Andrew Bogut's Brilliant Squad 6

I've always liked Andrew Bogut. I have no idea why. Maybe it's the 26 double-doubles he compiled at the University of Utah. Maybe it's his crazy Australian/Croatian roots. Maybe it's because he showed up to his pre-Draft interview with Bucks owner Herb Kohl dressed in a suit, polished resume in hand. Or maybe it's just because of this. Regardless, I've enjoyed, albeit from a distance, Bogut's evolution from touted prospect to a potential All-Star, at least according to one overzealous Aussie blogger. 

But it's Bogut's recent philanthropic work in Milwaukee that pretty much ensures him of my continued support. (You're welcome.) Fed up with the lackluster atmosphere of the Bradley Center, the Bucks' home arena, Bogut purchased 100 tickets for each home game and distributed them to the most enthusiastic and energetic Bucks fans, as determined by American Idol-like auditions, which Bogut set up through the team's public relations department. The winners, who have since started calling themselves Squad 6, largely in recognition of Bogut's uniform number, all sound as if they are all clinically insane. 

Some shake cowbells. Some take shirts off to display numbers painted on their chests of favorite Bucks players. Many drink beer. After all, this is Milwaukee. The fans, mostly young men ranging from college age into their 30s, pay homage to Bogut being from Australia. Woelfel, a Marquette senior, has brought a didgeridoo, a long, wooden Australian instrument, to games. The fans regularly chant, "Aussie, Aussie, Aussie! Oi, Oi, Oi

Forgive me, but I can't help picturing the crowd on hand for the battle between Mad Max and Master Blaster at Thunderdome. Which is just all kinds of incredible. That, plus Brandon Jennings? On an awesomeness scale of 10, I have to give the Bucks' home game experience a 15. Maybe 20.  

You Know He Ain’t Gonna Die

I recently made a not-so-friendly wager with my buddy and co-blogger about Danilo Gallinari’s scoring average. Somewhere along the way, (Ed. a bar, probably), I confidently predicted that the man known as “The Rooster,” or “The Cock,” depending on where your seats are located, would finish the season averaging no less than 16 points per game. Last night, he scored a healthy 22 in the Knicks’ horrible loss to the Miami Heat.

Yes, it’s come to this as a Knicks fan. My interests in the team exists almost exclusively in the offensive progress of a 21-year-old, semi-walled-eyed kid from Sant’Angelo Lodigiano.

Incidentally, Sant’Angelo Lodigiano is also the native home of Mother Cabrini, the Vatican’s favorite American saint.

Isn’t that interesting?

Anyway, in honor of my new favorite Knickerbocker, here’s the studio clip of Alice in Chains’ “The Rooster,” which was recorded in 1992, when Gallinari was four.

No, New York, No, New York, No

I'm not going to lie. This year's Knicks team doesn't really excite me. I watched a number of their preseason games, including the bizarre exhibition against Maccabi Tel Aviv, and to borrow a phrase, this team don't look too f*cking good. 

Although they do work hard on both ends of the court, the team lacks a go-to offensive weapon, a reliable defensive presence, a consistent shooter and a vocal, veteran leader. In theory, Al Harrington is supposed to fill these various roles, but if anyone expects Harrington to do this, they haven't exactly been paying close attention to Al throughout his career.   

Headed into the season, the Knicks have a ton more questions than they do answers: Is David Lee worth the long-term investment? Is Wilson Chandler a foundational piece, or is he just a role player? Can Danilo Gallinari play in the NBA? Is Nate Robinson anything more than a sideshow? Has Darko Milicic finally figured it out? Was Jordan Hill worth drafting? Is Toney Douglas any good? Is there any team desperate enough to want Jared Jeffries and/or Eddy Curry?

If the Knicks can answer half of these questions in the affirmative, I'll consider the season a resounding success. Going forward, though, the future fortunes of the Knicks, no matter how much progress they show on the court, will rise and fall based on one question and one question only: Will they land LeBron? 

