Time Capsule 2014

The NBA is a relative newcomer to the realm of big-league professional sports.

Vs. its direct competition - the NHL, NFL and MLB - it debuted decades later, delaying the process of building a fanbase. Said process was further inhibited by a multitude of issues through its formative years; everything from the league's poor decision-making and the rival ABA's emergence, to drugs, brawling, and greater, longer-lasting racism bias from the public than in any other sport.The Playoffs weren't even broadcast live until the 80's; it wasn't exactly successful at times.

As a result, there's a large gap between today's generation and the NBA's past. Not only did the league's infrastructure not allow for much preservation of its history, but its presence didn't resonate as much culturally; society as a whole wasn't as connected to it. Both in artifact and anecdote, there's relatively little by which to remember the Old School.

Jump in the DeLorean for a few decades - both the NBA and technological ubiquity have taken a Hodor-sized growth spurt, creating a contrasting predicament: Suddenly, everything is caught on camera - whether those of TV stations, media foot-soldiers, or some dude with an iPhone outside IHOP at 3am. The noteworthy moments have been diluted by an onslaught of peripheral distraction. There's so much by which to remember the "New School" that it's nearly impossible to take it all in.

It's hard to tell at this point how future generations will remember the 2013-14 NBA Season; in what ways the passing years will distort what now are very vivid memories. Thanks to the internet, we're assured that these moments won't be lost, but in today's age where instant information from countless sources changes perspectives so rapidly, they could just as easily be buried and forgotten.

With this season fresh in the rear-view mirror, let's take a look back at the people, things, and ideas that stood out among all the fluff in 2014; filling up a hypothetical time capsule with what to remember the NBA by this year:

- a pair of KD VIs
Kevin durant left his mark all over the regular season, somehow adding another layer to his dominance as a scorer, while also taking his defense and especially playmaking to new heights. With Russell Westbrook down, he kept OKC at or near the top of one of the most competitive conferences ever all year. In a season when the MVP was LeBron's to lose, Durant grabbed it decisively and then re-wrote the book on awards speeches. A return to the Finals eluded him this year, but it's only a matter of time for this guy. He's that good.

(He needs a post-up game though, and that's another story, but speaking of which:)

- a copy of the April 30, 2014 edition of the Oklahoman

- Doc Rivers' vocal cords 
Rivers was a massive influence in his first year on the bench for the Clippers - helping to usher in seasons of vast improvement for both Blake Griffin and DeAndre Jordan - with whom he wore out his signature hoarse voice regularly. You can assume he also may have yelled at someone when he found out Paul George (apparently his daughter's boyfriend) got a stripper pregnant on the side.

- Derrick Rose's knee braces
Rose's supposed year of redemption got put on hold again, when his meniscus snapped 10 games into his much-anticipated return from ACL rehab. Shelved again for the season, he joined the already-injured Rajon Rondo in setting an unfortunate trend that plagued NBA one-guards this year: Steve Nash, Russell Westbrook, Chris Paul, Deron Williams, Jrue Holiday, Eric Bledsoe, Kemba Walker, and even heir apparents Trey Burke and Michael Carter-Williams were all stung by the injury bug this year.

- a bank statement in the name of Ovinton J'Anthony Mayo, showing frequent transactions at Carl's Jr. in excess of $100, between the hours of 12 and 6 am.

- a copy of Donald Sterling's Anderson Cooper interview
Because it really sums up all you need to know about this situation. Thank God Adam Silver the NBA's done with him. (OK so maybe not entirely done...)

- Luis Scola's hairband, coupled with a signed Andrew Bynum Pacers jersey
It doesn't happen too often that a single trade defines a season for both teams involved, or that Larry Bird looks like an idiot, but sure enough it all happened when his Pacers gave the Phoenix Suns Gerald Green, Miles Plumlee, and a draft pick for Luis Scola.

At the time, the trade seemed like a sage move, giving up two players who didn't fit into Indiana's scheme, for a guy who'd ostensibly help bolster their pitiful bench.

Then of course, Green and Plumlee caught fire for the Suns, whose entire roster experienced a breakout that took the whole NBA off guard before capturing its attention with a thrilling season. Meanwhile, Scola was a beacon of inconsistency all year for the Pacers; a word that suddenly began to define their whole team, and consumed their season in disturbing fashion.

- one of those sideline monitors used for referee reviews

- LeBron's black facemask
(I don't know why this was such a big deal, but it was LeBron, and it was, so it's in here)

- Kevin Love's 2012 contract (four years, $62 million, opt-out clause in final year)
Everything seemed good a couple years ago when The Love Below re-upped; initially the impression was that he'd taken a below-max deal, helping keep Minnesota's chequebook open to surround him with talent and build a contender.

Eventually word got out that then-GM David Kahn had stupidly lowballed Love, which only served to amplify the young star's open displeasure with the team's direction. Though this contract gaffe was one of many nails driven into Kahn's coffin, it still haunts the team after his firing; the Wolves listened to the rumors about Love's inevitable exodus build all year.

Love's almost certainly going to be dealt this summer, and Minnesota - already on the wrong side of a brutal fight for Playoff seeds in the West - will take a further step back. Few players in the NBA have a higher trade value, but he's the kind of guy you want to be trading up for in these deals, not the other way around.

- Pierre the Pelican's pre-facelift costume

- an Official OVO Lint Roller
And the microphone Masai Ujiri blurted the words "Fuck Brooklyn" into.

- Josh Smith's shot chart:                                
- a threatening letter to James Dolan
Surely thousands of these things have been written, it couldn't be that hard to track one down.

Phil Jackson's hiring appeared as a bright halo to Knicks fans amid the raging shitstorm that was their 2013-14 season; a storm so violent and damaging that it would've fit better in a Michael Bay movie than on a basketball court. Everything that possibly, conceivably could have gone wrong in New York this season did, and then Raymond Felton pulled a gun on his girlfriend. Good grief.

Regardless of Phil's levels of authority and involvement next season, Dolan's mere presence atop this team is a toxic reminder of how he's run the NBA's most valuable franchise into the ground in every possible way for years and years, embarrassing the league and disappointing the team's fans. Jackson will be severely handicapped by Dolan's post-dated ineptitude; well over the cap, with few assets and no draft picks to leverage, and in imminent danger of losing the best player they've had since Ewing's knees gave out.

The saying "If you build it, they will come" definitely applies to a city like New York and a name like Phil Jackson, but thanks to Dolan, no one will be able to come for a couple more years anyway.

- 'Life After Death' by the Notorious B.I.G
...oh wait, you mean the Grizzlies' Chris Wallace is a different guy? And that album has nothing to do with him surviving several house-cleanings in the Memphis front office? Shucks, my bad... 

- Kevin Garnett's Geritol supply

- Mann's Chinese Theatre-style hand-prints from Kawhi Leonard and Giannis Antetokounmpo

- Kent Bazemore's warmup duds and bench towel

- This YouTube Tribute:


And This One:

- Rihanna's collection of Playoff ticket stubs

- a strand of hair from Anthony Davis' unibrow
(for potential cloning purposes)

- the Prozac prescription Gregg Popovich made some poor beat writer get after this happened.

- March's issue of GQ Magazine.

