back for a 6 minute stretch. Not saying it will happen, but it could be a deciding factor in one of these games. Overall, OKC's bench is deeper and their role players are more reliable. Also, Cole Aldrich has a mohawk.

The Heat, on the other hand, somehow have yet to find a defined bench rotation despite having played 85 games this season. For some ungodly reason, Spoelstra insists on playing Mike Miller as the 3-point specialist wing, despite the fact that he has been moving like your Grandpa and bricks every open 3 he takes. James Jones is healthy and probably a more reliable shooter in the first place, but hey, Miller is white, so points for equal opportunity employment down there in South Beach. With Bosh presumably back in the starting lineup, Bane Shattier can finally return to the bench where he belongs. Honest to God, Battier ended up on the floor on every single play he was involved in during the ECF. No one in the history of the game has gone from having the 'rugged, no nonsense defender' reputation to 'flopping lame' quite like Bane Shattier. In the words of J Cole, "Son, ya lame. Ya Shane Battier." God, I hate him. But I digress...Norris Cole can provide decent minutes, but will not be a difference maker by any stretch of the imagination. No one else bears mentioning.

Advantage: Thunder

Coach: Scotty Brooks vs Erik Spoelstra

 Both coaches have come under fire in the postseason for a perceived lack of adjustments and X's and O's acumen. The difference between the two is that Brooks has the pedigree of being a 10 year NBA veteran with a championship ring, and his players actually like playing for him. Brooks instills confidence in his players, and is able to keep an outrageously young team with a combustible PG incredibly poised and focused, no matter the situation- say, being down 2-0 to a team with 4 rings and the greatest coach and player of the last 15 years. With OKC's firepower, but finals inexperience, a calming presence is more needed than a tactician. Meanwhile, you get the feeling that the Heat have been winning despite Spoelstra, not because of him. LeBron and Wade have both publicly acknowledged the increased burden placed on them by Spo's inconsistent rotations. And then of course, there was this. During the pre-game speeches and stupid "wired" segments on ESPN, you can tell that Spoelstra never played the game at an elite level and has little motivational gravitas beyond spouting cliches while his voice cracks like a pre-pubescant boy. He's a good young coaching mind, but not exactly the kind of guy who inspires superstars and commands respect in the huddle. Side note, over/under the number of times he will put his hands on his hips, pin his sport coat back and look like an overwhelmed middle school teacher whose student just asked him if he sucked butt: 115.

Advantage: Thunder

Crowd 

This:

 

 Vs. this:

'Nuff said.

Advantage: Thunder

The Prediction: OKC in six. It won't be easy, but the deeper, better coached, more well rested team will win out. After a tumultuous, controversial, injury riddled NBA postseason, we can be sure that some sublime basketball will be on display over the next fortnight, and at the end we will see who's sitting on the throne, and who's merely watching it.   

Vintage Mumbles

Yet another eloquent treatise on Boston's greatest sports moments from Hub Mayor Thomas M. Menino. Yes, it has long been prophesized that former Phoenix Suns point guard and current Sacramento Mayor Kevin "KJ" Johnson and Celtic legend John "Hondo" Havlicek would drag an aging Celtics team to within one game of the NBA Finals. KJ and Hondo can rest easy now that our fair Mayor has given these Celtic superstars their proper due. Um, I think you wanted to say KG and Rondo there, brotha. But in all seriousness, how awesome is it that the leader of our city sounds like an unintelligible townie stumbling home after getting his shine on for 10 consecutive hours on St. Patty's Day? And what the hell was he trying to say at the end there? Still trying to figure out how steel plates factor into the NBA conference finals.

More of Mumbles greatest hits:

Remember when Red Sox Catcher Jason Varitek split the uprights for the Patriots' first ever Superbowl Victory? Shit was wicked "ionic."

And here Mumbles offers some succinct and loquacious praise to the Patriots two most dangerous receivers, Rob Grabowski and Wes Wekler. Side note- I don't understand one word you just said. Mumbles, you slay me.

The Master at Work

With his 44 point, 10 assist, 8 rebound performance in game 2 of the hotly contested Eastern Conference Finals, Rajon Rondo put the league on blast. Rondo's performance embodied the phrase "statement game," and jammed some inconvenient truths down the throat of basketball pundits and naysayers nationwide. Rondo's performance forced the talking heads to attempt to find superlatives for a player that has been routinely shopped at the traded deadline, thrown under the bus for shooting problems, and suffered under the scrutiny of "attitude questions" throughout his career. What goes on in backrooms, lockerooms, in players' heads, and in media circles amounts to be little more than conjecture, but what happens on that 96' by 46' slice of heaven known as a basketball court, as always, is undeniable.

53 minutes of GAME time after the game 2 tip-off, the world knew that Rondo is the best playmaker in the NBA, the most creative and unique player in the game, and when his confidence and determination are turned up, quite possibly the best player in the world. What other player has the audacity to stand up to (and nearly derail) LeBron and D-Wade, single-handedly, when the newly christened "Demolition Duo" is firing on all cylinders? Only Rondo. What other player can make the sublime, the impossible, the pinpoint, seem routine? Only Rondo. Yes, the Celtics lost Game 2 in heartbreaking fashion on overtime, but were quite obviously bolstered by the confidence Rondo instilled in them as they stormed back to win games 3, 4, and 5. His numbers (21-10-6 in game 3, 15-15-5 in game 4, and 7-13-6 in game 5) seemed tame in comparison to game 2's classic performance, but to watch the games was to watch a true master at work.

