• The snatching of defeat from the splash whiskers of victory (I’m trying to poke fun at Nellie in vague, non libelous ways).

I watched the game with my friend and we came to the collective halftime conclusion that Nellie would get scared in the fourth quarter, then turn to empirically discredited small ball. Our crystal ball also said this panic attack would lose the Warriors another close game. Guess we’re psychic. Or sentient.

• Embarrassment for Warriors management

On the heels of the Blazers, the Nuggets represent another injury-rocked team that can overcome adversity.

• An easy way to shift the blame

In real time, it looked like Monta landed on Earl’s butt. In slow-mo, he merely grazed it. In retrospect, it was a stupid thing for Ellis to do. Currently, it’s funny to say ‘Monta grazed Earl’s ass.’  I loved how Bob Fitzgerald turned into Howard Beale when it happened, considering how sub-marine the stakes were.  If anything, this puts GSW one step closer towards getting a soon-to-disgruntled high lottery pick.

• Dark Nellie comedy

This was sad, inexcusable, and incomprehensible. In the third quarter Ronny Turiaf injured his ankle,  went to the training room, and bravely reentered the game.  He’s a professional, someone who would give full effort no matter the circumstances.  But Nellie should have stopped him.  Holy shit, this  game was not the time for Turiaf torture porn.  I felt like this was the most under talked about subplot in Twitterland–possibly because we’ve become immune to Nellie’s insanity.  Ronny Turiaf limped up and down the court while visibly grimacing. His rotations weren’t slow so much as they weren’t there.  As Turiaf trudged on possession switches, he looked like an old, dying, dog dragging his body towards a final resting spot.  The absence of a fifth man was a big factor in the quarter, most noticeably felt when JR Smith waltzed towards an easy dunk.

Even when healthy Turiaf’s a ‘meh’ rebounder.  On a bad wheel, he could only receive rebounds–not get them.  Of course he nearly played the whole fourth quarter alongside an awful rebounding lineup.  Of course we lost.

• Bizarre Treatment of Anthony Randolph

No game would be complete without it.  Randolph played badly in the first half, but was pretty much left to his own devices.  I don’t have an issue with keeping the kid on the court, even through mistakes.  What didn’t make sense was Nellie’s benching of Randolph after some inspired second half play.  Or, maybe it would have made sense if Randolph weren’t the only healthy big at that point (I’m not counting Chris Hunter, he’s D-Leaguer till proven otherwise). It’s as though Don Nelson’s trying to get Anthony Randolph to suck through Pavlovian conditioning.  Who knew the old man could find such creative outlets for his whimsy?

• Monta Ellis laughing at the end

Can’t blame the guy. Can’t do it. Just can’t.

Chad Ford
(1:40 PM)
Not unless they can get a team to take Corey Maggette’s contract too.

It’s always a bad sign when you’re reading a chat. I’m wasting time till my job starts tomorrow, but there’s still no excuse for reading and caring about an ESPN chat. Oh well, I read this and now I care. Perhaps I care because I’ve heard this trope everywhere: The Warriors will only deal their best future prospect if they can get a team to take their most productive player. Seriously? I know the economy went south and Maggette’s deal ain’t ideal…but seriously? CM’s playing out of his gourd right now and Anthony Randolph is looking like the better version of Josh Smith. This theme is analogous to saying that I could only give you my arm if you’ll take a leg.

I come here not to bury Monta Ellis, but instead to praise his past productivity.  Let’s go back a short hop temporally and a long leap mentally. Let’s see what Monta accomplished in 2007-2008 for the best Warriors team this decade:

Net +4.3

With Monta on the floor, the 48 win Warriors were a marginally better defensive team (-.8), and an improved offensive squad (+3.5).   While Ellis hurt them in rebounding, he more than made up for it with great scoring efficiency.  His 58% TS (stands for ‘True Shooting’, not ‘Tough Shit, we’re fining you 3 millie for a moped crash) from that year dwarfs his modern middling-to-mediocre 52.5%.  On the defensive end, he acquitted himself decently for a young player, usually drawing assignments on guys who were actually his size.

