More Than A Game

Game 7 between the Spurs and the Clippers last night was so many things:

It was an injustice. I joked about it on Facebook but an event of this magnitude - a Game 7 between arguably 2 of the NBA's 3 best teams - deserved it own spotlight. The fact that it took place merely as an opening act to the most anticipated boxing match ever downplayed its significance.

(it was also just generally unfair that these two teams had to face each other in the first round but I digress)

It was brutally competitive. A back-and-forth exchange of haymakers between two giants who refused to go down. To hell with Mayweather/Pacquiao, this was a fight.

It was an arrival. This might have been the biggest win in Clippers' franchise history, which isn't saying much seeing as it's the first round and all. There's an ongoing narrative about how Chris Paul's never been to the Conference Finals, but little to no discussion of how the Clippers franchise hasn't either. Not in their days in L.A., San Diego, or as the Buffalo Braves. Not once. Bagging the defending champs was a breakthrough for this team.

It was whatever the exact opposite of an anticlimax is. Last year's first round was an incredible onslaught of awesome, filled with overtimes, Game 7s, and stuff like this.This year's was a bland abyss of short series and blowouts, ironically punctuated by an unforgettable battle.


It was a fitting conclusion to this series. These teams traded leads and advantages like they were
Pokemon Cards, going back and forth with pendulum-like consistency. Game 7 epitomized that.

It was a shock. The Spurs looked so fucking good after the All-Star break. As they do every year, they timed their peak perfectly and forced everyone to remember "OK, this is the Spurs, of course they're still for real". And just like that, they're gone.

It was an absolutely heroic display by Chris Paul. Playing through obvious pain for most of the game, he dominated on one leg and turned in a signature career performance, along with an iconic game-winner.

It was a valiant effort in defeat by Tim Duncan. Playing on one leg for the entire series, Duncan was surgical down the stretch of Game 7, partying like it was 1999. At 39 years old, he's barely lost a step. It may well have been his last NBA game, but let's all hope not.

It was a confounding display from Kawhi Leonard, who went 5-13 on the heels of 3-15 from the floor in Game 6. With Tony Parker not himself, it was that much more crucial for Kawhi to be a force offensively, and after starting the series on fire, he burned out down the stretch.

It was an emotional paint-shaker for any fan of these teams or the game of basketball. There were plenty of these moments:

But even more of these:

And for once Steve Ballmer wasn't alone in his excitement hyperbole. Because Clippers-Spurs Game 7 was one of the best basketball games ever played.

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.

Breaking Down the $15 Dream Team Meme

In an age where you can't even get a pair of drinks at most bars for as much, $15 suddenly can buy you a starting lineup of NBA legends.

If you're an NBA fan who spends anywhere beyond a moderate amount of time on the internet, then you've no doubt encountered this inquisitive meme (or one like it), imploring you to hatch a literal All-Time Dream Team - only under a pretty stringent salary cap.

I have mixed feelings about these things, but have been confronted with them enough, especially this week - in an NBA Facebook group I frequent, on the website I write for, all over Twitter - that I've succumbed to the exposure. While the result is ultimately just another blurb in an endless line of fruitless Internet debates, it's a new spin on an idea that every fan has toyed with from time to time. Only its execution leaves a lot to be desired:

Conceptually it's kind of vague. I tend to over-think things, but it's hard for me to look at something like this and not ponder; "Are we getting these guys at their peaks, or as aggregates of their careers?", "Is this for one game? A Playoff series? A whole Playoffs? A season? Longer?", "Are we playing under today's NBA rules?" (ex; West has a 3-point line, Hack-A-Wilt is deployed regularly, and Jordan can feast on defenses that can't hand-check him), and so on. Maybe its intent was intentionally open-ended in that regard, but as with the NBA's award voting, this mostly just leads people to misinterpretation.

Things are further muddled by the rankings, especially at the four-spot. Advanced apologies to whoever created this, but anyone who honestly believes Karl Malone is the best power forward ever is either grossly misinformed, or in the intermediate stages of mental decay.

That the consensus best all-timer (Duncan) is in the middle of the scale at $3, murders the whole position's equity, and makes it hard to give much benefit of doubt to the other questionable price rankings (Erving over Durant, Drexler over Wade, Kareem over Russell, and basically the entire PF position.)

Furthermore, this system works on the flawed assumption that the value margins at every position are similar; that, for example, the power forward and center positions carry equal weight - Duncan would likely be the only PF in the Top-5 if those two groups merged - or that Michael Jordan should have the same price as any other player.