Chris Paul may be better at the surgical drive-the-lane-and-kick game, but Rondo's passes are not merely the work of a tactician, rather they are the maddening crescendo of a basketball composer. Rondo's vision takes into account not only the positioning and tendencies of the defender, but also the offensive capabilities of his teammates, and a keen understanding of the geometry of each situation. When Joel Anthony fronted Garnett early in the 3rd quarter of game 4, Rondo not only understood the history of KG's plant and cut alley-oop move, but also KG's decreased leaping ability, as the maestro lofted a pass directly in front of the room for Garnett, the ball landing in his hand perfectly in stride for the easy lay-in. When Paul Pierce spotted up for a transition 3, Rondo knew the defense expected him to waft to the three point line and demanded that he cut. Pierce complied, and the ball was delivered via perfect bounce pass for the easy duece. Lefty, Righty, Bounce pass, behind-the-the-back, over-the-shoulder, perfect chest pass hitting the shooter in stride off the curl- Rondo's passing arsenal is untouchable. C'mon now, "The shit's chess, not checkers!!!"

It's hard to sneak up on people when you're a three-time all star, the starting pg for a championship team, have led the league in steals and assists, and are 4x all-defense. But somehow, that's exactly what Rondo has done. For whatever reason, he is just another one of the "unlikable" Boston Celtics bullies. You know, Those bullies who care more about winning and sacrificing for the good of the team than accruing twitter followers and building a global brand. While the media pans him for his sometimes prickly demeanor and quiet, seething arrogance, basketball purists are positively tumescent over the art, majesty, and determination with which Rondo plays the beautiful game. It's not often you see the player who leads the league in assists voted as the 2nd toughest player in the game (via this poll of GM's).

And as for the knock that he can't shoot? Anyone who routinely watches the Celtics knows that when Rondo shoots the ball with confidence he is a very good jump shooter who can get a 15-18 foot pull-up whenever he wants. If Rondo finds consistent confidence in his jumper, what is the ceiling? 24 pts and 12 assists? 1st team All-NBA? MVP? Only time will tell. All I know is if I was a young free agent looking to leave my mark on the game, Rondo would be at the top of the list of players I'd like to play with. The opportunity to reach basketball immortality comes along only every so often, and Rondo could easily give someone like Rudy Gay, Kevin Love, or James Harden the opportunity to grab it.

And as for the Celtics' best player being on the block again anytime soon, Rondo's predecessor, the great Bob Cousy said it best: "unless the kid's a serial killer, there's no way you trade him." Sometimes it takes a creative genius to recognize one of their own. The Cous' endorsement is just one more undeniable piece of evidence that we've got something truly special here in Boston. Here's hoping The Celtics do everything in their power to keep the artist on the parquet for years to come.

Kyrie Irving Goes Ham as Old Man

Inventive ad campain featuring Kyrie Irving destroying a pickup game in Jersey, disguised as a crotchety old man. Funny stuff. Also gives you an appreciation of how freakishly athletic NBA players are in comparison to your average, active dude. Enjoy.

Leave Ron-Ron Alone!

On a weekend that featured the defending Stanley Cup champion Bruins coming back from the brink of elimination to force a deciding game 7, the celebration of Fenway Park's 100th anniversary, the ousting of the President's Trophy winning Canucks in 5 games, and Kobe Bryant turning in yet another ridiculous array of clutch shots to bury the precocious OKC Thunder, the defining sports image from Saturday and Sunday tuned out to be a roaring Metta World Peace cold-cocking Thunder Swingman James Harden with one supremely violent swing of his elbow.

The avalanche of attention given to the artist formerly known as Ron-Ron's erstwhile elbow should come as no surprise, as sports coverage as of late tends to focus on the slimy, not the sublime. With the twitter-verse and blogosphere humming 24-7 on bounties, recruiting scandals, and golfers turned philandering sexual deviants, the common sports fan has been transformed, out of necessity, into a pundit who must view these villains from different perches along the moral high-ground. The latest chapter in sports folly has been authored by the very same athlete who largely brought about the PC revolution in sports for his role in the now infamous, "Malice at the Palace."

Certainly, World Peace's actions are not to be condoned, and he should be suspended for the brutal shot on Harden. However, let's remember that basketball (and sports in general) is an emotional endeavor. We are drawn to sports because it is profoundly human- wrought with errors, compassion, and sometimes, the loss of control. Take a look at the video- World Peace clearly allowed his emotions to get the better of him. He is not the first athlete to do so, and he will not be the last. His attempt at a rationale was inane at best. But that's Artest- wild, entertaining, and insane. This is why we are drawn to him, and also why countless columnists will make their bones this week shredding him to pieces.

Now the same talking heads who just last season were praising World Peace for turning a corner in his life and devoting himself to mental health are now condeming him as a thug who could only hide his true colors for so long. Tweeters, bloggers, and commentors from Calcutta to Kalamazoo are calling for everything from Artest's indefinite suspension to his incarceration. Relax, people. He got hyped up after a big play in an intense game and made an emotional, out-of-control maneuver. How can we justifiably demand that our athletes leave everything on the field/ice/court, but not be able to handle it when the emotion we see is not palatable to our ultra-sensitive tastes? Before bringing the moral gavel down on Metta's head, consider sports without intensity, hatred, joy, or savagery. It's a boring picture filled with boring people. With the caucophony of talking heads growing more and more influentuial, we are in danger of slowly draining the raw, fuming hatred out of our games. This may sound appealing at face value, but any true fan knows that in order to witness the sublime beauty of sport, you must also accept, in stride, the sometimes ugly manifestation of the beastly side of professional athletes.