- a judges' Slam Dunk Contest scorecard, displaying a '2'
The Dunk Contest was in critical need of tweaking, and though that's exactly what it got this year, it somehow came out far worse. Everywhere: the confusing and simply stupid rule changes, the use of Samsung tablets instead of the judges' classic scorecards, featuring more of Nick Cannon than actual dunking, and then pulling the plug on itself just as things were getting exciting. John Wall sort of, maybe won ('Dunker of the Night' really doesn't have the same ring as 'Champion') but pretty much everyone involved in this mess lost somehow.

- a disco ball
Because Dirk was groovin' this year. In a different sense, so was Larry Sanders.

- an array of Lance Stephenson memes

- a Charlotte Bobcats promotional pamphlet (RIP)

- Shawn Marion's left shoelace
(and the fifty thousand dollars it cost JR Smith to untie it)

- a collection of Dwyane Wade's suits
Because he spent far too much time on the bench wearing them for the performance he put up in the Finals. After sitting a third of the season to rest his legs so he wouldn't suck so much down the stretch again, Wade teased us with a couple dominant stretches against Brooklyn and Indiana, then completely crapped the bed against the Spurs for the second straight year. His absence left LeBron to battle seemingly by himself some nights, and all for his presence to have the same effect when it mattered most.

Then he blithely dismisses his milk carton showing saying he's healthy and just not playing well. Dwyane, Miami paid you 18.5 MILLION DOLLARS to spend the entire season resting yourself for one series. Get real.

- a plate of Continental Breakfast, as selected by Boris Diaw
Because after how he played in this year's playoffs, he can pile on as many croissants as he damn well pleases. Go ham, Boris.

- Kawhi Leonard's Finals MVP Trophy
When he's a perennial All-Star in a couple years (and I do mean 'a couple', as in 'this is happening in the immediate future'), this will be remembered as the moment he arrived.

- a serving of "BBQ perogies"

- Steve Kerr's awards ballot
Because the guy who voted LeBron for Defensive Player of the Year, as well as Tim Hardaway Jr for Rookie of the Year, and the guy who weeks later was the prized coaching hire of the offseason, are the same person.

- Shaun Livingston's season stats, with the "G" column highlighted

- Cleveland's Winning Lottery Combination
One way this season will no doubt leave its mark on history and resonate for years will be its impact on the NBA's more-than-likely adoption of some anti-tanking mechanism.

Left right and center, teams raced to the bottom, eyeing the upcoming Draft as their chance to get a headstart on a needed rebuild. Tanking stole an unfortunate amount of this season; it was discussed too often in media circles, but then almost half of the NBA was either actively doing it, or contemplating it at some point. It was a waste of 82 games for some fans, and ruined a large portion of the overall picture league-wide. This season was like a delicious pie that was baked in a crappy oven, burning a whole side of it beyond enjoyment.

Onward stumbled the Cavs, landing in the Lottery despite every attempt on their part not to. In the ultimate of ironies, they outdrew every team who tried to suck, landing the coveted first pick. It didn't exactly reward smart management, but few teams really 'deserved' their reward this year, which is why league policy towards tanking will almost certainly change as a result.

- Adam Silver's glasses
A big reason why ^those policies are likely to change is the decisive precedents set by Adam Silver in the opening months of his tenure as commissioner. Besides his legendary axing of Donald Sterling, Silver also took quick measures to re-tool the Dunk Contest (though that didn't exactly work), instantly canned the noxious ref reviews, and has pushed the issue on reform for minimum age requirements. It's been anything but a "get a feel for the job" type of debut.

Silver's an open-minded, forward-thinking tactician, who's clearly very intelligent, and has a strong appreciation for the game's history and evolution. While his ideas may not mesh well with everyone, he's far more progressive in his approach than David Stern had grown recently, which is definitely a good sign for the NBA's continued success.

- This Picture:












And This One:

...And This One:

...And Finally:
- the flags from the Spurs' title celebration 
This was a beautiful moment, for a beautiful team, who played a beautiful game beautifully. After digging through everything else, this was what really mattered this year. That they all bonded together in a display of their team's unprecedented international flavor was a poignant reminder of basketball - and the NBA - blossoming globally. For a league whose beginnings were challenging, and its past so disconnected from today, it was an undeniable sign that its future is headed in the right direction.
                             
                            

Team First - The Spurs Win Again

Last year's NBA Finals Review was one of the most difficult pieces I've ever written.


Difficult, not only in what it attempted to do - attribute merit and blame to a series that was far too close for either to hold much weight - but through the chilling afterglow felt by anyone who enjoys watching basketball. It was hard enough to come to terms with just what had happened, let alone admit it was over, or try to make reason out of it.

This year is a little different. There was no seven-game marathon, no high-stakes game of Adjustment Tag between Erik Spoelstra and Gregg Popovich, no violent swings that made us re-think who was favored about 200 times, and certainly nothing even remotely approaching the excitement of Game 6. This year it was simple: The better team won, and it wasn't even close.


These Finals were appropriately emblematic of the NBA's dominant trend this year: the immense divide in overall quality between the East and West. Miami looked poised coming into this series, playing confident two-way ball and getting the level out of Dwyane Wade that was glaringly absent this time last year. What too many people dismissed, perhaps myself included, was how little resistance Miami had; the Bobcats with their best player injured, the SNBA All-Stars, and finally a team that made the East Finals despite a several-month-long meltdown.

It was a different story out West; San Antonio faced a tougher foe in the first round than Miami had all postseason, and while the head-start Serge Ibaka's injury gave them in Round 3 helped swing their win, there was no questioning the Spurs were a machine. A finely-tuned, horsepower-loaded beast on high-octane, low-viscosity fuel; its parts worked seamlessly (that word gets overused in sports writing, but in this case it's almost an understatement).


The Spurs' execution on offense - all season really, but especially amid the pressure, emotion, strain, and competitiveness of the Finals - was as close to flawless team basketball as we've seen in today's NBA. 100 years from now, this game tape could be used to teach kids how to play the 'right way'. This was Gregg Popovich's 9th Symphony, his Flu Game, his The Chronic; his masterpiece.

The culmination of The System's evolution couldn't have been timed better. Not only did the Spurs get sweet revenge after last year's - as Phil Jackson put best - 'mind-numbing loss', but dealt us a brutally visceral reminder in this age of 'Big 3s' they inadvertently helped breed, that this is still a team game. Miami's stars took what many see as shortcuts to their places in history, and were ironically denied the all-important three-peat by a well-rounded roster that was everything people hated the Heat for lacking.

Lacking is more or less the word that describes Miami's whiff of a Finals. Everyone who doesn't wear #6 on their team came up short far more often than they could afford against the Spurs. "Follow my lead" LeBron famously said before Game 5. He led, but the whole "follow" part got screwed up a bit.

The simplest way to break this series down from the Heat's perspective is that when James channeled God Mode and took over completely in a way no other player alive can (sorry, KD) - as he did in the first six minutes last night and the second half of Game 2 - they could compete. Those brief runs of truly unique dominance were the only times Miami led in this series, and the only stretches where the Spurs didn't seem in complete control.

The rest of their team's performance was an insult to LeBron's all-around brilliance. Dwyane Wade was unacceptably bad after saving himself most of the year for this stretch run. Chris Bosh faded in and out of an offensive rhythm, and wasn't attacking the way a player of his caliber can and should. Super Mario played like someone spiked his mushroom with quaaludes. The team was at standstills on offense, missing open looks when they seldom came, and failing to rotate on D with the quickness and precision that in theory made them so dangerous against the Spurs.