Be that as it may, I'm giving it a shot nonetheless, assuming that I'm drafting the player during his prime, for a Playoff series vs. this theoretical Draft Pool's 'B' Team, under current NBA rules. I'm also proceeding with the Power Forward rankings hesitantly; if someone's offering me Garnett for 1/5th Malone's price, I'm mildly petrified that it's the 2014 version.

With such a talent pool, you'd have to try pretty hard to spend $15 and screw this Draft up; it's kind of like playing the CPU on easy in 2K14. There's arguments to be made for a number of selection strategies; really these are the All-Time Greats, not the 2013 NBA Entry Class, you could shoot blindfolded and still come out OK.

THE DRAFT:

The obvious first move is to take Jordan (= $10 left). He's not only the best payer available at a capped price, but a must-leader for this team as a legendary competitive maniac. Bill Russell is the only player in NBA history to register on his level in that regard; every favorable team from this Draft should have one of those two guys.

I wanted to ensure that strong-to-elite defenders lined every position. If these guys are taking on a similar squad, there's no hiding anyone on D, and far less room for lapses. Several players here are spotty defenders, making them instant scratches (sorry, Dirk). I also leaned towards athleticism, versatility and intangibles in close calls; it's the small things that count big when the margins are slim.

Next up, I'm filling the other backcourt slot with Walt Frazier (= $9 left), an immense value at just $1, as a versatile offensive threat and, by reputation, the best defender of the PGs here. In a perfect World, having John Stockton as uber-facilitator on a team this stacked would be ideal, but Frazier is the more athletic option, and saving on him will allow me to splurge later.

Durant at the 3-spot (= $7 left). Just too great of a value at $2, and a perfect fit for a team where Jordan/Frazier figure to be ball-dominant. Playing alongside Russell Westbrook for the past few years, KD's grown accustomed to working with fewer touches, yet still finds ways to score at mind-warping rates. He'll stretch the floor, can contain anyone he's matched up with, and is among the least egomaniacal guys you could put on a team like this.

As noted, I consider the Power Forward rankings are wildly unfair. I'd also see it as unfair if I walked into Best Buy and they offered me a 70" TV for $300, but I'd likely take them up on the offer. As such, I've gotta steal Tim Duncan (= $4 left), again the best defender - not to mention best player - at the position. Timmy can operate effectively in the low or high post, slide to center if needed, and won more titles in first two seasons than the guys frivolously valued higher than him did in their entire careers.

That leaves me with 4 bucks to drop on Bill Russell, who would team with Jordan to form a yin-yang of ultimate competitive fire. Both were pathological winners, and enabled that desire to permeate to their teammates, only Russell's was administered through brotherhood and sacrifice, as opposed to Jordan's respect and outright fear. I'm steadfastly convinced that no team with Jordan, Russell, and three other all-timers could lose here, especially under the assumption that  this isn't Street Fighter, and drafting them would prevent my team from facing them.

Russ was no slouch as a ballplayer either, though his brilliance has been distorted by the decades since his career, and the lack of extensive video from his era. I've seen painfully few of his games; most of my knowledge of him comes through stats, archives, and anecdotes. But the unanimous verdict (I've never heard a dissenting opinion from an analyst or former player) is that his skills and athleticism were years ahead of their time, and that Russell stood alone as a teammate and winner.


Picture a cross between Serge Ibaka, Joakim Noah and Dennis Rodman, giving him all of their best traits while supplanting none of the bad. On steroids. He was by all accounts the greatest defender who ever lived, and a heavily underrated offensive player, who valued involving teammates over scoring himself, in stark contrast to many big men of his era (as a result, he won 11 titles in 13 seasons, also in stark contrast to many big men of his era). His facilitator mentality from the post would be vital to a roster with so much firepower, and if you thought Duncan formed a strong post-passing corps with Diaw and Splitter, these guys would be levels beyond.

He rounds out a unit that features the (most likely) best defender available at four of five positions, and while you can't expect to shut a team down in an All-Time All-Star Game, this is a devastating lineup on D, and would make life tough on anyone at times. They'd be deadly both in the halfcourt, and an uptempo, transition-style game, and have formidable length across the entire front line. No Easy Buckets.

Again, this mostly boils down to Russell and Jordan though. In a debate as abstract and complex as this one, it's easy to over-complicate things, delve into convoluted hypothetical matchups and synergies, and forget the basics: That these two on their own had impermeable wills to win, and that even against the top-tier opposition from this Draft, many of whom were denied championships at their hands, they'd likely be just as unstoppable together.