Eddy Curry is Vestigial

Yesterday, Eddy Curry, the man once considered the cornerstone of the New York Knicks, was diagnosed with a torn right plantaris muscle, a vestigial sheath of tissue located between the calf and the ankle. Only 40 percent of the world's population even has this muscle. Curry, who missed the better part of the past two seasons due to various ailments and poor conditioning, is now injuring parts of his body that are, medically speaking, no more useful than an appendix or a human tail. Which begs the awful, yet inevitable question: how much longer can Eddy Curry last in the National Basketball Association?

Curry's professional career has been a complete disaster. It's sad, but true. Diagnosed with an irregular heartbeat at the end of the 2004-2005 season, Curry was traded to the Knicks for an expensive package of expiring contracts and future draft picks. The trade, compounded by a number of horrendous organizational decisions (See Thomas, Isiah), continues to cripple the franchise. Curry, believe it or not, is still under contract next year, which could very well prevent the Knicks from signing a second free agent in the much-heralded class of 2010. 

I'm not about to put this on Curry, though. I honestly feel bad for the guy. His most recent setback caps off a horrible 2009. In January, Curry's former driver filed a bizarre sexual harassment suit against Curry alleging Curry exposed himself and tried to solicit sex from his former employee. That same month, Curry's former girlfriend was killed in her home, along with the couple's daughter. Their three-year-old son witnessed the murder. In June, Curry's home went into foreclosure, which prompted Curry to ask the Knicks for an advance on his $8 million-salary. The Knicks denied his request. There's nothing funny about his current personal or professional situation. The man obviously needs a lot of help, financially, professionally and emotionally.  

Still, at this point in his career, Curry is quickly running out of time and chances, and is in serious jeopardy of losing everything.  

Kevin Durant at the Movies

Kevin Durant is a man of many talents. Not only is he the most promising and, arguably, most exciting young player in the National Basketball Association, he’s also a pretty good film critic.

For the past few days, in between hours-long practices and work out sessions, Durant has been watching DVDs during his downtime, tweeting his by-the-minute commentary. Most recently, he screened "Obsessed," Beyonce’s broken-down star-making vehicle, and J.J. Abrams’ "Star Trek," which, given its November DVD release date, must be a bootleg or an advance copy or something.

Here are some of Durant’s more trenchant reactions to "Obesessed":

Man if I have a wife and we arguing and she say ‘get out my house’ ima laugh and ask her is she high lol…pleaaassseee.

Ladies don’t try n be like beyonce cuz the fellas will flip and kick yo a** out lol.

Moment of truth.

Lol beyonce got a big a** head..cuz she head butted da mess out that girl..I woulda been outtaaa dere…my scalp woulda been bruised.

While Durant clearly had a lot to say about Obsessed, in comparison, he wasn’t particularly taken with the latest incarnation of the Star Trek franchise. Or should I say enterprise? I get confused. Still, Durant did manage to bang out a few keepers, and raise a number of somewhat interesting if somewhat curious points.

If you ship run outta gas n space…where would you refuel at?

Good question, Kevin.

Zoe saldana is beautiful…nice smile.

Yes, she is. 

Spock as a little kid would beat da hell outta mcauley caulkin in home alone.

Highly illogical.

Dirty blond to redhead and back again. Don’t worry, Kirk’s still a natural dickhead underneath.

Sorry, that last line is from Anthony Lane’s "New Yorker" review of the film. You get the point, though. 

No word yet on which movie Durant plans on watching next? Here’s hoping he gets his hands on an early copy of "Julia & Julia." I can't wait to read what he has to say about Nora Ephron.

Attack of the 267-Pound Matzo Ball

To promote their biennial exhibition against Maccabi “Electra” Tel Aviv, Israel’s premier basketball team, the Knicks commissioned the world’s biggest matzo ball. The 3-foot-high matzo ball, which consists of 1,000 eggs, 80 pounds of margarine, 200 pounds of matzo meal, and 20 pounds of chicken base, was slow boiled for about a day in New Jersey, reportedly in a 100-gallon kettle, by 12 chefs. The record-breaking matzo ball received a 24-police escort through the streets of Lower Manhattan until it was unveiled at its final destination, Noah's Ark Deli, on Grand Street. It was driven in a 24-foot freight liner. Representatives from the Guinness Book of World Records were on hand to certify the matzo ball's record-breaking size. The thing weighed in at an astounding--and unappetizing-- 267 pounds, approximately twice the size of Nate Robinson. 