Oh, and then there’s the matter of turnovers.  Question: What would Monta’s 07-08 per game turnovers, multiplied by two be?  Answer: Not as much as his current per game TO amount (2.1 to 4.3).  Question: Is that the nerdiest thing you’ve ever asked yourself? Answer: Sadly, no.  Anyway, I’m not even going to reference the pace/minute adjusted stats because the 4.3 pretty much tells the story.  Adjusting for minutes is like putting a paint job on a totaled moped.

I’m not really of that fluffy Ric Bucher School of ‘this guy makes that guy better.’ I’ve tended to believe that players only marginally overlap (unless you play with Iverson).  But dammit if it doesn’t seem Monta misses Baron Davis.   Let’s move away from stats for a second and conjure up an old moving picture of Baron dribbling a few feet above the key.  Davis drives and this pulls the defense a few paces towards him.  After two dribbles he whips the ball towards Ellis, who’s crouching on the three point line (at the point that’s equidistant from top-of-the-key and the baseline).  As Monta’s defender moves towards the action, Ellis simply blows past him in the opposite direction. Simple, effective, and thinking about it nearly makes me cry. Off the ball is where Ellis is meant to play.

As I recover from that nostalgia I’ll add that Baron could guard twos, allowing Monta to matchup on ones (Ya, ya, ya, we’ve heard that a million times). Baron may not be Monta’s basketball soul mate-the one player meant for Ellis to play with.  I loved BDiddy, but he was never close to All-NBA material and there are other big point guards in the sea.  Could I interest you in nearly over-the-hill types like Andre Miller and Jason Kidd?  Maybe we can tank and snag my guy Evan Turner, or even luck out with the Great Wall of John? I’m not sure what the solution is, but I believe we’re wasting a good player’s prime every game the problem goes unsolved.

After the last game, Ellis said, ‘I can’t do it by myself. I can’t win a game by myself.’ He’s right about that, but perhaps he shouldn’t be trying to win it by himself.  Perhaps he should be reaping the benefits of a new facilitator, even a mediocre one.  With Ellis dribbling out the clock, we’re more likely to see a high-speed turnover than a lethal layup.

1 minute ago

heard something bout me and guns, ive been workin on my shot LOL
2 minutes ago

all lies, u media ppl r crazy    funny stories tho!
2 minutes ago

can’t wait 2 go 2 jail! KIDDING! lmfao
2 minutes ago

david stern, wanna go 2 a shootin gallery w me&javaris? lolololol

3 minutes ago

im not crazy

3 minutes ago

watch me eat my own head! not crazy! LOL

4 minutes ago

i don’t even gamble cuz MJ told me not to    JOKES

4 minutes ago

anyone wanna gamble on how long im suspended or jail?
4 minutes ago

thought wizards were tryin 2 shoot ME after that contract, had to watch my back LOL

4 minutes ago

id only shoot caron if he hogged the ball

5 minutes ago

heard I might b suspended for 1 year  anyone know a good song 2 be listened to at 3PM?

6 minutes ago

weird that i saw shaq leavin my house this morning. ur crazy shaq!

7 minutes ago

We’ve seen it before, Michael Jordan is a terrific, ruthless, inspirational killer.  The way Jordan mopped the floor with that fool Dean Smith in MJ’s hall of fame speech was masterful.  I personally loved when MJ cursed out a friendly Chamillionaire. Don’t come with that weak stuff, Chamillionaire! I love how, even in retirement, His Airness finds new ways to inspire us with displays of raw, unbridled aggression towards his fellow man.  We can all learn something from the way Jordan treats his foes.