Regardless of how flat Miami was, part of the credit - or maybe most of it - still lies with San Antonio, who executed so f***ing well, exploiting every single opening the Heat gave them. Gregg Popovich dismissed their Team Fire outburst in the first half of Game 3 as an anomaly, but for a team that also just set a Finals FG% record - against one of the NBA's 'best defenses', 'outlier' seems like a better word. That 71-point, 78% half was no accident.

Defensively, the Spurs did a great job of walling LeBron off from the key; helping immediately from the wing when he got near the paint, and forcing the ensuing open shooter to beat them from distance. It was a "lesser of two evils" gamble; a simple tactic Pop didn't have to adjust much because Miami failed to make them pay time and time again.

The Spurs played so demoralizingly well through the entire series, you could see it on the Heat's faces; even they didn't think they could win. When they summoned the will to engage Rampage Mode, it was a solo effort from LeBron, both too little and too late.

Last night's triumph was a poignant torch-passing for San Antonio. Their veteran stars led the way to one more title, but Kawhi Leonard - for the second straight year - took his game to new heights, using the Finals as a showcase for his elite-ceiling talent. Kawhi is an absolute killer; a clearly under-utilized potential superstar whose humility and unselfishness fits almost too well in The System. Most nights, he'll play completely within the team, deferring, sometimes to their detriment, as if he's not confident of his own obvious ability. When he feels empowered, and is attacking like he knows he's that good, he's one of the NBA's best players, which is why he's our Finals MVP, a mere three games after his lack of impact became one of the series' biggest subplots.


Leonard will become more of a focal point going forward for San Antonio - the leap many figured he'd make this year was difficult within such a balanced team system, but will only be harder to hold back after the display he just put on. The once-storied trade that sent George Hill to Indiana for Leonard's draft rights has become yet another savvy pillage by Pop and RC Buford; securing and developing another humble, dynamic star to lead them when Tim Duncan retires. Ironically at the same age Duncan won his first Finals MVP, in what could be Timmy's NBA finale, Kawhi was the re-birth. The team's in good - not to mention freakishly big - hands.

Of course this outcome weaves narratives of offseason uncertainty for both franchises; for the Spurs whether Duncan and/or Pop will return, and for the Heat whether anybody will. The only certainty for Miami is that Norris Cole and Birdman will be back, and Shane Battier won't (A side nod to Battier on a great career that deserved a better ending that this collapse; he was a living embodiment of every positive intangible cliché - "great locker room guy", "makes others better", "does the little things", "plays smart" - and is one of the most well-spoken and intuitive pro athletes ever. He'll be an instant hit on ESPN's NCAA coverage next year).

Trying to figure out what's next for Miami is a futile attempt to both read the minds of their "Big 3" (a term I use with strong hesitance after this series), and predict what Pat Riley may have up his sleeve. A whole bunch of things could unravel. Among them: LeBron could toss Bosh and Wade some of that Beats residual under the table send a message with a big pay cut; the kind Timmy D took (making less than half of what he was eligible for last year) that enabled San Antonio to keep this team together. Duncan has significantly scaled back his salary since signing an extension in 2007 for well below (>20%) the max. That deal was worth $20million/year; this year he made about half that. He's led by example for Manu and Tony Parker to follow the same lead, and directly enabled the Spurs' continued success.

The Heat have been schooled again, just as they were by the Mavs in 2011. This time the lesson was in sustainability, with the blueprint laid out by a team whose stars' unselfishness allowed them to keep contending as they aged. I know it was only four years ago that Miami's triumvirate of talent seemed almost unfair, but Wade - who was once both indestructible and unflappable - just blew his second straight finals, Chris Bosh is still forced out-of-position a lot and is variably dangerous, even LeBron finally showed signs of mortality this year, as his surroundings grew increasingly Cleveland-like.

This team's getting no younger, and their easiest means of returning to the throne is by following the example San Antonio just served them. All three of Miami's players can and should take pay cuts; because LeBron has more money than his great-grandchildren's extorting ex-wives could spend, the thought of Wade or Bosh making anywhere near $20 million next year gives me headaches, and it would be the best move for all three of their legacies going forward. Whether they want to heed The System's sage advice is up to them.

As for the Spurs, it's hard to see why anyone would want to leave this organization; especially someone who was as rejuvenated for this series as Duncan. He could easily play another year at this pace, but his fifth ring - the one he endured the longest wait for - would be the perfect way to ride out. As he sat at the podium last night, a proud dad with his kids on Father's Day, having accomplished virtually everything a basketball player could in his career, one could hardly blame him for walking away.

But this isn't about what's next for San Antonio yet; it's about the now. Congrats to the NBA Champion Spurs; no one deserved it more. 

They Meet Again...

The Irresistible Force Paradox is a complex philosophical query that seeks to address what happens when a so-called "unstoppable force" encounters an immovable object. Countless hours have no doubt been wasted pondering this hypothetical showdown - its origins date back to ancient China and Greece - but the NBA Finals are about to provide a very thorough case study.

The Miami Heat are by all definitions an unstoppable force; a trio of All-NBAers who, in their primes, banded together in an unprecedented attempt at historic glory. Regardless of our opinions about how competitive or legitimate their decisions were, they've delivered on massive expectations, making four straight Finals runs, gunning for a third Larry O.

Then there's the Spurs, the good 'ol San Antonio Spurs, who have been as close to an immovable object as exists in pro sports over the better part of the last two decades. Year after year, they somehow stiff-arm Father Time and throw together a deep Playoff run, this one culminating in a chance for revenge:

The 2013 Finals were, needless to say, an epic. Seven games of haymaker exchanges between two teams battling for legacy implications far beyond just one season's title. This year, the stakes have somehow been raised; a three-peat for Miami, and the Spurs looking to overcome arguably the most painful loss in Finals history.

Pretty safely said, no two other teams wanted to be here as badly.

While a few things have changed, the tale of the tape reads somewhat similar to last year (duh). These are two incredibly versatile lineups; comfortable in variety of tempos, and able to adjust rotations on the fly. San Antonio holds slight-to-significant edges in offensive execution, pace control, and depth, while Miami has the quickness and athleticism to selectively dominate both sides of the ball. Not to mention potentially the two best players in this series.

Dwyane Wade's performance will be critical, and all signs point to the significant rest he got all season paying off down the stretch. He was dominant vs. Indiana, looking like his 25-year old self, and not last June's hobbled mess whom the Heat prevailed almost in spite of. They're a different team when Wade's playing energetic ball, attacking off the bounce and keeping control of his defensive assignments. It not only takes pressure off LeBron, and gets them in transition together more, but opens up so many more options for everyone from Mario Chalmers to Udonis Haslem in the halfcourt, which will be another key to this series.

While Miami's Big 3 will all need to bring their A-Games, the same isn't as applicable for the Spurs, who boast the deepest and most role-suited rotation the NBA's seen in some time. San Antonio's deep enough that they can still win games in which Parker, Ginobili and Duncan are overshadowed, if guys like Boris Diaw and Kawhi Leonard are playing like All-Stars. Miami can't hope to win the bench/supporting cast battle, but the ability of guys like Chalmers, Norris Cole, and especially Birdman to neutralize the Spurs' depth advantage could decide this series.

