Thursday, June 27, 2013

Missed it by that much



Tuesday night in the College World Series, UCLA beat Mississippi State 8 – 0 to win the NCAA baseball championship.  I don’t think the losing team and their fans are going to have nightmares about the result.  Yes, Mississippi State’s players and fans will be very disappointed, but they won’t wake up in the middle of the night thinking about a bad-hop grounder, a missed call by an umpire, or a decision to throw a curve instead of a fastball.  They got their butts kicked, and they know it.

The Spurs didn’t get their butts kicked, and the Heat know it was a classic and close battle.  You want proof?  The total points scored by the teams over 7 games – Spurs 721, Heat 720.  Even in Game 7, which ultimately was a seven point “blow-out”, the Spurs could have gone up 1 with 1:25 left if Kawhi Leonard made his 3, and could have tied it with 47 seconds left if Duncan made a lay-up he had made 1000 times before.  The bad news – the nightmares.  Especially for Tim Duncan.  “Missed it by that much” is funny in Get Smart, not so funny when it is the difference between two completely different narratives about this series.

Also not as funny as The Cone of Silence – that always cracked me up.  For those of you too young to remember:

The Cone of Silence is one of many recurring joke devices from Get Smart, an American comedytelevision series of the 1960s about an inept spy.
Invented by "Professor Cone", the device is designed to protect the most secret of conversations (aka "C.O.S. security risks") by enshrouding its users within a transparent sound-proof shield. Unfortunately, Control had purchased the device from a "discount place" rather than the federal government, so it has never worked properly. Naturally, this frustrating situation provides fuel for comedy.
Whenever Maxwell Smart ("Agent 86") wants to speak to his boss ("Chief") about a top secret matter, "86" would insist on using the comically defective technology despite being reminded that it never works. The Chief, usually with annoyed skepticism, would press a switch, causing the device to descend from above his desk, surrounding the heads of the two would-be conversers. The awkwardly impractical device appears to be constructed of clear plastic in the shape of a large oblong box with two interconnected inverted bowls on top.
Part of the humor is in the irony that Agent 86 and Chief cannot hear each other clearly, while bystanders outside the Cone of Silence can hear everything they say as well as speak to them. Sometimes the bystander would even act as a relay so that Chief and "86" inside the device could communicate. Often at the end of the labored conversation, Chief would become terribly frustrated and upset as it quickly becomes clear that the Cone of Silence is (as expected) worse than useless. In one episode, when Smart was questioned as to why he insisted on using the Cone, he responded that it was 20 degrees cooler inside.
Variations on the Cone included a portable version, made of two globes for the participants' heads connected by a tube; the "Umbrella of Silence", which supported up to four people, and the "Closet of Silence," into which three people were uncomfortably squeezed. In one occasion where the Cone wasn't even available, Smart convinced the Chief to use the (more efficient) "Coughing Code", where both parties communicate through strategic coughing, despite the Chief's claims that the Coughing Code wasn't used for years due to "too many agents giving each other colds".

Anyway, the point is that losing close hurts more than losing by a lot.  And losing close and badly, like the Spurs did in both Game Six and Game 7, really hurts.  And it also makes the analysis more interesting.  The UCLA – Mississippi State analysis is easy, and boring.  Here, then, is my analysis in this, the final fake blog of this season.  As always, I try to point out stuff that others haven’t noted at all, or haven’t emphasized enough. I will also take advantage of some keen insight from terrific fake blog readers.  Here goes:
1.      By games 6 and 7, the Spurs could no longer push the ball up court.  One of the live look-ins into the Spurs huddle in Game 5 was Pop telling the Spurs to run it up their backs, even after made baskets.  Probably because of Parker’s injury, that pace didn’t happen in either of the last two games.

2.      Probably as a result of point 1, the Spurs assist to basket ratio went to hell.  In the first 5 games of the series, the Spurs had assists on 60% of their baskets, including 68% of their baskets in Game 5 (the Manu game).  In Game 5, the Spurs had 25 assists.  In Games 6 and 7, the Spurs had a total of 26 assists in the two games – and only 38% of their total baskets.  Because (1) they were not pushing the ball at every opportunity, (2) Parker was not explosive off the screen and roll and couldn’t make a jumper, and (3) the Heat were not doubling and were not allowing Danny Green open looks, the Spurs were forced to go one and one – and it wasn’t working nearly as well. 