Not to be picayune, and, please do correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't believe matzo balls are particularly big in Israel. Hummus or Ptitim would have been more appropriate, no? 

(Via Marc Berman)

Knicks 2009-2010 Schedule

The National Basketball Association released this morning each team's schedule for the upcoming season, the league's 64th. While most people jumped up to find out when LeBron was heading to Los Angeles, or when Kobe's slated to play in Beantown, I was more interested in taking a look at the Knicks' upcoming road to perdition. (Spoiler alert: the Knicks don't have a draft pick in next year's draft, and the projected, much-ballyhooed salary cap seems to be getting smaller and smaller with each passing week). Seriously, things don't look good. The Knickerbockers start and finish the season on the road, opening against the Heat in Miami, and topping things off north of the border against the Raptors, a game that may or may not have playoff implications--for about two or three teams not from New York. 

It gets worse. In March and April, just around the time I usually lose complete interest in them, the Knicks face a series of absolutely brutal road trips, including a visit to Texas, followed by a five-game trip to the West Coast. In between, they host the 76ers, the Rockets and the Nuggets. That just seems unfair. See for yourself.

Yikes. That stretch should pretty much put an end to the team's playoff chances, if they even have any after the All-Star Break, which, per usual, arrives in mid-February, right around my birthday.

Surprisingly, though, the powers that be have deemed the Knicks worthy of five nationally televised games, including a Christmas Day contest against the Heat, one of five games scheduled for a national broadcast on Baby Jesus' birthday. Meanwhile, LeBron makes an early appearance at the Garden, on November 6, the Knicks' sixth game of the season. Kobe drops in on January 22. Both games are, of course, nationally televised, because of what happened the last time these two stopped by. I guess the world needs to see the league's two most marketabl stars abuse my Knickerbockers. While we're on the subject, I'm not too crazy about the team's chances of winning any of their games in front of a national audience, which also include home games against the Clippers and the Raptors, in December and January, respectively. It's only August. Is it too early to write off the entire season? 

Is Stephon Marbury More Deranged Than Ron Artest?

I only caught about ten minutes of Stephon Marbury's bizarre 24-hour performance on UStream.tv, but the small segment I watched made the Michael Jackson memorial look downright dignified. Some things in life, Steph, are meant to be private. 

Tall Timber

I stumbled across this clip on a Knicks message board. Seriously. It's incredible footage of a 17-year-old, rail-thin Wilt Chamberlain showing off his skills at Kutsher's Hotel in the Catskills, where he worked as a bellhop during his high school summer vacations. The vintage newsreel, produced by Paramount Pictures and narrated by Marty Glickman, is from 1954, six years before Chamberlain made his professional debut with the Harlem Globetrotters and eight years before he put up 100 points against the Knicks in Hershey, Pennsylvania. 

French Fry Dodged

Jason Kidd decided to stay in Dallas, the best thing to happen to the Knicks since, well... it's a good thing. Trust me. Was anybody looking forward to a 39-year-old Kidd, an older, slower version of the current broken-down Kidd, hobbling his way through D'Antoni's offensive sets? I didn't think so. Bring on Morris Almond. 

Know Your Newest Knick

Here's what I wrote about Jordan Hill, the 8th overall pick in this year's NBA Draft, back in March, before the NCAA Tournament: 

Arizona will only go as far as center/power forward Jordan Hill takes them. Sure, the Wildcats have small forward Chase Budinger and point guard Nic Wise to help pick up the offensive slack, but Jordan is the team's defensive presence and, as far as I can tell, its singular source of toughness. Hill, a 6-1o junior who averaged 18 points, 11 rebounds and about 2 blocks per game this season, knows how to finish around the basket and holds his ground defensively on the low post, which could give Utah's Australian center Luke Nevil, a 7-1 junior, all he can handle.

The Wildcats have a long history of stinking up the NCAA tournament, and a number of sports writers and commentators believe the wildly inconsistent Cats, who lost to UAB but also beat Kansas, Gonzaga and UCLA, didn't deserve to make this year's tournament, especially as a 12-seed. If Hill plays like he did against the Bruins on Valentine's Day (22 points, 13 rebounds and 2 blocks), however, he and his Arizona teammates might just silence a few critics and, in the process, bust up a bracket or two.