Mr. Andersen might be counted on to play a bigger role (pun intended) with San Antonio likely to force Miami's hand with large lineups that disrupt their small-ball approach and feast on paint scoring absent an athletic protector (see; Western Conference Finals, Games 1, 2). Popovich knows that not only will he be exploiting Miami's lack of interior protection, but disabling them from playing the kind of Bosh/Lewis frontcourt that took Indiana's slower bigs and worse rotations out of the game. In this regard it's all about which team can strike the first blow, establish a rhythm, and force the other to adjust, an advantage neither seem inclined to concede right now.

Miami's dismantling of Indiana in Game 6 had as much to do with the Heat's great play as it did the Pacers' collective bowel movement on the American Airlines Arena floor. As a team, they're sharp and focused; LeBron is LeBron, Wade looks better than he has in two years, Bosh is as dangerous a third option as exists, and their bench - for all the talk of how they lost Mike Miller and fanned on free agency last summer - has been consistently strong through multiple permutations. It took two fluke games from the Pacers to avoid a sweep (Game 1's miracle where they got their most coherent team effort in months and everyone freaked out like the Apocalypse was coming, and Game 5 where LeBron was in serious foul trouble, which sounds weird just saying). The East wasn't exactly tough this season, but Miami was very close to a single-loss rampage to the Finals; they're playing more stable and confident heading in than they were this time last year.

The Spurs have been their own form of consistent juggernaut, only they've been doing it all season, and in a much tougher Conference. Their ability to dominate with a variety of lineups and threats was as much an asset as it was an impressive result; everyone's been kept fresh and can capably contribute depending on what Pop decides he needs. Even with Tony Parker's hamstring ailing, they've been firing on pretty much all cylinders, not only outplaying the Thunder, but doing it with about as many different lineups as could exist in one series.

While the Spurs' Big 3 still undoubtedly lead this team, it's becoming far less about them, and never moreso than this year. Kawhi Leonard and Boris Diaw have not only been hired guns offensively, but will be looked upon to repeat last year's stellar coverage on LeBron. Patty Mills will space the floor, tire Miami's defenders and no doubt sting them with a few three-balls, while Cory Joseph will play a big part if the Heat begin torching the perimeter themselves. There's no need to remind everyone what Danny Green can do in the Finals when he's ignored, and Marco Belinelli is just as liable. Tiago Splitter's been a stud, Aron Baynes is one of the best backups bigs around, and even The Red Mamba can make a cameo start in a small-ball set. That's this year's Spurs: you can get it from anyone, they don't care who it is.

As evidenced last year, this type of pass-heavy, balanced team play, while crippling against just about any team, isn't as much of an edge vs Miami, who play passing lanes notoriously well, rotate quickly, and often feature lineups without a single minus defender on the floor. They're kind of like a phalanx around the perimeter, they must be penetrated to be truly damaged. Unfortunately for them, Parker is a nightmare getting into the paint off the dribble (when he's at or near full strength), and the Spurs boast the NBA's best corps of big men, both in terms of passing and moving without the ball.

San Antonio can hurt Miami in a variety of ways; while their preferred style and tempo can play into the Heat's hands at times, they're definitely versatile enough to create other edges, which is the Spurs' greatest advantage in this series.They not only have more options in terms of dictating matchups and forcing adjustments, but Gregg Fucking Popovich deploying the troops. All apologies to Erik Spoelstra, who's proven his worth as NBA coach in about the hardest way possible, but he's the definite underdog of the Bench Boss Battle.

On the other hand, he has LeBron James, which really just speaks for itself. The guy's the most complete player in the history of basketball; one who despite having been a beast this entire postseason, has seemed almost slightly reserved by his standards, as if he's saving his best for when he knows it's needed. Playoff LeBron absolutely has another gear, which has to terrify any Spurs fan.

Trying to decide this series is pretty much impossible as is; these teams possess very unique and distinct advantages over each other, that they're both liable to apply in a high-stakes war of adjustment. Last year, they were so closely matched that it spanned seven gruesome games, the result leaving both thirstier for victory this time around. It's the unstoppable force clashing with the immovable object; there's logic behind both choices.

In this case though, the immovable object seems like the safer choice. The Spurs have been a 'rock' all season, playing devastating basketball through numerous injuries; Tony Parker's nebulous condition - while an obvious issue - is much less a concern for them than any other roster. The margins between these two teams are so close that we're almost certainly in for another seven-game bout, and counting on the Spurs to lose again - after coming so close last year and coming back as a better team - is asking too much.

Enjoy what has the makings of another legendary Finals. SPURS IN 7.

Top 9s: Thoughts on the Finals

Whoa.

That was an NBA Finals.

A heavily-contested seven-game exchange of haymakers between two iconic juggernauts.

Not only a title, but legacies were on the line, and it played out beautifully.

While a few of the series' games didn't need a second half, and Miami spent most of it mired in inconsistency, it was the adjustment-fueled unpredictability of this matchup, and its ability to deliver a dramatic turn of events at every crucial juncture, that made it so compelling. It went kind of like this on a basketball court (with Dwyane Wade playing the role of Joffrey as he ridiculously nicknames his new sword "Heart-Eater").

I'm still trying to wrap my head around Game 6. I've spent countless hours watching basketball, and can't confidently say I've ever seen a more crucially thrilling 4th quarter, one that will probably go down as the most definitive moment in LeBron James' legacy. He'd spent most of the game playing passively; pulling up for jumpers when he was ice cold and displaying a similar lack of touch when he seldom got to the hoop. Then the 4th came, as if it were pre-ordained by Erik Spoelstra telling Doris Burke "We need our best defensive quarter of the season". They got it, erasing a 10-point deficit with LeBron not only putting up several massive plays on D but - ironically stripped of his hairline-guard - channeling Ether Mode out of nowhere, scoring at will, saving his team's season and altering history. 

Without that performance, the Heat's season (and when I say "Heat", I basically mean LeBron) becomes a footnoted failure along the NBA annals; their boisterous and flamboyant union of superstars in South Beach would ultimately be looked upon as a bust of style over substance and hype over hoops. James boldly re-wrote what seemed to be another off-chapter in his career; he solidified the next level in an already Top-10 All-Time career, and swiftly changed the popular offseason discussion from "When will he just get it consistently in the Finals?" to "He might go down as the best basketball player ever". That LeBron came out guns blazing from beyond the arc in Game 7 (I was waiting for him to turn around and shrug as he jogged downcourt) was a fitting cap to a memorable Playoff run in which he solidified himself as, if nothing else, the most dynamically dominant player in NBA history.

It would be ignorant not to tip a hat to the Spurs (although it's definitely possible that the backup point guard of the Houston Rockets was the biggest contributor to their Playoff run). Every year they continue to defy father time and popular opinion, and were a transcendent, historic takeover by an unstoppable player away from a 5th Pop/Duncan title over 14 years. That's fucking impressive. Way may not have even seen the last of them yet, but how San Antonio manages to continue performing at this level is one of sports' greatest complex marvels.

There's plenty more to be said about this series, I could go on for days. To spare my fingers - and your tolerance for my rantings -  I'll keep it to nine things that stood out to me (other than LeBron) in these Finals, a Championship Edition of the Top 9s:

9. Manu's Officially Fallen Off

The guy who was the easy bet as the first Spurs' star to slow down indeed has confirmed early indications that San Antonio's "Big 3" are now a busted tripod. Game 5 was a renaissance to his glory days, but it came almost as a shock (if such a thing was possible in this series) and was evidently a flash in the pan, as Ginobili returned to inconsistent, selective scoring over the last two games, while turning the ball over like bed sheets in a Vegas hotel. Kawhi Leonard is  unquestionably now the Spurs' third-best player (more on that in a moment) and Popovich/Buford should give serious thought to how much they can invest long-term in the Free Agent who performed so inconsistently down the stretch of the postseason. At 35, with a total of 18 pro seasons under his belt, it's a virtual certainty he won't be getting better. 