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.

My 2013 All Star Ballot

Voting for the NBA All-Stars is always a painful process for me.

While it only takes a couple of minutes, and doesn't cost a penny, it's an attempt to put forth an honest assessment of the NBA season so far; casting a vote for the players I truly feel deserve to be there, that generally represents a flawed system. I know any attempt to have the most deserving players in the game will be bastardized.

See, anyone with a rational understanding of basketball and/or politics knows that NBA All-Star voting is no less a popularity contest than a 5th Grade class president election. Fans of all ages, exposures to the game, and levels of bias/education/intelligence have a say as to who starts (as it technically should be in any democracy) but it all too often sees the wrong players donning the All-Star threads (for dramatic examples see Ming, Yao and Carter, Vincent Lamar).

To make matters worse, both fans and coaches (who vote for reserves and often suffer from the same bias/ineptitude issues) were shackled by position restrictions that mandated the inclusion of dubious players. Thankfully, the League has spared us the Jamal Magloire Experience this year and abandoned the forced inclusion of centers, finally realizing that evolving athleticism has almost caught up with size and a lot of their best players aren't big men anymore.

While this revelation takes some of the pain away, it still numbs my brain to know that 218,246 people think Kevin Garnett deserves to be starting (as he likely will be), and Ray Allen has the 5th-most votes of any guard in the East. Before I vomit all over my keyboard and can't write the rest of this, let's get to the rational side of the argument (I know mine's just an opinion too, but at least it's thought out and backed up), Banter's 2013 All-Star Ballot:

EAST

Lebron James
I'll get the obvious one out of the way after Lebron spent 2012 jamming his size 17 signature Nikes down every hater in the World's throat and shows no signs of his reign ending anytime soon, now that he's shooting 3's at a 40%+ clip and looking even more unguardable. He's done settling the "best player on Earth" status, so while he works on the "best of all time" spot, he's a lock for this game.

Carmelo Anthony
Aside from a certain incident involving a bus and some Honey Nut Cheerios, 'Melo's been everything the skeptical masses demanded from him coming into this season from a basketball standpoint. He's still scoring at an All-World rate, but within the flow of his team's offense and not to the detriment of New York's win total, which is higher at this point in the season than it's been since Patrick Ewing was in town. It was a given that fans would be voting him in anyway, but unlike last year, Anthony has a positive leader on an East contender, making his place here well-earned.

Josh Smith
There were several deserving big men for this spot (Tyson Chandler and Joakim Noah most notably) but consider my inclusion of three swing forwards in the East's frontcourt as a slight "Fuck You" to the NBA for the years lacking centers appearing in this game. Smith was a deserving candidate last year, but had his spot given to his own overrated teammate by the coaches. Now that Joe Johnson's being paid too much money by another team, Smith has singled himself out as the biggest reason why Atlanta's performing at a level above last season, and everyone's expectations. He's an all-around beast of an athlete who stuffs stat sheets like few others and will be good for at least a few jaw-droppers when he makes his first All-Star appearance (keep in mind this guy tried to do a between-the-legs dunk in a playoff game once).

Paul George
Speaking of athletic stat-stuffers, George has come into his own this year as the bona-fide Man on the Pacers. Long-considered their most talented player, PG's rise was somewhat hesitant after Danny Granger went down and left a scoring void that he was capable of filling, but hadn't been called upon to at the pro level. When it became apparent that newly-minted Max-Man Roy Hibbert wasn't getting the job done, George came out in beast mode, not only filling the scoring void, but doing just about everything for the Pacers, who still lead the Central despite the absence of their most accomplished player. George has been a capable scorer from inside and out, and will only become more dangerous as his confidence grows, showing enough stride over the past couple months to reduce Indiana's former All-Star swingman to trade bait.

Rajon Rondo
Stat-padding aside, Rondo's been by far the best point guard in the East so far this season, and although it's becoming apparent he'll likely never be a consistent outside threat or decent free-throw shooter, he affects the game in so many other ways that borderline on dominance. His awkward effectiveness is only heightened by the fact that he both looks and plays like an extra-terrestrial, but there's no denial of his being elite on both sides of the ball, and though Boston's typical early-season quagmire's been murky this year, Rondo still has to be here.