And here’s where it gets a little messy.  Because, well, I’m not sure where to separate Turiaf the player from Turiaf the lovable force of nature.  For the purposes of clarity I’m chucking metrics and win percentages out the window.  Hell, Turiaf competes for playing time with two of the most productive (in my opinion) Warriors and I still love the guy.  I know he’s merely a capable backup center. Trust me, I know.

It’s that Turiaf owns his space.  He’s not going through the motions of a NBA basketball game–he’s celebrating every moment. In a corporate, pressurized, sport, Turiaf stands out as a whirlwind of innocent exuberance.  He gets hyphy, and so do you.  You do because he conveys just how much damned fun competition should be.  That’s corny, but it’s coming from a guy who might just channel his inner Ronny next time he wins at pickup hoops or even Madden 2010.  It won’t look as cool when a 5-11 Jewish dude’s jumping around and flailing, but I’m wringing more celebration out of life because Ronny showed me the way.

And here’s where it gets a little messy again. I have no clue who the real Turiaf is.  I’m not even sure whether to call him, “Ronnie” or “Ronny.” He really could be anybody, even a two-faced Kirby Puckett type.  All I know is that he gives a piece of his being every night on the court, and we’re better for the transference.  Oh and then of course, there’s this:

Or not. The Warriors have near 50 win talent with a healthy squad, and these efforts should be the norm.  The Lakers game was a shining example in how brutally bad lineup decisions are snatching defeat from the splash whiskers of victory. Of course I’m going to talk about Anthony Randolph, and I don’t care if people are tired of hearing it.  Anthony Randolph, he of the ‘too many (gasp!) mistakes,’ played a shade under 19 minutes.  Who can fault Nellie for that, the kid was clearly overmatched and killing the team?  I mean, getting only 5 blocked shots, going 3/5, 5 assists, a whole turnover, making Lamar Odom pee his pants, we can’t have that, can we?  I mean, getting only 5 blocked shots, going 3/5, 5 assists, a whole turnover, making Lamar Odom pee his pants…Hey, whenever you can sub out a guy on pace for a quadruple double for the unshaven corpse of Vladimir ‘rather be snowboarding’ Radmanovic…well, I’ll stop with the cloying sarcasm.

Here are the AR per 36 minute totals:

Age      Tm      Lg      G      GS      MP      FG      FGA      FG%      3P      3PA      3P%
20      GSW      NBA      29      5      671      6.4      14.5      .439      0.1      0.3      .200

FT      FTA      FT%      ORB      DRB      TRB AST     STL BLK TOV      PF      PTS
5.3      6.5      .810         3.3         6.9        10.2 2.1          1.3        2.5 2.4       4.5      18.1

I’ll also add Randolph’s PER of 18.64 (second on the team).  And don’t start with that ‘but he kills the team chemistry on defense!’ The numbers ain’t with ya on it. Sorry.

Here is Don Nelson’s record since the beginning of last season: 38-75.  To those waiting for Nellie to coach us back from oblivion, do yourselves a favor and get super comfy.

I keep banging the same drum because the inexcusable occurs with alarming regularity.  Warrior ‘drama’ gets all the pub, but Nellie’s unfettered mind-numbingly destructive lineup decisions is the real overarching trope of the post ‘We Believe’ era.  Nellie’s addiction to ’small ball’ (or in this case, intentionally losing and passing it off as a strategy) continues unabated, and I have this stupid urge to make the holdouts accept reality: Please, for the sake of sanity, objective truth, and common wisdom,  admit that he’s coaching the team into the ground.  It’s painful enough to watch this happen to my favorite team, I don’t want to also feel like John Lithgow from ‘The Twilight Zone’ movie (there’s a gremlin doling out minutes to Kurz/Mikki/Vlad!).