8.Javie the Hutt

NBA officiating is an extremely difficult, high-pressure job with massive implications; one that isn't made any easier when the context of fouls - the most common call in the game - can often change almost nightly. The inconsistency in officiating's been an issue plaguing the Playoffs annually, as warped calls distort the game's context and affect outcomes (like Ginobili's potentially series-altering no-call at the end of Game 6). 

Luckily a very smart individual at ESPN decided to toss the recently-retired Steve Javie a headset and let him help bridge the gap between reality and that strange alternate universe officials occasionally drift off into where only superstars shoot free throws, and a player grimacing excitedly after a big dunk can get him T'd up. Javie's well-spoken, impartial and offers not only an experienced perspective on the difficulties of the job that can lead to blown calls, but serves as a sort of watchdog against officials who might get over-zealous and try to take over games with the whistle. At least on national TV. 

7. Erik Spoelstra "clicking buttons"

As an addicted dedicated online poker player, I've gradually become immersed in a vast lexicon of strange vernacular. One of the more self-explanatory terms - "clicking buttons" - refers to a player who's just randomly splashing around without any sort of consistent strategy, waywardly tapping  his mouse and keyboard, making wild bet sizes with junk hands as though he's excited just to see what will happen.

This seemed to be Spo's M.O. throughout most of the series, as Popovich continually out-coached him and he responded by frantically throwing different lineups at San Antonio in an almost trial-and-error fashion, before finally arriving at the Game 6 4th-Quarter set that spaced the floor ideally for LeBron and was quick enough to rotate against the Spurs' passing.

He failed to develop a scheme to contain Danny Green for five games (if it happens for one game, it's probably the players' fault, if it happens for five it's definitely the coach's), randomly went small with Mike Miller instead of Shane Battier, took too long to realize the Birdman just wasn't flying against Timmy D, before benching him and then re-inserting him in a panic for Game 6 only to have basically the same thing happen.  Miami won this series almost in spite of him as Pop exploited the sideline matchup in ways Spo couldn't counter.

6. Dwyane Wade might be my least favorite player in the NBA

When the Heat assembled this trio, Wade was the squeaky-clean one; the GQ-rated, ring-having King of South Beach, who'd "brought them together" and hadn't left a city/country of pissed off fans behind him. Times have certainly changed; LeBron's stolen the keys to the team and city from Wade, who's developed a troubling pattern of arrogant, annoying behavior while oscillating between past and future versions of his basketball ability.

He whines constantly to the refs, probably more than any other NBA player. He makes dumb public statements, like he should be paid for the Olympics. He plays with an irritating sense of entitlement that isn't his anymore; a common ball-stopper who launches predictable, out-of-sync mid-long range jumpers as though they're his bread 'n butter, and when he plays like crap, he deflects it on LeBron or screams at his coach. 

Dressing as obnoxiously as he often chooses to while attempting to give himself an equally dumb and narcissistic nickname as a promotional tie-in for his new shoe deal don't make him any more likeable, nor does the fact that he dates a woman who's hypnotized any man (and probably more than a few women) who's seen movies on BET.

What's most disappointing about Wade is that he generally behaves with about 20% of the poise, maturity and charisma that he had before James and Bosh showed up, like he's regressed to an immature child that needs to show off for his friends. A guy who was once respected league-wide has become a pretentious crybaby while his consistency continues to slip. And his team played better without him when it mattered most. 

5. Kawhi Leonard is really, really good

While Ginobili and Wade represented the fading legends of these Finals, Leonard used the series as his launching pad from "Alpha Role-Player" to "Probable All-Star", teaming with Boris Diaw to confound LeBron for large stretches, while scoring in a variety of ways, and both passing and rebounding extremely well for a player his size.

A recent Grantland article chronicled the Leonard/George Hill swap as both were playing a crucial role for teams in the Conference Finals and it appeared to be a mutually beneficial move. The added layer was that Indiana had almost traded for Hill the previous season, but backed out to keep their draft pick and use it on some guy named Paul George who just reeked of NBA potential. Having George developing on the wing made it easier for Indiana to part with Leonard's rights, allowing the Spurs to acquire a player whose career ceiling - after these Finals - doesn't look much different from PG's lofty potential.

Everything about him impresses me; not only the variety of ways in which he can impact a game, but how he keeps a constant even-keel. He always stays cool and plays within himself, accepting whatever is asked of him by his team and performing with the poise of a veteran. At 21. It seems remarkable, but then you remember that these are the Spurs, that the words "character guys" and "draft steals" are the core of their franchise, and it becomes perfectly standard. 

4. Like a Bosh

Bosh's Finals performance - much like Wade's - was a generally disappointing inability to get himself going consistently. He put up a donut in Game 7 (yeah, he didn't score at all) missing easy jumpers and drawing the ire of Miami's fickle crowd after they had to watch Tim Duncan just completely sodomize him for 36 minutes of Game 6. But in between those two disasters, he delivered on three plays - two blocks and an offensive rebound - that respectively indirectly and very directly, saved Miami's season.

As simple and amusing as it is to poke fun at a guy who makes himself such a target consistently, I kind of feel for Bosh, as he's had to make massive sacrifices for this team. Not only did he slide from a first to third option in joining the Heat, but eventually was asked to step outside his comfort zone and position, basically playing a pseudo-center to help keep the floor spaced with shooters, the lane open for James and Wade, and as many runners on the floor as possible for the Heat's suffocating, uptempo play. The result has sometimes often left Bosh in compromising positions on defense and the offensive glass against larger, longer, more physical players, not helping his reputation around the league as somewhat of a, well, a bitch. While Bosh is hated on and joked about, he still plays a vital role on this team; one that now has "not one..." but two titles, so he's not getting it all wrong.

Case in point were his uncharacteristic blocks of the Spurs' attempts to steal back a game he kept alive with his team's Playoff life flat-lining. Bosh had every reason not to own that moment - he'd been getting worked all game, played awful for most of the series, and was never particularly known as a strong defender or mentally fortuitous competitor. But he, against most odds, still managed to come up with unexpected contributions at the most vital of times. So for now, he should hold his head high and be happy. For once. At least until something like this happens.

3.The Legend of Danny Green

Danny Green's unconscious 3-point explosion over the first five games was a perfect storm of applicable catalysts. A very good shooter was often the last focus on D, and not only moved impeccably well on cuts to create space for himself, but happened to play on a team where the "extra pass" was a given.

What he did to Miami was spellbinding, not only in the obvious impressiveness of his record-shredding run, but the Heat's complete and utter inability to just stay at home against him, and eliminate a looming liability. Spo was tossing so much help in the paint against Duncan/Parker that Green could just break across a baseline underneath all the action and emerge on the other side with 10 feet of openness.

All it really took was the simple rationalization that "We've left this guy open and he's been their

leading scorer so far. He can't really create for himself or others off the dribble, so maybe if we just   acknowledge how he's burnt us so far and stop leaving him on the wing, he won't be as effective".