WEST 

Tim Duncan
The Spurs are again defiantly staring Father Time in the face, rocking a top-3 record in the West and looking every bit like the legit Title threat we've learned not to count them out as. At the forefront of this (all respect due to Tony Parker) has been Duncan's trademark methodical brilliance, which to still be doing at his age, after so many deep playoffs runs, is just remarkable. There really isn't much to go on about here, Duncan's been an elite NBA player for longer than most of us can vividly remember, and his regulated-minutes numbers are incredible for one of the League's most dangerous teams. He's blocking 2.6 shots/game this year. In 30 mins. At age 36. Seriously.

Kevin Durant
One of two no-brainers in the West, Durant has been playing above adjectives as OKC shook off the sudden James Harden trade, started completely obliterating teams at Durant's whim, and now look like the favorites in June. He's taken his D to another level and is fucking with the offensive Holy Grail of .50/.40/.90. If you cast a ballot that didn't have his name on it, you should try watching curling, you're not a basketball fan.

Marc Gasol
Either Gasol or Zach Randolph had to be here, and choosing between the two was relatively difficult. It ultimately came down to Gasol's versatility: he's a capable scorer who's also the best playmaking big man in the NBA and the backbone of a defense that ranks near the top of every major stat category league-wide. Randolph might be Memphis' go-to guy in the clutch, and he's a couple of monster nights that have single-handedly won them games, but Gasol's subtle brilliance is more important to the Grizzlies in an all-around sense, and the once-infamously one-sided trade that saw him swapped for his brother has been re-written.

Chris Paul
As increasingly difficult as it is to wrap my head around the concept that the Los Angeles Clippers have the 2nd-best record in the NBA, there should be little doubt in the ability of this young man to bring out the best in even the most historically flawed franchise in pro sports. Paul's credentials really don't need to be repeated; he's by a wide margin the League's best quarterback, and his presence gave the stingiest billionaire in the World enough confidence to invest in this team and provide a pleasant contrast to the depressing mess going on with LA's other team.

James Harden
The irony is that BY FAR the toughest decision on this ballot was choosing between Harden and his former OKC running mate, Russell Westbrook. The reality is that Harden has been an absolute monster on Houston so far, completely justifying his unwillingness to take less money from the Thunder by proving himself  as an elite 2-way player that a franchise can build around; exactly the kind of player Houston had been trying to land for years, and the only reason they'll be challenging for a playoff spot down the stretch. The further irony, of course, being that after several seasons of All-Star searching after Tracy McGrady and Yao Ming drifted away, Rockets fans will get to see Harden rep their team in the big game on their home floor.

How The West Was Won: WCF Preview

This was supposed to be a thrilling postseason: An all-out battle royale, with no de-facto favorite, poised to go down as the best spring of basketball us hoops junkies almost never had. Unfortunately, by the end of its first game, a rare Tom Thibodeau coaching blunder had rendered one Conference nearly obsolete for weeks, and left much of the focus where we'd grown accustomed to having it: The West.

Fittingly, because emerging from that bracket are the two teams playing unquestionably the best ball right now; the two that many see hoisting the Larry O in the very near future. The Spurs and Thunder have taken two distinctly different paths to this Western Conference Final, and their convergence pits two different styles of basketball against each other: it's youth vs. experience, athleticism vs. IQ, momentum vs. discipline, star power vs. depth, Jedis vs. The Empire, you get the idea...

There's so many things going on that will make this series compelling: Not only are the Thunder vying to keep up with the ridiculously fast pace they've set for themselves by breaking through to the Finals, the Spurs are on the cusp of something truly inconceivable, threatening to win a fifth title in 13 seasons with Duncan/Pop, which in terms of longevity of dominance, is simply unmatched in modern-era team sports.

Beyond that, Kevin Durant and Tim Duncan are at very important crossroads in their respective legacies. This is bar none the most important series of Durant's career, and he has the right mix of talent and swagger to make this his moment now that his team's supposed to be the favorite. I say "supposed to" because, let's face it, San Antonio was nowhere near the Title picture a few months ago, and their presence here is the ultimate testament to Popovich and Duncan's brilliance (sure, Parker's been their best player this year, but make no mistake, Timmy D still leads this team). If Duncan cops the full fist of rings, it will only elevate his rank in the NBA's All-Time Pantheon (word to Bill Simmons), and truly render his status as the best power forward ever inarguable (if it isn't already).

