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."

Some Much-Needed Joba Sanity

The Joba-t0-the-pen debate rages on, even in the wake of the kid's impressive 8-inning outing against the Indians. I, for one, want Joba to remain in the starting rotation, although I do miss the energy of his late-game appearances. When he first came up, his appearances, which were initially  limited to every other day because of the famous "Joba Rules," became an event, bordering, at times, on pandemonium. Of course, it wasn't simply Joba's one inning of dominance that caught people's attention. It was his fearlessness, his un-Yankee-like histrionics that got people going. His nasty slider and 100-mph fastball didn't hurt either. As I wrote following Joba's eventual 12-strike out performance against the Red Sox earlier this year, Joba needs a certain level of intensity, a specific knock-and-tumble vigor to succeed, whether he's pitching in the 8th inning or every fifth day. Yes, I think Joba should start, but I also want him to be Joba, "disrespectful" fist pumps and all. These two things aren't mutually exclusive; in fact, they're symbiotic.  

Still, despite the constant protestations of RAB and Tyler Kepner and, yup, the Yankees, members of the media--specifically Mike Francesa and ESPN-- seem to think Joba, who they consider the next Goose Gossage, should be coming out of the pen. Nothing short of a Cy Young Award, it seems, can dissuade them of their short-sighted opinions about Joba's usefulness to the club. And I'm fine with that. They're entitled to their opinion, no matter how misguided or uninformed it happens to be. Some people still vote Republican, after all. It's nice, though, to have a national voice weigh in on the debate. SI's Tim Marchman speaks the truth thusly:

Starters are more valuable than relievers, and Chamberlain is showing every sign of developing into a wonderful starter; therefore, he should start. Simple. 

[Snip]

There are complicated decisions to be made in baseball. Neither this nor any similar argument involving any young pitcher is really one of them. If Chamberlain is hurt, or if the Yankees obtain access to a time machine and learn that he really is much better than Mariano Rivera, they should by all means listen to the outraged minority and consign to the bullpen a 23-year-old with every chance at being the best pitcher they've developed since Whitey Ford. Otherwise, they should leave him alone where everyone can enjoy him. He's doing fine.

I'd say he's doing better than fine, but let's not argue about semantics. Joba's proving his worth in the rotation, right where he belongs. 

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.   

Revisiting Ali-Frazier

A few months ago, I wrote about John Shearer's iconic photograph of Muhammed Ali and Joe Frazier, which Shearer snapped on the eve of the two men's first fight. Frazier, of course, won the first, while Ali took the following two, including the particularly brutal and physically exhausting "Thrilla in Manilla." The lead up to the decisive fight was intense. At different times, Ali referred to Frazier as either an "Uncle Tom," or the "White Man's Champion," or, crudely, "a dumb gorilla." During a pre-fight press conference, Ali used the opportunity to beat up a rubber gorilla, taunting, "It's gonna be a chilla, and a killa, and a thriller, when I get the Gorilla in Manila." Frazier, it seems, never got over Ali's verbal attacks. Here's an excerpt from a 1996 Sports Illustrated story about Frazier's lingering animosity. 

Back in the States, Ali called Lewis and asked him for Frazier's private number. Ali told Lewis that he wanted to apologize to Frazier for some of the things he had said. Lewis called Frazier, but, he says, Frazier told him. "Don't give it to him."

In the 21 years since then, Ali and Frazier have seen each other at numerous affairs, and Frazier has barely disguised the loathing he feels toward his old antagonist. In 1988, for the taping of a film called Champions Forever, five former heavyweight title holders--Ali, Frazier, Foreman, Larry Holmes and Ken Norton--gathered in Las Vegas. A crowd of people were at Johnny Tocco's Gym for a morning shoot when Frazier started in on Ali, who was already debilitated by Parkinson's. "Look at Ali," Frazier said. "Look what's happened to him. All your talkin', man. I'm faster than you are now. You're damaged goods."