3.      Interestingly, the Heat’s assist/basket ratio also dropped.  After being between 50% and 68% in the first 6 games, it fell to 39% in the final game.  Which makes sense if you look back at it – the Heat scored primarily when Lebron or Wade faced up on their guys, and made jumpers off the dribble.  As a result, the Heat had only 14 assists in the final game, after never having less than 20 in any of the first 6 games.  And 6 of those assists in Game 7 went to one guy – Battier – who made six 3s without dribbling the ball once.

4.      One other thing people didn’t comment on about Game 7 – just as in Game 6, Miami almost folded down the stretch.  After DWade put them up 5 with a lay-up with 3 minutes left, the Heat did not score for the next 2 ½ minutes!  But after Duncan’s missed post move that would have tied it, Lebron made a jumper to put the Heat up 4 with 27 seconds left, and that was all she wrote.  Would he have made it if the score was tied instead?

5.      Speaking of not getting assists on passes to shooters, Tar Heel legend and lefty sharpshooter Bob Bennett called it immediately after Game 5 – and in particular, this spot-on analysis of former Tar Heel Danny Green:
And Danny Green can't handle the ball and isn't a good passer. He doesn't penetrate well enough to keep the defense honest and isn't quick. Guard him close and he wouldn't get open shots at all.
Turns out the Heat must have been monitoring this fake blog (or they enlisted the NSA which is monitoring all emails).  The Heat did exactly what Bob feared.  The Heat guarded Green closely, and he went 1 for 7 in Game Six and a John Starks-like 1 for 12 in Game 7.  Of course, Scottie was happy, since with Green cooling down, the warp coils did not overheat, and the Enterprise survived.
6.      NBA Championships are often decided by injuries.  At various times through the years, the Celtics lost or didn’t make the Finals partially because of injuries to McHale and Bird, the Pistons lost because of injuries to Dantley and evil Isiah Thomas, and the Lakers lost because of injuries to McAdoo, Worthy, Magic and Scott.  This year, the Thunder lament the loss of Westbrook.  In this series, if the Heat had lost, DWade’s bad knee would have been a factor.  For the Spurs, Tony Parker clearly was not the same after the hamstring injury.  You may not remember, but he said that if this injury happened in the regular season, he would have been out 10 days minimum.  And it showed.  In Games Six , Parker was 6 for 23, and in Game 7, 3 for 12.  This from someone who shot 52% in the regular season.  In some ways, Game 7 was more telling since he wasn’t even able to get shots off to miss them.  Which is probably why Pop sat him at several key times.

7.      Ah, the Big Three.  And I am not talking about Kirk, Spock and McCoy.  Or the Holy Trinity.  If the latter, Voldemort/Bosh would be the Holy Ghost – I wrote at halftime of Game 7 “Where is Bosh?”.  I later figured out he was showing solidarity with the Heat “fans” who left early in Game Six and weren’t allowed back in the gym.  Served them right.  After the game, Voldemort said those fans should stay home for Game 7 – and he then did the same.  Zero points, 5 fouls.  I don’t know if this is a record, and it probably is, but the Heat had two starters, Voldemort and Miller, who went scoreless in a Game 7 their team won.

8.      And the hero of Game Six, Ray Allen, also went scoreless in Game 7, something pointed out byWisconsin cheese head and all-around good guy Brian Appel:
One nit I’d like to pick.  Ray Allen may very well be the best three point shooter in history statistically, but I’ve always felt that title missed the words “during the first three quarters.”  Not a clutch guy at all and the big shot he made the other night was the first clutch shot I remember him making.  I would love to know his fourth quarter stats in playoff games relative to his stats in the first three quarters, and would love to know his overall and fourth quarter stats in deciding games.  In fact, I believe that he did not score a point in Game 7.