On paper, this series figures to be a lot about the point guards, which is probably deceiving. Parker and Westbrook are two amazing players who are going to make huge contributions, but if you're expecting a duel between them to swing things, you're in for disappointment. Not only will their contributions likely come close to cancelling each other out in the run of things, but despite Westbrook's stubbornness and desire for revenge (after Tony dropped 42 on him), odds are they'll spend little time matched up. With other defensively-apt guards who probably match up better on D, it would make sense for both players to save energy (and fouls) not chasing the other around all series. Instead, look for the West Finals to be defined by:

Kevin Durant - OK, so this is kind of obvious. Not only is he the best player in this series, but the Spurs have absolutely no answer for him offensively. He can expect a Kawhi Leonard-led bevy of defensive schemes, and generally better team contention than he faced vs. LA. But what Durant needs to do in this series, is take the fuck over; channel his inner Kobe and unleash. San Antonio has depth on this team for days, and their true edge lies with KD. I fear for his inability to grab the wheel of what Westbrook will surely see as his own moment; they've come this far with things falling into place, but it might be time for Durant to put them there.

Tim Duncan - Timmy was kept fresh as possible for the playoffs through the unusually dense regular season, and it's showing. He's been awesome, and as intimidating as the Thunder's post D might be, Duncan's pretty much a nightmare matchup for them: a guy who's very comfortable posting up away from the hoop, with a complete arsenal of moves, and smart enough to pass out of Ibaka's lurking help coverage. If he can pick his spots when he's forced into the trenches and avoid getting Gasol'd like in last year's first round, Timmy could give OKC all kinds of problems.

James Harden's Beard - As brilliant as Harden's been this season (and really, on a historical level, you're talking Ginobili and McHale who've had better seasons in the 6thMOY's history) this will be his ultimate test,  because his ability to quell San Antonio's depth might be the most important factor in this series. Even if Durant doesn't give them 30+ per, OKC can still win if Harden does what Harden does, and calmly counter-acts the Jax/Manu combo that Thabo Sefolosha just can't balance out both ways. There's really no reason to expect he won't, but like Durant, Harden's consistent brilliance might have to even find another gear the way the Spurs are playing right now, which brings us to....

Gregg Popovich - This man is a genius. It doesn't get highlighted enough, but any coach in the League right now is at an automatic disadvantage against him. He's quite comfortably the best X n O's guy in the NBA, and the united, unselfish mentality he imparts upon his players produces maximum on-court efficiency. There's a reason why the Spurs have excelled for so long with the same core in place and a revolving door of players around them; Pop finds the right talent, who will buy into their system, and constructs a near-flawless gameplan based on the skills in front of him. He will outsmart Scott Brooks at several points during every game of this series, and there's very little to be done about it. He's the Bill Belichick of basketball - only he doesn't cheat. And he gives the best post-game presser ever. I'd pay more money than I have to talk ball over beers with him for an hour, only I know there's no chance he could be bothered to.

The Pick & Roll - Both of these teams thrive on it; one of them defends it very well. OKC will be at a decided disadvantage with Ibaka defending high screens - despite his fearsome low-post presence, his quickness/orientation will be exposed in those sets, while the Spurs need only worry about Durant's length on switches (but when is Durant's length ever not an issue?) and Westbrook's explosiveness (again, pretty much unavoidable). If Ibaka spends too much time stranded on high screens, look for Nick Collison's minutes to spike, because you know San Antonio's going to be executing flawlessly.

The X-Factors - Benches: Critical in any series, but in this one more than most. The Spurs can go ten deep with capable scorers, and OKC well...can't. It's going to take not only an impressive effort from Harden to balance the scales, but airtight defense around the hoop. There's going to be a lot of onus on Collison to defend Duncan/Diaw, as Perkins is too slow for them, and Ibaka's too hyperactive. At the same time, all OKC's bigs are going to have to rotate well against arguably the best-passing corps of big men in the League, and be prepared for relentless attacking from Parker, and to a lesser extent Ginobili. Kawhi Leonard and Action Jackson are likewise going to have to defend Kevin Durant very well; he's long, he's quick, he's the best clutch scorer in the NBA (and it's not even close let's not kid ourselves) and the momentous dynasty-toppling wave he's riding right now has a Jordan-esque series written all over it if they're not top-notch.

All considered, there seems to be too much going San Antonio's way for me to bet against them. True, they haven't demolished opposition of a quality quite like OKC's so far this spring, but the Spurs aren't some untested, volatile squad that's going to lose its shit if they split at home. They're too composed, too deep, too thorough, to have the wheels come off in any significant way. The Thunder are certainly capable of pulling off what I can't really call an upset, but it seems like there's a few more ifs on their side of the equation. Regardless, this should be one hell of a good series, and I'm hoping for the potential of something memorable to deliver, so with my heart and my head: Spurs in 7.