Hill's not Stephen Curry, but I do like his game. I have one question, though: does Hill's arrival spell the end to David Lee's days as a Knickerbocker? 

2009 Mock Draft II

I just returned from vacation. There is literally way too much NBA news to digest. Shaq to the Cavs seems a little late, and Crawford to the Hawks feels like a supremely bad idea. For the life of me, I can't figure out why the Celtics would even consider trading Rondo, if the various dubious reports are to be take seriously. Finally, there are rumors that Donnie Walsh is looking to acquire Darko Milicic from Memphis for Quentin Richardson, and, in another move, trying to pry away one of Minnesota's four first round picks, probably number 18 or 28, in exchange for some cash. With everything up in the air, I thought I'd take another crack at predicting tonight's NBA Draft. Here goes nothing. 

Los Angeles Clippers: Blake Griffin.
Still set in stone. 

Memphis Grizzlies: Hasheem Thabeet. 
It's not who they want, but it's what they need. Unfortunately, Thabeet's not going to add much, at least not right away.  

Oklahoma City Thunder: Ricky Rubio. 
Sorry, Russell Westbrook. Make room for Ricky. 

Sacramento Kings: Tyreke Evans. 

The Kings really want Rubio, but they could end up with the steal of the draft. 

Minnesota Timberwolves: James Harden and Stephen Curry. 
By trading Randy Foye and Mike Miller to Washington, the Timberwolves will look to rebuild their backcourt. Harden and Curry are their guys.  

Golden State Warriors: Jordan Hill.  
This seems to be the growing consensus. A talented big man to complement the Warriors' numerous guards and wings.  

New York Knicks: Jrue Holliday.    
A reliable, if underwhelming pick.   

Toronto Raptors: Jonny Flynn. 
It seems they're in search of a point guard to help Jose Calderon carry the load.  

Milwaukee Bucks: DeMar DeRozan. 
The Bucks take a chance on the athletic DeRozan to replace the recently departed Richard Jefferson.  

New Jersey Nets: Gerald Henderson.

DeJuan Blair's knee and weight issues make the Nets look elsewhere. What they find is Henderson.    

Charlotte Bobcats: Terrence Williams.   
Versatile, and said to have a promise from Charlotte. Makes sense.   

Indiana Pacers: Ty Lawson. 
The Pacers will go with the best available player, even if it is a carbon copy of incumbent TJ Ford.

Phoenix Suns. James Johnson.

Quick, versatile big man who can play the 3 and the 4. Just one of the things Phoenix needs.

(UPDATE: Looks like SI's Ian Thomsen has an almost identical mock draft, which means I'm probably wrong. )

2009 NBA Mock Draft

I hate to say this, but I'm not particularly excited about this year's draft. Blake Griffin is the consensus number one pick, almost by default. When I watch him, I see Michael Beasley, not Karl Malone, as some basketball pundits have claimed. I'm not sure that's the level of talent you'd want in return for the first overall pick. Still, there's almost no shot of him falling out of the top slot. After Griffin, though, it's a total crap shoot. This is, without question, a guard-heavy draft, with Ricky Rubio, James Harden, Stephen Curry, Tyreke Evans, Jonny Flynn, Jrue Holiday, Brandon Jennings, Jeff Teague, Ty Lawson and Eric Maynor, among others, all up for grabs. All have potential, but can anyone really tell me, between, say, Holiday and Evans, which player will have a more immediate impact in the league, or a better career? I can't. The differences in these players are, as far as I can tell, marginal at best. For instance, would you take Rubio or Curry? Is one necessarily four-to-five picks better than the other? I'm not so sure. Fortunately, I don't have to decide; I can just throw up a mock draft with impunity.   

Here's how I think the upcoming lottery will unfold.

Los Angeles Clippers: Blake Griffin. 

The Clips are pretty much locked in here. Griffin, though, will have to split time with Zach Randolph, whose outrageous contract--and horrible attitude-- pretty much preclude him from every being dealt to another team. Have fun with that, Blake. 

Memphis Grizzlies: Tyreke Evans.

Ricky Rubio says he doesn't want to play in Memphis. The Grizzlies, then, will be more than happy to pair Evans, who led the University of Memphis to the Sweet 16, with O.J. Mayo.  