The results spoke for themselves. Green failed to develop any kind of consistent rhythm, settling for mostly-contested jumpers and looking like a small child lost at the mall whenever he put the ball on the floor. He shot a combined 2-19 over the Final two games while scoring fewer total points than he had in any lone Finals contest. Miami won both those games. Obviously the former didn't completely cause the latter, but it was certainly a massive contribution, and an obvious adjustment that came late - almost too late - for Miami. 

2. Effort vs. Execution
The simplest way of breaking down these Finals is that they were a war of constant adjustment with both teams putting each other in precarious positions - San Antonio by playing near-flawless basketball for large chunks of this series, and Miami by working their edge in athleticism when it was most critical.

I use the words "most critical" very carefully because through a lot of this season, particularly the Playoffs, it seemed as though Miami needed to be backed into a corner in order to truly play their best basketball. They often seemed almost arrogantly nonchalant in their lack of investment; everyone watching knew this team had a higher gear. To their credit though, they shifted into that gear consistently when they had to, and though their season had to be threatened several times, the brilliance with which the Heat played under the chaos of urgency, time and time again, was unreal.

As simple as it is to say the more talented team won, it would be a fallacy. Miami's Big 3 united and all played championship basketball for exactly one game of this series. Both Wade and Bosh were below 100% as they struggled to take the heat off LeBron (pun completely intended). What kept them going were King James, and a rotating cast of supporting players being thrown through Spoelstra's Finals Lineup Randomizer Machine, and each came up big at times.

And when it came down to it, Miami was able take enough hits and not only stay on their feet, but summon the will to take it to the next level against a team that gave them every reason to think they couldn't win.

1. The End of the Era

Lost amid the excitement of the Finals was that this would be David Stern's last trophy presentation. The legendary commissioner has grown the NBA's popularity immeasurably since taking over in 1984, re-engineered pro basketball into a marketable, exciting product. There couldn't have been a more fitting farewell for him than this ratings-smash of a seven-game, superstar-filled, thrillingly media-hyping series.

When Stern took over as commish, the NBA Finals were shown on tape delay as a more-than-slightly-racist American public was having trouble buying into a league of coked-out mostly-black athletes who brawled constantly and played for stats and contracts over wins and championships. Today - as he not-so-subtly pointed out before handing over the trophy that will one day bear his name - the Finals are watched by many millions in countries around the World. Much can be said of his tactics, but it's largely because of Michael Jordan David Stern that his beautiful game has grown and flourished, to be appreciated by so many globally; its dynamic popularity a reflection of its true entertainment value.

And so Stern rides off into the sunset (well, he doesn't officially retire until next February, but it has to be assumed Adam Silver will begin sliding into his new role) his run capped by an epic blockbuster he can proudly look upon as having fostered through decades of hard work. As basketball fans, we should be thankful for Stern. And for these Finals. It was one of the best ever, and a privilege to watch. 

2013 Finals Preview: Are the Heat Hot Enough?

In 2007, a then-Cavalier named LeBron James dragged a pitiful Cleveland roster through a shallow East Playoff bracket, as its lone star, to his first Finals; a showdown with the San Antonio Spurs. What ensued was a swift, abrupt lesson in team execution as the Spurs swept the Cavs in demoralizing fashion. LeBron would never return to the Finals with Cleveland, a team he ultimately deemed wasn't to his standards.

Fast-forward six years, several MVPs, one Decision, a one-way ticket to South Beach, and two Finals appearances later, LeBron is suddenly getting those "Cleveland" feelings again, his brilliance being contrasted by disappointing play from those around him. Despite this, he finds himself back in the Finals, and sure as the sky's blue and the dirt brown, waiting there for him again are the Spurs. Some things change, some things stay the same.

One such thing; David Stern consistently dodging disaster. Rumblings of referee incompetence were forcing a Game 7 that could potentially commit a Red Wedding-style massacre on his final Finals' ratings as commissioner, but the Heat stung a decisive win against the superstar-less, small-market Pacers, moving on to battle the Spurs in a matchup that's really about more than this season's title.

For Miami, it's a validation of what they've constructed. This season's team was Small-Ball at its apex;  a pressure-filled flurry of transition alley-oops and multiple-pass diversion plays that epitomized the NBA's emerging skill-over-size trend. A win in this series would bolster their 27-game win streak and last year's title; it would put them among some of the truly memorable teams on a historic level. This is important for Miami because the Decision-fueled hype of Summer 2010 set the bar on an unprecedented level for this team, and anything short of historic resonance will be seen as a failure of not only what they put together, but how.

For the Spurs, it's a chance to resonate on an even greater level. They've spent the last 14 years, in the face of the largest fanbase of on-the-low hatred in professional sports, quietly, methodically, arguably becoming the greatest dynasty in the modern era of professional sports. A fifth title in as many Finals appearances over such a stretch with the same coach/superstar combo would be an unprecedented feat in any league, and would further pad Tim Duncan's already Top 10 All-Time resume.

For the NBA it's a very marketable, star-filled clash of Old vs New School; one with two evenly-matched, highly-skilled and well-coached two-way teams who both present several matchup issues for each other, and can not only dictate but adapt well to a game's change in tempo. In other words: this series is guaranteed not to be a flop (we've seen enough flopping in these Playoffs), and has the potential to be truly memorable.

This Finals obviously has to start with LeBron James, the reigning MVP/Finals MVP/possible Transformer who can dominate games in more ways than any player perhaps ever. He'll be the focal point of this series, both on the court and in the social mediasphere, and his team's chances appear to hinge heavily on his ability to maintain what I call "Ether Mode". The good news for him is that he's just defeated a team that between Paul George's dynamic coverage and Roy Hibbert's "Verticality" was ideally equipped to defend him. The bad news is that the Spurs are capable of not only suffocating defense, but thrive on half-court offensive efficiency that would've easily buried the Miami team that showed itself for most of the Pacers series; one that will not only challenge their team D much more, but be far less willing to cough up the ball for the transition buckets the Heat thrive on. So LeBron's isn't in for a cakewalk, as he'll have to not only excel on offense consistently, but potentially cover several defensive mismatches .

If Miami can take something away from the fact that a one-way team with an absolutely pitiful bench just dragged them to a seventh game, it's that they faced real adversity and a sense of urgency for the first time all season and overcame it. Not only were Bosh and Wade just awful, but drawing the ire of LeBron, who took public pot shots at his teammates as the Heat's chemistry - which as had been schizophrenic prior to this season - appeared to be coming undone. The response to the threat of elimination was an immediate return to their winning style - exploiting and attacking Indiana instead of falling into their halfcourt tempo - and an emphatic win that righted their momentum. Which is good for them because they'll need it; The Spurs are playing extremely well as a team, and are more rested than Gregg Popovich ever could've plotted for at this point in the season.

Tony Parker's most recent performance was a filleting of an NBA All-D 2nd-Teamer, so Miami has to be immediately concerned about how to contain him. Mario Chalmers is long on the perimeter, but kind of slow. Norris Cole is quick and energetic, but not an incredible fundamental defender. Dwyane Wade is a phenomenal defender on his best day, but today (or at least most of the past two weeks) is far from that day.
Parker's ability to pick apart Miami off the dribble will highlight both strengths and weaknesses of their team D. Miami has very little rim protection, and if Parker is able to get to the hole at will, he'll make life difficult for them by forcing a defensive collapse on the paint - that San Antonio is all-too-well known for picking apart with crafty passing and the infamous Corner Three. To the Heat's credit, they're perfectly-built to play that kind of high-movement, switch-heavy scheme on D, and will ensure more resistance than Memphis did.

