Spreading the Wealth

People have alternatively decried and celebrated the increasing use of the spread offense in the college game, and there can be little doubt that this use has had a powerful impact on the pro game. A much bandied about stat has been that NE used the shotgun on more than half its plays last year and every team employed a shotgun three WR set. This is all fine and good, but aside from pulling offense away from the center (to the left I suppose), what has been the effect of the spread in college on the pro game.

I believe that what we have seen, more than anything else, is a revolution in the RB position. A back who would have been considered by every measure a speed back only 5 years ago, AD, is now planted firmly in the soil of the power game. More tellingly though, is the increasing presence of guys who would have been tracked as DBs in college, or from RB to DB in the college to pro transition. Jonathan Stewart, Steve Slaton, Chris Johnson have far more in common with Pacman than last wave of great backs from Bettis to Eddie George. Now an argument can certainly be made that backs like Marshall Faulk and Barry Sanders argue against this as a new trend, yet these guys are known far more for shiftiness than breakaway speed. Even the top guys, with bigger builds, in this past draft, McFadden and F.Jones, thrived not in pound it out style but rather as turn the corner guys in college.

In terms of strategy I think this trend will have the effect of eliminating the FB from the game, with the blocking back being aided by offensive deception teams will employ running threats as blockers out of one back sets, and spread offenses and check downs as the hedge against stacking the line in short yardage situations.

Not much of this is entirely new thinking, but the trend is important to identify, and my prediction is that this year will be the year that speed out of the backfield becomes a major talking point.

Anamesos

I’m ramping up for the NFL, and detesting this coming weekend when I’ll be busy studying for an exam while college football unrolls. So, in what is by now a personal tradition, I’m taking between lecture breaks to jot shit down in the hope of coherence at worst and insight at best.

There is so much to say about Olympics basketball, how sweet it is that that final game was competitive, how sweet it is that the Basketball seems to be on track for a European Football like international groundswell, how sweet it is that in that rosy future the ones playing the beautiful game come not from the South but from our own fertile soils, or maybe how sweet it is that we will see the best players from the USA play together more than once a decade.

But I don’t want to discuss any of that. What I want to do is use the Olympics as a lens through which posturing and the unbearable weight of career expectations are filtered out, leaving only the stark, naked reality of individual ability and basketball acumen; in the context of playing with the best I think we can see more clearly now than ever before what each player means. With no further ado:

Kobe: This guy is stone cold killer, the way he dominated, and successfully, at the end of the second Spain game was memorable. But the deeper truth is that it may very well be that Kobe is nothing more than an assassin, an ace to be played when kings are showing. Kobe requires a cast to put him in position to unleash his arsenal, while in ordinary circumstances he struggles to chain his indomitable offensive potential to the shackles of a team game.

Lebron: Although it is the ultimate injustice to Lebron to say that Mo Williams might be the one to prove me right, King James is the most gifted player on earth and can elevate the talent of anyone, anyone, around him. To be able to make the best players in the world better is the ultimate compliment. He’ll get his when it’s needed, but he had more astonishing passes over the course of the tournament than Paul and Kidd combined. And when the dude drives, there is quite literally no comparison to it in the sport. Maybe Ali or Jim Brown, but it is poetic domination, brute force constrained. This brings me back to James. He doesn’t need any specific player, he just needs a guy who knows he’ll be a hell of a lot better on the floor with James (see Boozer vs. Ilgauskas).

Wade: Maybe better than Kobe? Maybe the guy who doesn’t need the world to think he can’t in order to can. He has the interior game to match, maybe not the shot, yet, but I think he was the most impressive defender on the ball and in the passing lanes. And while Kobe seemingly put the game on ice with a four point play, there was heat, and it was Wade who popped the cork. And the look he had was pure.

Melo: The world is not his, but oh what multitudes the future may hold. Think about Rasheed and the endless horizons of potential. How many moons glowing before the sun engulfs them. There are ideals and there are shadows in caves, and Anthony dances in the light of that fire. Melo has the game right now to go from 2 to 4, not in a crowing defiance of humanity like Lebron, but rather more like a chameleon inhabiting niches as it pleases nature. Think Rasheed.

Kidd: Hard to place this guy, maybe just a guy who understands his place. I don’t believe he missed a shot for the duration. But with age, like a Washington insider, his edge has waned and only a few passes go off the backboards. The real question is whether the Mavs provide the kind of fireworks that can survive such a dim flame.

CP3: This is probably the toughest call out here. I think he might be Spanish. He is clearly a different player coming off the bench than starting. And the type of chemistry you see from Navarro and Gasol is the type of fluidity that would have come with Tyson Chandler on the team. In the absence of this well developed and flourishing connection Paul was reduced to a blind man clawing for vision, Monet wishing for his youth . He would endlessly direct the best players on the planet to fulfill his vision of a living offense. If he stays with team USA then one day the four horsemen will have a challenge stouter than God.

Derron: He is not a point guard, though his talent his enough to fool you. Were it that he were, Boozer would have been playing. But this is not a libel, he turned out to be the purest combo guard out there (well, let’s be real, the purest combo not named Kobe or Dwayne), he probably had the purest will to drive and some of the best creation out of the zone.

Bosh: KG with an inside game? Not a dominant player though, not Duncan or Olajawon, but sufficient to be great. Dude needs to develop the midrange jumper and he will elevate.

Howard: I wasn’t too impressed, he needs to learn to put the ball on the floor. As it is, he’s Shaq without the girth or the instinct. A needless waste of resources Dwight should be busy redefining the alley oop, rather than committing rote memorization of the put back.