9.      That being said, here is Allen after his game-tying, legacy-saving 3, referring to the premature setting up of ropes in prep for the Spurs ring ceremony  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DjChqJvY4SA&feature=player_embedded


10.  One apology from me.  After Scoreless Mike Miller made that stupid 3 in Game Six while wearing only one shoe, in my Game Six fake blog I called it a Dr. Seuss shot – but I referred to it as “having one shoe and one shoe off”, leaving out the “on”.  Damn, that would have been funny if I did it right:  “One shoe on, one shoe off”.  I was, or course, harkening back to “My shoe is off. My foot is cold. I have a bird I like to hold.”   Dr. SeussOne Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish   For those who missed it, here is Miller’s Dr. Seuss shot:



11.   My Man Manu is rightfully getting a hard time for his 8 turnovers in Game 6, followed by 4 in Game 7.  What is especially bad is that he entered the fourth quarter of Game 7 with no turnovers – and I probably jinxed him by mentioning that fact when I checked the box score going into the fourth.  My bad.  If Manu does retire, and I hope he doesn’t, we will miss passes that only Manu would think of throwing – like this one:  http://i.imgur.com/8FEMmy4.gif

12.   I don’t normally link to entire articles, but just this once. Joe Posnanski’s excellent (and fairly short) take on my Man Manu, though it misses one key fact – how hard the guy plays:

13.   Unfortunately, Manu is going the way of all athletes – aging.  As aptly described by Haverford College soccer great and astute basketball observer Phil Zipin, perhaps channeling Manu’s plight:

I played this morning. Guarded a 20 something kid with ups, speed, and in a lot better shape than me.  Not fun for me.  Afterwards, as I sat on the bench, exhausted, I said "I can play lousy defense or I can play lousy offense.  But I can't do both."  

             Phil’s line is funnier than my personal favorite fake blog moment:

MCCOY:  Jim, I hate to say it, but old pointy ears is right this time. Manu’s game stinks so bad it would knock a buzzard off a shit wagon.
KIRK:  You are right about that.  Bones, is Manu injured?
MCCOY:  Dammit, Jim, I am a doctor, not a…  uh, actually, I can answer that.  He’s fine.  Just old.


14.   So until next year’s Finals, which I can positively say might be between the Heat, Pacers or Bulls from the East and the Thunder, Grizzlies, or Spurs from the West.  The Spurs aren’t dead?  Not if Green adds another dimension to his game, Kawhi Leonard keeps up his Finals pace (22/11 in Game Six, 19/16 in Game 7), Parker stays healthy, and Boris Diaw does the Duncan diet this summer. And they may need to keep Splitter, to spell Duncan during the season, and defend Roy Hibbert in the 2014 NBA Finals – you read it here first.

15.   In the meantime, I will spend the dog days of summer thinking back on my favorite NBA memories.  This list grew out of a question from masters division hoops multi-time champion Steve Carlston about my favorite players.  In my lawyerly way, I instead answered the question I wanted to answer – about favorite memories.  Like these:

Coop in a defensive stance, Stephen Curry looking for any opening to shoot a 3, Horry spotting up in the last minute of a playoff game, Kyle Korver running around 4 screens to get free for a catch and shoot 3, Kobe leading an improbable comeback, Manu sprinting back to defense after a wacky drive, Magic in the middle dishing this way – no, that way, Nash dancing around a ball screen, DFish bellying up on a guy bigger faster quicker and more talented, Jerry West dribbling hard right and pulling up for a jumper, Walton rebounding and outletting, Wilt finger-rollingParker tear-dropping, Rick Barry underhanding, Bosh bricking, Earl the Pearl spin-dribbling, Pistol Pete behind-the-back passing, Kevin Durant nothing-but-netting, Chick Hearn hyper-ventilating, Worthy baseline spinning, Duncan blocking a shot and controlling it, Stockton pocket passing and, yes, Lebron chasing down a seemingly uncontested breakaway lay-up.  

Yes, these are a few of my favorite things.  So is writing this fake blog.  Thanks again for following along.

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