The ability of their post tandem to handle Tim Duncan also has to be a huge concern after Chris Bosh played like one of those flamingo lawn ornaments for most of the East Finals. Timmy D's not only going to be fresh, but exploit every single edge Miami gives him; their coverage will have to be multi-faceted. He's enough of a scoring threat to warrant double-teams, especially against the Heat's front line, but an equally dangerous passer both within and out of the post. Again, this primarily attacks a fundamental weakness of Miami's, but they're well-equipped to defend the secondary by doubling down on Duncan and rotating quickly enough to cover open shooters/passing lanes. Interior passing will be a serious issue for them however; Tiago Splitter tore the Grizzlies apart when Gasol sat and the Arthur/Randolph combo couldn't hold water against Duncan's dual threat, and Miami's similar (only perpetual) lack of size could leave them more exposed against a team whose bigs both pass and finish extremely well close to the hoop (In fact, don't be entirely surprised if LeBron ends up covering Duncan for some stretches if he's got fouls to give).

Manu Ginobili will be the Finals' obvious Wild Card; while he's been a hobbled shadow of himself as the Playoffs have wore on, the week+ off will have given him a chance to recharge and bring a new level of energy and pressure to the Heat perimeter. Miami's periodic offensive dysfunction in the East Finals went largely unpunished when Indiana's bench was struggling to pass to the right team, let alone put the ball in the basket. Manu at his best is a one-man firing squad who can ignite a second unit by himself and is savvy enough to create hoops for any teammate, and his potential highlights another issue for Miami: Depth.

San Antonio can wear teams down by out-manning them, going the whole way down their bench with players tailor-fit to specific roles and matchups. Conversely, Miami's bench reads like a gradually-declining list of the same skill sets, each player not only becoming more ineffective, but cobweb-ridden during their playoff run. Joel Anthony is a prime example of a player who might see extended minutes (to stop the bleeding Duncan's likely to inflict), but will force the Heat out of their comfort zone and into a 4 on 5 offense.

So what does Miami have going for them?

First off, Chris Bosh should be in a slightly more comfortable state, and the same can be said for Dwyane Wade. Both were pitted against larger, more physical defenders against Indy, and Bosh in particular drew the brunt of Hibbert's abuse in the low post, and the hit his ego took obviously permeated into his confidence on offense as he struggled consistently (which sort of explains why he was so happy when he finally managed to hit a shot in Game 7, as seen to the right). While Duncan's obviously far more skilled than Hibbert, he's also primarily a finesse player, one who caters to Bosh a bit more. Indiana took Christopher so far out of his comfort zone on one end that he couldn't establish it on the other, and the result was some of Miami's worst ball of the season.

Wade was likewise ineffective, appearing a step slow and out-of-sync with James, partly due to Indiana's League-best defense, as well as a (relative) rift between the BFFs, with the two taking not-so-indirect shots at each other through the media. Game 7's win was surely enough to squash whatever was going on there. Ever since the 2nd-half turnaround in Game 4 of last year's Indiana series - the one where Wade and James were human portrayals of the CPU that just won't let you win in Madden or 2K - their occasionally mercurial on-court synergy has usually been at (or near) its best when most needed, as though they know they have a gear above everyone else and confidently engage it. These Finals will require it consistently.

While the Spurs have a depth advantage, Miami certainly has the talent and athleticism to force their hand with it. Their frenetic play on both sides of the ball can wear teams down and rack up fouls, which will be a very dramatic shift from the pace Memphis just allowed San Antonio to get so comfortable in. They'll be forced to chase a lot more on D, battle for plenty more defensive boards, and be giving up an athleticism edge at almost every position, which mandates hard work regardless of how small Miami is. While the Spurs have the deeper bench, Miami's supporting cast has the higher ceiling, and if guys like Chalmers and Battier are able to get into consistent rhythms and make defensive impacts, San Antonio could be in trouble.

Having the most complete player in NBA history (let's just kill this "Potential G.O.A.T" talk and call him what he is) leading your team is obviously a significant advantage; a guy who can not only win a game by himself, but can do it in several ways simultaneously. Kawhi Leonard will spend the most time covering LeBron, but despite being an excellent defender, is ill-equipped to contain James on his own - a trait he shares with all humans. The Spurs' front line lacks that "lane-clogger" (think Roy Hibbert or Tyson Chandler) that's been so fatal to LeBron's penetration, which means he'll be much more comfortable going to the hoop off the dribble - which is by far when he's most dangerous. Send too many players towards a basket-bound King James, and Miami has enough spot-up shooters to rain threes all day; it's pick your poison (though the way they've shot it at times through these Playoffs, Pop might be able to swallow the latter). There's also his defensive presence; he could cover Duncan or Parker if needed, and won't be tested nearly as often by Leonard as the George/West combo, leaving him more in free-safety mode than the Spurs would like, especially against their pick-and-roll.

Miami will also have homecourt, which is massive for a team in a closely-matched series who plays as well at home as the Heat do. While South Beach residents have never been accused of being the most knowledgeable, dedicated, or enthusiastic NBA fans around, something has to be said for Miami's league-best record at the Triple-A, especially in Wade's case (what, like you wouldn't play with more confidence if you'd slept with Gabrielle Union the night before). The first two at home will be important tone-setters for a team that just came off a challenging series that shook its momentum severely; their ability to get back into their comfortable pace and push the Spurs will likely decide the outcome of this series.

San Antonio has plenty of intangibles playing to their edge, but the painful truth for them is that their ideal style of play caters too well to what Miami thrives in. The Spurs love to shoot 3s; Miami defends them extremely well. They love to abuse teams on the pick-and-roll, Miami has LeBron James. They love to bury defenses in the paint with Parker/Duncan help and move the ball several times for open shots, which Miami is probably better equipped to counter than any team in the NBA. On the other side of things, the Spurs don't have the size or all-around athletic toughness to bully the Heat like Indiana did; Miami did just get dragged to the edge of elimination, but again, by a team that's ideally built to defend them, and the only one to go all 7 rounds with them over their 3-peat as East Champs. What San Antonio also doesn't have - more to their demise - is LeBron James; a better player than in 2007, with a better team and a sharper killer instinct, which in this close of a matchup should be enough to keep Miami on the throne this season. Some things change, some things stay the same. Heat in 7.

The Rest of the Best: 2013 All-Star Reserves

I'm trying to stay ahead of the curve here; Banter's All-Star reserve ballot is being served up as a sequel to the starters before the coaches screwball everything and I have to write a column about why DeAndre Jordan is an All-Star.

First though, I've been taking some heat from a few readers about a couple of my selections as starters, namely Paul George over Dwyane Wade and Kobe Bryant getting "snubbed" by James Harden. I'll be the first to admit: I'm a huge hater of "reputation votes" and tried to find some underlying bias in these decisions, but still feel as though those two deserve to be there.

Through my jaded eyes, the All-Star game is a representation of the NBA season thus far, and should be an opportunity for the players who've defined it to be celebrated. It's not about who the better player is, it's about who has mattered more this season, that's George and Harden in this case. Let's travel back to the alternate universe where I decide the NBA All-Stars as I explain:

East Reserves

Dwyane Wade
Sure Dwyane Wade is a better player than Paul George, but Miami has been somewhat underwhelming at times this season, and never has it been more apparent that he's the second-best player on his team. Meanwhile, George's sudden eruption after their "franchise" guy went down and their "max" player couldn't cut it as a two-way focal point is the main reason Indiana's leading the Central. He's their leading scorer, gives them 8 rebounds/game from the 3-spot, and - on the League's #1 rated defensive team - is the most versatile, and probably best defender.