Prince: One of my favorite players, Durant minus the hype or the mean streak. I am endlessly satisfied that Prince was the guy hitting the threes in the early games, playing D in the late games, and filling in as needed when it mattered. Detroit isn’t Detroit without Tayshuan.

Boozer: Vindication for the masses, never should have been on this team. Further he is a testament to the greatness of Lebron and Derron, having been fortunate enough to play with two guys who understand creation.

Redeem? more like reDream!

First of all word to Nathan on his post. Excitement well founded.

There really isn’t anywhere to go on the dominance of the dream team; anyone who has watched these guys play understands that this team is playing a different game. What is really striking though is how incredible the draft of 2003 was. I mean Lebron and DWade are by all accounts the top two performers on this team, the crazy thing is that ‘Melo and Bosh are probably in the top 6 or 7. That is phenomenal.

I haven’t really got into a writing flow so I’ll end with moment of silence for the 5’11 sprinter. R.I.P.

Confessions of a basketball patriot

by Nathan Rodriguez

Forget Christmas in July, I'll take basketball in August.

The start to the Games couldn't have gotten much better than a China v. USA match in the opening round. Watching Yao Ming drain a three at the head of the circle at 9am was a great way to wake up on a Sunday, and reminded me of how much I miss the process of watching football in the Fall: rolling out of bed, grinding up some bean juice and lazily watching some pre-game. For all the masterful build-up and aching anticipation of a night game, there's something to be said for waking up and diving headfirst into some competish.

This is easily the most excited I've been about watching Team USA since the first couple Dream Teams in the '90s. Nothing will ever top the first time such talent coalesced in the original Dream Team with Jordan, Bird and Magic finally sharing same-color jerseys. The second Dream Team was a little younger, a little flashier, but managed to get the job done — same with the third.
Then came the embarrassment.

Team USA had some serious performance issues. We're better than this. But the me-first mentality and one-on-one emphasis of the NBA didn't translate as easily as it used to abroad, and the scrappy international teams whittled away at a collective lack of focus and (possibly) effort by the U.S.
That stung.

Because if there was one thing the U.S. could claim to be the best at in the world, it was basketball. What happens every four years is we send out a dozen or so of our best ballers, and they make us feel a little better about ourselves by mopping the floor with the best from any other nation. That's how this is supposed to work.

There wasn't any visual comparison. One team jerks around mechanically while the other glides with grace, making the improbable look effortless. Team USA did to basketball what Brazil did to soccer. We turned basketball into "the beautiful game," creating art on the spot.

It was kind of fun being the lopsided heavy favorite: It was like rooting for the Harlem Globetrotters against the flavor-of-the-week incarnation of the hapless Generals. The games were action movies, with foregone conclusions and people tuning in for the "Ooh" and "Ahh" factor.
Fast-forward to Beijing, and Team USA has me excited again.

This year we didn't send over an All-Star team with zero prep, we sent over a team that has the unselfish ability to adapt to different styles. Sure, we've got Kobe and LeBron to fall back on when the going gets rough, but we didn't send over guys like Tim Duncan, who can dominate in certain games, but lacks the perimeter skills to hang with international bigs outside the paint. So we may not have sent the best pure players, but this collection is a well-oiled machine with a variety of interchangeable parts.

It's also an exciting year because Team USA's quest for redemption comes at a time when other nations are ascending and the talent gap is narrowing. In terms of pure athleticism, there may not be a close second, but add in thoughtful positioning and a dash of basketball savvy, and the 40-point-plus blow-outs aren't as frequent.

Good teams beat you playing their game. Great teams beat you playing your game. What this team represents is the US taking one of its best bench coaches (loathe as I am to admit it), Mike Krzyzewski, and having him mold some supremely talented team players into a squad that is humble and focused on its mission to reclaim the hoops throne.

The best example of Team USA's attitude in these Olympic games may have come in the form of a commercial. This one featured the team playing nothing but pure, beautiful, unselfish ball: Marvin Gaye provided the soundtrack, while the highlights were only of players finding the open man, favoring the pretty pass over an itchy trigger finger. There wasn't a dunk in the entire commercial.

The main reason I'm so geeked for Olympic basketball is that Team USA has gone back to its college roots. Coach K has turned professional athletes into college players again, in the best way possible. The bloated, diva aura that plagued the past couple teams is gone. They have a team-first attitude, and now play with a passion normally reserved for the playoffs.

As a fan, you live and die with the team. And serious hoops heads will generally admit to some superstitions.

This summer, some people will paint their faces red, white and blue. I'll party like it's 1992, and proudly French roll my acid-washed jeans and don a hypercolor shirt while chomping on some Tear Jerkers, rooting on Team USA as Kriss Kross gently loops in the background — for good measure and poor taste.
Maybe I'm overreacting a tad. Maybe the nothing-but-baseball sports schedule is getting to me.

But this excitement feels genuine.
I don't even like the NBA that much — I'll confess to being a college hoops purist — but this team, this year, finds me as giddy as I was back in junior high while rooting on the '92 Dream Team.

Come to think of it, I've basically reverted into one of the SNL Superfans from that era, favoring a biased-and-proud-of-it fanalysis. Only instead of being all about bratwurst, Ditka toasts and Da Bears, this summer I'm pinning my entire fanhood hopes and dreams on Team USA.

Prediction: Team USA 782, rest of the world 14.