It went from frustrating to comical back to frustrating and perhaps back to comical again.  At least this losing strategy has it’s comedic benefits. One sideshow of the Nellie ball experience is hearing/reading Nellie apologists defend these decisions to the bitter end.  As Nellie gets crazier, the apologists are forced into odd contortions.  If Randolph balls it up in mingy minutes, we get something like, ‘Hey, Randolph grabbed two more rebounds after he was yanked and Nellie talked to him, yay Nellie!’ Father knows best, right?  I’m sure he has his reasons, huh?  I’d be more inclined to believe this if Nellie hadn’t pulled the same crap with virtually every young big who had the misfortune of suiting up for him.  Look, I have nothing but love for all the Dubs fans out there, and I want the Nellie lovers to be correct…but I don’t think we’re at a point of arguing the subjective anymore.  As in, one can argue that Wade is superior to Kobe Bryant, or vice versa. One cannot reasonably argue that Anthony Parker is superior to Kobe. And you can’t make solid, data-based arguments for keeping the 20 year old on the bench.

The paternalistic excuses for Nellie’s handling of Randolph have officially jumped the shark.  Nellie’s not raising a child, he’s keeping one of his best players off the court in favor of NBA dregs.  This isn’t 1972, we have endless empirical evidence to prove a coaching failure. Warriors Fans, it’s time to wake up and smell the scotch: Your coach is hurting the team.

Kudos to Howard Bryant for at least bringing up the fan factor.  He’s in the minority.  Last night I watched oh-so-serious football men Tony Dungy and Rodney Harrison sagely opine that the Colts had no responsibility to anyone but the team.  Really?  What about all those angry people who bought tickets for that game? What about all the Colts fans who wanted a perfect season?  I understand Caldwell’s perspective on the matter, but the arrogance of the talking heads is staggering.

For all the daily sports jibber jabber about what team’s number one, what team’s a fraud, and which coach is on the hot seat, the fans get ignored with alarming frequency.  These all-important sports moments are presented as though they occur in a vacuum and that we intrinsically understand their profound impact on our lives.

I didn’t hear or read one argument like the following: Caldwell has a right to pull his players, but he should have informed ticket buyers ahead of time.  Or how about this one:  The Colts should have put their decision to a local fan vote, seeing as how the fans watch the games and buy the tickets.  Such arguments are considered subversive and deviant in the ultra corporate NFL, a league that can’t possibly fathom a world where Americans no longer care about football.  Hey, we’ll blackout your games in a recession, our coaches will intentionally roll over upon clinching playoff berths, and our sport will cripple your heroes for life…but you suckers will never turn away, right?

The NFL has an underlying assumption that Americans will do anything for pro football—as though it’s encoded in our national DNA.  That’s a mistake.  Football is popular here, but it’s continued dominance isn’t assured.  The United States boasts one of the fastest changing, most diverse populations in the world.  Not everybody wants to hunker down and watch the start-stop-timeout-challenge ‘action’ of the NFL.  I do, but most of my friends who emigrated here don’t.  Soccer and basketball have done far more to ride the globallization (get it??) tsunami.  I’ll still root for the Chargers, but part of me wants America’s other sports to overtake this self-important, fan-hating concussion mill.

Last Sunday was disgusting.  Chad Johnson probably feels real pain for his lost teammate, but all of that is mixed in with a staggering narcissistic streak.  He cries for the cameras, claims he’ll wear Henry’s jersey, dress in his locker, whatever. Dude…it’s not about you.

Perhaps it’s Ocho’s way of dealing with the pain, but he certainly doesn’t hate the attention.  And neither does the NFL.  This is drama, a chance to further hype a marquee matchup between two top teams.  By all means, keep the cameras on Chad as he weeps on the sidelines! How compelling!  It’s also a chance for the NFL construct an alternate memory of who Henry was, and deflect the casual fan from thinking ‘human crimewave.’

Look, I hate when guys like Colin Cowherd jump into these stories as though someone rang a racial paternalism bell.  But I also hate how we scrub history clean in the name of sensitivity.  We don’t have to cruelly say ‘he deserved it,’ or dismissively say, ‘it wasn’t surprising.’ We don’t have to act as though (this is directed at Cowherd) a freak incident is the perfect template for shaking our fists at young black athletes—as if Henry is indicative of some grand social problem that must be solved right NOW.  What society should do is stop large corporations from manipulating our humanity. I wish some sportswriter would say, “Gee, NFL, CBS, it’s death, not a commercial for your game.”