Kyrie Irving
Cleveland might be one of the NBA's worst teams, but Irving is without question one of its best young talents and belongs in the All-Star game not only on the merits of his stellar offensive play this season, but as an exciting, dynamic franchise talent that has loudly declared his arrival. There's only so much of a "his team's terrible" argument one can make to keep a player this skilled and - from the League's perspective -marketable out of the lineup (not that this should really influence things, but it's like Blake Griffin's nod as a rookie; it's good for the game).

Luol Deng
The answer to all of the following questions is: Luol Deng

Who is the only player in the NBA logging over 40 minutes/game? ____________

Who has been the best two-way player for a Bulls team that's pacing itself extremely well while their MVP heals up? _____________

Who is probably the most under-rated player in the entire League? ______________ (as evidenced by Shane Battier snaring more votes than him. Seriously)

Who unquestionably deserves a spot on this bench? ______________

There shouldn't really be any more questions.

Tyson Chandler
The 2nd-most important component to the Knicks' sudden dominance, Chandler has been a complete package, obviously defending at an All-World level while upping his scoring and leading the League in FG% by a simply astounding margin. There's an extremely valid case to be made that he should be starting, which even three years ago would've been an absurd notion. As late bloomers go, Chandler's been a stunning surprise, and yet another player Mark Cuban will likely eternally regret not re-signing.

Joakim Noah
Arguably as crucial to the Bulls' early success has been Noah's ever-consistent energy and defensive presence; he anchors an elite defense, disrupting everything around the basket with an irritating tenacity, and doing everything on offense excellently, save for actually putting the ball in the basket. Noah will likely never be a #2.... or 3 scoring option, but has increased his offensive production in Rose's absence, averaging career-highs in scoring and assists (as well as blocks and steals) to help fill the void.


Deron Williams
After some December faltering and Avery Johnson being taken out by Prokorov's elite squad of  covert-ops assassins, Brooklyn's new team has been reeling off some decent-to-impressive games, with Williams finally hitting shots and playing with the kind of swagger he used to show off in Utah before Sloangate. I don't think "over-rated" is the word, but as skilled as he is, it seems absurd that there was ever debate between him over Chris Paul.

Chris Bosh
The final spot on this roster came down to Bosh and Jrue Holiday, and while Holiday is in the midst of a breakout year that will put him in the thick of the MIP conversation all season, Kyrie Irving pretty much stole all his "awesome young point guard on a crappy team" thunder, and having the point guard of a 2nd sub-.500 team here seemed redundant. On the flipside, Bosh - a player who was never known for his toughness or versatility on defense - has manned up this season and spent most of his time effectively playing center, holding his own and producing impressively, while allowing Miami to maintain its optimal lineups. I rarely find room to compliment Bosh, but his and Dwyane Wade's contributions this season are the epitome of "less is more" in terms of the box score.

West Reserves

Kobe Bryant
So, about the whole Kobe thing: both Harden and Bryant are having amazing seasons, and that the Mamba is still doing it at this rate, at this age, is truly remarkable. But to me, this isn't even much of a question. Kobe's been visibly passive on D this year while still unloading on offense; a once-elite defender - the leader of these Lakers - selectively coasting to save energy for offense, on a team whose defensive issues have highlighted what is the most universally disappointing season of any NBA team. All Harden's done is put up similar numbers while still being a great defender, for a team with a better record and much less talent, who are performing above anyone's expectations largely because of him. I'm not sure what other than the weight of Kobe's name earns him the starter's nod, but here he is, an All-Star for the 482nd consecutive season.

Russell Westbrook
There's a lot of things you can say about Russell Westbrook, many of which used to be legitimately negative. As the seasons pass, those items are being steadily eradicated and have left us with the second-best point in the NBA this season. He's the most athletic guard in the League. He's a fearless competitor who plays hard every night (and I do mean every night; he hasn't missed a game in his career yet). He does many things at an elite level, always had the confidence to exert himself when needed, and is developing a much better sense of when to do so. He doesn't even turn the ball over that much anymore. He's a Top-10 player, helping to lead the NBA's best team this season. He's guaranteed not to mail in the All-Star Game and throw down 2 or 3 awesome dunks. Enough said. (for those of you who think I actually use dunks as All-Star criteria, I'm merely mentioning it as icing on the cake, honey on the blunt, chrome on the Bugatti, whatever lingo you like to use)

Blake Griffin
So, for those of you who thought this may have been some insane meta-joke by David Stern on his way out, the Clippers are actually awesome now, and Griffin's been his usual All-Star self. Though his numbers are down (on a team that's so deep their most legitimate rotation issue is finding minutes for everyone within the flow of the game) he's harnessing his athleticism and - especially on defense - playing with more control and focus. As for in-game dunk potential, well, when one's jaw-dropping poster shots have almost become redundant, one's presence in an event with defense as lazy as the All-Star Game is a must.

David Lee
Who needs Andrew Bogut? Lee's larger-than-life play for the surprise of the season makes him a must on the West bench. There's almost a certain algorithm at play here: ~20/10 Guy + Massively Over-Achieving Team + Playoff Solidification + Tough Conference - All-Star Caliber (when healthy) Center = All-Star Appearance. Easy math.

Zach Randolph
People thought Z-Bo was finished. People thought he couldn't be the same player after his injury. People were fucking wrong. Randolph has been the definition of a beast this season with his constant low-post assault of the basket and boards. He gives up quite a bit height and athleticism-wise to most NBA 4s, but makes up for it with raw hustle and pure positioning, leading all non-Dwights in rebounding and serving as the Grizzlies' go-to guy in a balanced attack.

Speaking of Dwight, you may notice he's not here, which I had brief second thoughts about, but don't really regret. Yes, he's been much more impressive over the past couple of weeks, but I haven't forgotten the first month and a half of the season when he was a complete shell of himself, nor can I look beyond the Lakers' utter dud of a campaign and honestly say they deserve a second player here. Sorry, but if the All-Star game is at all a "representation of the season thus far", the Lakers should be sweeping the floor on dead balls after they mowed down so many headlines, didn't hire Phil, and have sucked this much.

Stephen Curry
Like Lee, Curry has been lights-out for a Golden State team that's putting everyone's preseason predictions to shame, and most of the Western Conference on watch. He scores nearly at will, is one of the NBA's most underrated playmakers, and makes up for any size he gives up on D with lightning lateral quickness. The freedom he's been afforded in the backcourt this year without Monta Ellis has allowed him to truly find his role, and leaving no doubt that his team kept the right man.

LaMarcus Aldridge
Honestly, this feels like a bit of a freeroll since Kevin Love's knuckle pushups are the only reason this spot's available to begin with, but lost amidst the shuffling storylines and franchise-altering injuries, is the reality that the Blazers are above .500 in the West, and shallower than Kim Kardashian. Lamarcus Aldridge is still really, really good, and giving this team's fans just one reason not to hang themselves. So for trucking it out, being consistently awesome, and not making the slightest bit of pretentious media rumble about your team's long-term predicament, this spot's all yours Mr. Aldridge. See ya in Houston.