Sports talk
This is a commentary about sports that was intended as a response to techstep’s link to this article about the state of the NBA. Apparently it seems that Dwyane Wade is a bigger threat to the free world than global warming! But for once I’m the optimist.
Sure, it was a big difference watching the Stanley Cup and the NBA Finals. After Carolina won game 7, the Oilers waited patiently, kneeling on the ice, and then hugged and shared heartfelt camaraderie with their victors. I saw it even with the notoriously combatative World Cup, as when a player from Ghana was called for a foul and walked up to the official and with a wide smile on his face and his arm around the offended player and tried to convince the man in stripes that this was his friend, and he wouldn’t harm his friend, now would he?
But then compare that to the Mavericks. On the Letterman show after Game 3, Mark Cuban took credit for the “new” NBA, for his tireless (and expensive) efforts to revise the way officials call the game on the perimeter, effectively opening up space for guys like Wade to slash and dash to the basket (good work, Cube). But this is from team defined after their next-to-last game by the owner charging down onto the court to challenge the officials, the star player walking through the halls kicking doors, shoving stationary exercise bikes around, acting like a baby, babied as he his by his overprotective industry.
At the same time, I was inspired by Shaq. Gone was his “Shaq Diesel” bravado and claims to supermandom. He was focused and driven. His face was devoid of any emotion other than intensity. When he was in foul trouble or playing poorly, he sat on the bench and watched his team and then he practiced more that night. When he was playing well, it’s because he was passing the ball, working hard to get position and hustling more than I’ve ever seen him hustle. And when he was throwing a fit, it was about his teammates not doing their best and letting him get called for 3 second violations.
Yes, Wade had his day (again and again) but it wasn’t anything like (hot and cold) Kobe against Phoenix. I think of Wade like former UT quarterback Vince Young, about to be let loose on the NFL. Yes, his talent is unique and raw and highly personal, but he’s a good person and I trust his spirit. He knows that talent like that can only function as a component of a winning team.
So I don’t think it’s such a doomsday. I was proud of how much while leading up to this, the first word out of Wade’s mouth was always about his love and respect for Shaq, his dependence upon his big men (Mourning) for the team to have gotten there. And I loved Avery Johnson for his large-hearted personal love and devotion to his players. I feel optimistic about the game, and I know it can survive all the sour grapes in the world.
Sure, it was a big difference watching the Stanley Cup and the NBA Finals. After Carolina won game 7, the Oilers waited patiently, kneeling on the ice, and then hugged and shared heartfelt camaraderie with their victors. I saw it even with the notoriously combatative World Cup, as when a player from Ghana was called for a foul and walked up to the official and with a wide smile on his face and his arm around the offended player and tried to convince the man in stripes that this was his friend, and he wouldn’t harm his friend, now would he?
But then compare that to the Mavericks. On the Letterman show after Game 3, Mark Cuban took credit for the “new” NBA, for his tireless (and expensive) efforts to revise the way officials call the game on the perimeter, effectively opening up space for guys like Wade to slash and dash to the basket (good work, Cube). But this is from team defined after their next-to-last game by the owner charging down onto the court to challenge the officials, the star player walking through the halls kicking doors, shoving stationary exercise bikes around, acting like a baby, babied as he his by his overprotective industry.
At the same time, I was inspired by Shaq. Gone was his “Shaq Diesel” bravado and claims to supermandom. He was focused and driven. His face was devoid of any emotion other than intensity. When he was in foul trouble or playing poorly, he sat on the bench and watched his team and then he practiced more that night. When he was playing well, it’s because he was passing the ball, working hard to get position and hustling more than I’ve ever seen him hustle. And when he was throwing a fit, it was about his teammates not doing their best and letting him get called for 3 second violations.
Yes, Wade had his day (again and again) but it wasn’t anything like (hot and cold) Kobe against Phoenix. I think of Wade like former UT quarterback Vince Young, about to be let loose on the NFL. Yes, his talent is unique and raw and highly personal, but he’s a good person and I trust his spirit. He knows that talent like that can only function as a component of a winning team.
So I don’t think it’s such a doomsday. I was proud of how much while leading up to this, the first word out of Wade’s mouth was always about his love and respect for Shaq, his dependence upon his big men (Mourning) for the team to have gotten there. And I loved Avery Johnson for his large-hearted personal love and devotion to his players. I feel optimistic about the game, and I know it can survive all the sour grapes in the world.