Oklahoma City Thunder: Hasheem Thabeet.

Behind Kevin Durant, Jeff Green and Russell Westbrook, the Thunder averaged 97 points per game this year, while giving up 103. Thabeet's defensive presence, if nothing else, should help rectify this. 

Sacramento Kings: Ricky Rubio.

This is a win-win. Rubio gets to play in California, and the Kings get a talented point guard to fill some seats, and run with Kevin Martin.

Washington Wizards: Jordan Hill.

Washington will think long and hard about taking James Harden or Stephen Curry here, but will ultimately go with Hill because of his size and ability to grab some boards. 

Minnesota Timberwolves: James Harden.

They would love to get their hands on Thabeet, but will settle for Harden, a much better option at the 2 than Randy Foye, who's really better playing the point.

Golden State Warriors: DeMar DeRozan. 

The mad scientist strikes again, picking DeRozan, an athletic freak, over the more polished Stephen Curry.  

New York Knicks: Stephen Curry. 

Too good to be true? God, I hope not.  

Toronto Raptors: Gerald Henderson.

This might be a bit of a reach, but the Raptors really need a shooting guard. Henderson is the best one available. 

Milwaukee Bucks: Jrue Holiday. 

The defensive-minded Scott Skiles would be absolutely giddy about landing Holiday, a product of Ben Howland's UCLA system.

New Jersey Nets: DeJuan Blair. 

Let's face it: the Nets are soft down low. Blair will give them some much-needed toughness.

Charlotte Bobcats: Earl Clark. 

Larry Brown won't be able to resist Clark's versatility. 

Indiana Pacers: Brandon Jennings. 

At this point, the Pacers will go with the best available player, even if it is a point guard. 

Phoenix Suns. Ty Lawson.

I'm tempted to go with Jonny Flynn here, but, all things being equal, I think Steve Kerr goes with Lawson, the better defender.    

Why the Knicks Still Matter

Three reasons: Location. Location. Location. At least according to FreeDarko's 6th man:

In this way, New York is the true capital of basketball. Beyond the dizzying array of connections to the NYC that unite almost all of the game’s denizens, New York’s primacy as a streetball center keeps the sport anchored in the five boroughs. Basketball embodies New York’s spirit, and New York embodies basketball’s. Appreciating this dynamic explains why places like West 4th Street are hallowed proving grounds; why the history of the game was likely altered the day that Black Jesus came forth from Philadelphia, held court in Harlem, and dazzled Lew Alcindor; why a palpable chill descends on the building when Kobe shows up to drop 60.

[SNIP]

The Knickerbockers are New York’s most visible link to the sport with which it shares a soul; the Knicks are a proxy for the City. And the Knicks, of course, play in the National Basketball Association. NBA basketball is the best-known, best-played form of the sport. A sustained championship drought, therefore, has bedeviled New Yorkers because it has challenged a shared sense of identity. Even if this discomfort is not always articulated as such, the Knicks’ failures have struck at what New Yorkers are about. The place of basketball should field a team which can play it as well as just about any other.

With or without LeBron, the Knicks will soon field a team as good as the game. Mark my words. 

Obama's Point Guard Problem?

Is Sacramento Mayor and former NBA all-star Kevin Johnson about to derail Obama's presidency? I doubt it. There's barely any smoke, let alone fire. I'm still trying to get my head around the controversy, but, from what I've read this morning, here's the nuts-and-bolts of what went down: According to various sources, Johnson reportedly misused federal funds for ST. HOPE Public Schools, a nonprofit education education program he established in 2001. After an extensive investigation, federal prosecutors ordered Johnson to return one-half of the original grant, approximately $400,000, to AmeriCorps, the federal agency that initially gave Johnson the money. Johnson complied. Case closed, right? Hardly. Here's where it gets a little sticky. 

Gerald Walpin, the inspector general for the government-run Corporation for National and Community Service, which runs the AmeriCorps program, said Johnson got off easy, because he's Obama guy. He wrote as much to Congress, asking the legislative body review the case. In turn, acting U.S. Attorney Lawrence Brown requested the federal counsel of inspector generals review Walpin's performance, arguing that Walpin's conclusions in the Johnson investigation seemed overstated and, ultimately, biased. Last week, President Obama fired Walpin, saying he had lost confidence in the national service agency's inspector general. 