The power of sports kabuki prevents us from doing this. We have to ‘mourn’ the loss, turn Henry’s life into an acceptable narrative (Chris Henry was reformed! Pat Tillman was a hero!), and help the NFL  squeeze as much good press as they can from the contrived emotion.  Any major figure who questions this dance will be chucked into the realm of deviancy faster than post-911 Bill Maher.  Perhaps it doesn’t matter, but I like veracity. Not ‘oh-so-serious’ NFL bullshit kabuki.  What I saw last Sunday just didn’t seem honest.

Ironically sports are all about emotional manipulation.  They are totally trivial without our collective feeling irrationally poured in.  But a ‘NBA on NBC’ Marv Albert-narrated montage gooses your feelings in a positive way.  The NFL appealing to your sensitivity for the sake of its own ratings and image just erodes your capacity for sympathy from a distance.  If media companies constantly gun for our empathy, we become a cynical, silly people.  I don’t have the Hollinger stats to prove this, but Jacko death hysteria+Tiger Woods hysteria+ongoing wars+feudal healthcare system = a country without emotional perspective.

Just for fun, I’ll add my rusty two cents about four months too early.  The Warriors are this year’s Grizzlies: They have redundancies of redundancies, which could force a dumb decision.  Who among us watched the Grizz glumly pick Thabeet and thought it would work out well? No one, except the rare breed of character who would actually admit to having thought anything other than ‘STIFF’ on draft day.  I respect that person’s honesty, and perhaps Thabeet will hit a championship-winning half court shot before it’s all said and done.  But in the pre-Thabeet half court shot era, the pick looks awful–especially since Conley’s looking like a guy who merely rode Greg Oden’s coattails (which will eventually lead to Greg Oden fracturing both coattails).  I guess my point is that W’s management shouldn’t worry about redundancy because we barley know who’s good on this youthful, crazy team.

If the Warriors Secaucus their way into the top 3, almost any pick should force a trade.  I love Derrick Favors as Amare 2.0, but what happens if we actually have the luck to get him? Biedrins trade? We give up on Randolph?  Another Monta vs. Curry situation among bigs? Same problems arise with the glorious John Wall.  This isn’t necessarily bad, it’s just an interesting place to be after so much pre-season playoffs hyping. Winning the lottery will set off a Tim Kawakami speculation bomb. Just prepare for it, no biggie.

Given our lotto luck, I wouldn’t be surprised if we slip past top 3 pay dirt.  If that happens, remember Evan Turner. I may be getting ahead of myself, but his talent will most likely exceed his draft selection number.  Hell, I’ll prematurely conjecture my mental mind into thinking we’ll get him.  So why does Turner Talent>Turner Selection?  He fractured two back vertebrae and is out two months.  This is a concern, but it is also a chance to get a DuJuan Blair bargain.

I heard an interview with Daryl Morey once, where he said that the Rockets consistently take on injury risk as a means of beating the basketball market (paraphrasing).  Perhaps Mr. Quantum physics was merely playing a Jedi Mind trick so he could laugh when Donnie Walsh signed Jonathan Bender, but Morey’s words seemed pregnant with the veracity of a thousand George Washingtons.

In Morey I trust.  And in Evan Turner’s awsome rebounding, passing, and driving ability I sort of trust.  He’s six-foot-seven and ath-a-letic, as the announcers say. Check out this Turner youtube mix set to Eminem’s ‘Till I Collapse’ and try to keep from getting pumped (He looks like Tyreke Evans on some of the drives!).  Behold, his mighty rebounding and assist numbers (two huge Warriors concerns). With a little luck, we can add him and at least compensate for our suckitude with a historically youthful, compelling cast. Call it ’suckcitement.’