Again, this all seems, more or less, aboveboard. Obama is within his legal rights to terminate Walpin, and both Alan Solomont, chairman of the government-run Corporation for National and Community Service, and Stephen Goldsmith, a Republican and the board's vice chair, have said they backed the president's decision to can Walpin, a 2007 George W. Bush appointee. This hasn't stopped Senator Chuck Grassley from calling for an investigation.  Grassley seems to think Michelle Obama's behind all this, because her former chief of staff, Jackie Norris, is scheduled to join the Corporation for National and Community Service next week. That's quite a leap there, Senator Grassley. Even more impressive than this. 

I honestly don't think President Obama has anything to worry about; this is, after all, Johnson's problem, and a minor one at that. The Sacramento Bee isn't exactly calling for Johnson's head. I doubt very much, though, that Obama wants to get dragged into this squabble as he prepares to revamp the country's health care system.  

"Nacho I Give You Some Chees If U Change UR Mind"

God, I love Ron Artest. Per The Baseline's request, I checked Artest's Tweets during last night's Lakers-Magic game. He didn't disappoint. 

"You're My Favorite Water-Ski Accident"

Dwyane Wade is funnier than Jimmy Kimmel. Shocking, I know. But see for yourself. 

Yet Another Reason to Root Against the Nets

I'm not going to go into all the many, many ins-and-outs of the highly contentious Atlantic Yards development project, which consists of a new arena for the New Jersey Nets and 16 residential/office towers right in the heart of Brooklyn. For a full reckoning, take a look over here. By my unofficial tally, however, there are probably 1,000 or so reasons to be against the project. But until developer and Nets owner Bruce Ratner had the gaul to fire architect Frank Gehry in favor of Ellerbe Becket, the architectural equivalent of trading Michael Jordan for Kerry Kittles, nobody of institutional import dared to chime in against Ratner's plan. Enter the New York Times, whose line in the sand is, apparently, bad architecture:  

In a stunning bait-and-switch, Forest City Ratner (which was the development partner for The New York Times Company’s headquarters in Midtown) has now decided that it can’t afford an architect of Mr. Gehry’s stature. Neglecting to tell the public, the firm went out months ago and hired Ellerbe Becket, corporate architects known for producing generic, unimaginative buildings. And although it has refused to release details of the design, the renderings, obtained by The New York Times, tell you all you need to know.

A massive vaulted shed that rests on a masonry base, the arena is as glamorous as a storage warehouse. A rectangular window overlooks Atlantic, but without the other buildings it lacks the sense of mystery and surprise that was such an essential part of the Gehry design. A trapezoidal brick and glass box at the corner of Atlantic and Flatbush is obviously intended as an echo of Gehry’s public space. But Gehry’s room, several stories tall, soared over the intersection. Ellerbe Becket’s, lower to the ground, just sits there, adding nothing.

Building this monstrosity at such a critical urban intersection would be deadly. Clearly, the city would be better off with nothing. But what’s at issue here is more than the betrayal of a particular community, as tragic as that could be. It is the way the city makes decisions about large-sale development.

Forget about displaced residents; save the architects.

Gasol's Goaltending

I have always been under the impression that if a defensive player touched the rim during a shot, it was goaltending. Let's see what the league says:

RULE NO. 11-BASKETBALL INTERFERENCE-GOALTENDING
Section I-A Player Shall Not:
a. Touch the ball or the basket ring when the ball is using the basket ring as its lower base.
EXCEPTION: If a player near his own basket has his hand legally in contact with the ball, it is not a violation if his contact with the ball continues after the ball enters the cylinder, or if, in such action, he touches the basket.
b. Touch the ball when it is above the basket ring and within the imaginary cylinder.
c. For goaltending to occur, the ball, in the judgment of the official, must have a chance to score.
d. During a field goal attempt, touch a ball after it has touched any part of the backboard above ring level, whether the ball is considered on its upward or downward flight.
e. During a field goal attempt, touch a ball after it has touched the backboard below the ring level and while the ball is on its upward flight.
f. Trap the ball against the face of the backboard. (To be a trapped ball, three elements must exist simultaneously. The hand, the ball and the backboard must all occur at the same time. A batted ball against the backboard is not a trapped ball.)
g. Touch any live ball from within the playing area that is on its downward flight with an opportunity to touch the basket ring. This is considered to be a "field goal attempt" or trying for a goal.
h. Touch the ball at any time with a hand which is through the basket ring.
i. Vibrate the rim or backboard so as to cause the ball to make an
unnatural bounce. [Emphasis mine]

That's what I thought. The refs missed Howard's similar--and more egregious--goaltending earlier in the game. All things being equal, though, in the above photo, Gasol's clearly touching the rim, which, according to the league rules, is goaltending. Would Lee's shot have fallen if Gasol hadn't hit the rim? Maybe, maybe not. It certainly had a good chance of going in: hell, every fan in the country thought Lee had stolen the game. I certainly did, and, judging from Kobe's reaction in the above photo, he certainly thought so, too. In the end, the refs swallowed their whistles, and probably cost the Magic the game, and the series.

That, and Van Gundy's decision to play J.J. Redick 27 minutes.

(UPDATE: Phil Jackson confirms it. “Yeah, he got his hand caught in the rim in that one, no doubt about it,” Jackson said. “It's called basket interference is what it's called. Even if you hit the net supposedly in the process that's part of it, but that rule is kind of archaic. It isn't called in this day and age as much, but when we were in high school that was something a high school ref might call, basket interference. According to the rules [the right call] was not [made]. It wasn't made."

Win or Lose, Patrick Ewing Is Going to Be Disappointed

Patrick Ewing is one of my favorite professional athletes of all time. I grew up during his heyday with the Knicks. I watched him, each year, come tantalizingly close to breaking through against Michael Jordan and the Bulls. Finally, in 1994, while Jordan was off trying his hand at baseball, Ewing led the Knicks past the Indiana Pacers in the Eastern Conference Championship, putting up an amazing 24 points, 22 rebounds, 7 assists and 5 blocks in the decisive Game 7. A few weeks later, despite jumping out to a 3-1 series lead, Ewing and the Knicks ended up on the wrong side of Hakeem Olajuwan's Houston Rockets in the Finals. Later, in 1999, Ewing, out with a partially torn Achilles tendon, was forced to watch from the sidelines, as the Knicks, behind Allan Houston, Latrell Sprewell, Larry Johnson and Marcus Camby, made their improbable run to the Finals. That Knicks team lost in five games to the San Antonio Spurs, another goddam team from Texas. In his professional career, Ewing was 0-2 in the Finals. 

Like Charles Barkley, Karl Malone and John Stockton, Ewing's quest for a championship ended badly. To this day, Ewing is widely considered one of the greatest basketball players never to have won a ring, a dissonant, unforgiving list of Hall of Fame talents who came up short, a list that grows longer each passing year. As a fan, this remains my biggest disappointment in sports. Patrick, as he was known around my household, should have won. At least twice. The fact that he didn't continues to wrankle, even today. 

It seems to be messing with the Big Fella, too.  Yesterday, Ewing, now an assistant coach with the Eastern Conference Champion Orlando Magic, had this to say about the prospect of winning it all. "It means a lot," he said. "A player, coach, winning a championship means a lot. That will shut everybody up. Everyone who says I don't have one, it will shut them up when I do have one."

Does he really believe this? Could capturing an elusive championship as a coach possibly be as satisfying to Ewing as it would have been if he had delivered a ring to New York as its franchise player? Does Ewing really think an Orlando victory would separate him from the likes of Barkley and Malone? I'm sorry, Patrick, but this just isn't the case. If the Magic win it all, I'm sure Dwight Howard would be more than happy to credit Ewing with his inevitable development as a player. I'm sure, too, that Stan Van Gundy would continue to put in a good word for Ewing around the league as a possible head coaching candidate. But, ultimately, if the Magic go on to beat the Lakers, bragging rights would belong, almost exclusively, to the players, head coach and general manager, just as it always has, and just as it should remain. Ewing's championship contributions, on the other hand, will be noted, rather unceremoniously, somewhere between 12th-man Jeremy Richardson and Tom Smith, the Magic's athletic trainer.