"I'm faster than you are, Joe," Ali slurred. Pointing to a heavy bag, Ali suggested a contest: "Let's see who hits the bag the fastest."

Frazier grinned, not knowing he was back in the slaughterhouse. He stripped off his coat, strode to the bag and buried a dozen rapid-fire hooks in it, punctuating each rip with a loud grunt: "Huh! Huh! Huh!" Without removing his coat, Ali went to the bag, assumed the ready stance and mimicked one Frazier grunt: "Huh!" He had not thrown a punch. He turned slowly to Frazier and said, "Wanna see it again, Joe?" In the uproar of hilarity that ensued, only Frazier did not laugh. Ali had humiliated him again.

After the shoot, at a luncheon for the fighters, Frazier had too much to drink, and afterward, as people milled around the room and talked, he started walking toward Ali. Thomas Hauser, Ali's chronicler, watched the scene that unfolded over the next 20 minutes. Holmes quietly positioned himself between Ali and Frazier. "Joe was trying to get to Ali," Hauser says, "but wherever Joe went, left or right, Holmes would step between him and Ali. Physically shielding him. Joe was frustrated. After about 10 minutes of this, Foreman walked up to Larry and said, 'I'll take over.' " So for the next 10 minutes Frazier quietly tried to get around 290 pounds of assimilated Big Macs. At one point Frazier leaned into Foreman, but Foreman only leaned back. "Keep it cool, Joe," Foreman whispered. "Be calm."

Ali had no idea this was going on. "He was walking around like Mr. Magoo," says Hauser. "He was oblivious."

Like Shearer's photo, the public--and, later, semi-private--exchange between the two men, which took place more than 20 years after they last squared off in the ring, gets to the heart of each man: Ali's charismatic, rope-a-dope guile and Frazier's smoldering, brute force. Is it surprising, then, that Ali ended up getting the best of Frazier, even in retirement?  

(Via Coates)

A-Jax on Track for 2010?

Tyler Kepner's out with a tantalizing feature of Austin Jackson, the Yankees' top prospect, who's currently hitting .349 in .AAA and just about on pace to make significant contributions to the team next season. Jackson's hitting coach, Butch Wynegar, a pretty good hitter in his time, is absolutely over the moon about his pupil, even going so far as to compare Jackson's baseball development to Hall of Famer Kirby Puckett's. Mind you, he didn't say a thing about a shared talent level, just Jackson's Puckett-esque potential to develop home run power in the Majors.

“There’s nothing about Austin — defense, arm, base running, nothing — that gives me any doubts that he’s going to be a good player one day,” said the Class AAA hitting coach Butch Wynegar. “I just hope nothing happens at the big-league level where they yank him out of here premature. I’d love to see him stay here all year, see what kind of year he has and go from there. Because he’s not there yet.”

We've been down this road before with the Yankees. It seems like every other year, the organization touts marginal-to-good prospects, like Eric Duncan, Jose Tabata, and Drew Henson, for instance, only to see them fizzle out or play their way out of the system. As Wynegar points out, Jackson is still very much a work-in-progress. His tendency to strike out, to take just one example, is more than a little troublesome, to say the least. I'm not yet quite ready to anoint him the team's next great center fielder, but I am looking forward to seeing what this 22-year-old kid can do in the Majors, hopefully around this time next year. 

The Competition

50 Games In, Yankees Off to a Promising Start

Earlier this season, after the Yankees had dropped their fifth consecutive loss to the Red Sox, I was tempted to write off the team’s chances for capturing their 27th World Championship. The bullpen, behind an embarrassing 5.79 ERA, was the second worst relieving corps in the Majors. The once untouchable Mariano was starting to show cracks, serving up almost as many home runs in his first dozen or so appearances than he did all of last season. The starting pitching wasn’t faring much better. From CC to Joba, the Yankees’ front five performed somewhere between wildly inconsistent and wholly ineffective. Offensively, the Yankees were stuck in a rut, despite averaging about 5 runs per game. Mark Teixeira, the Yankees’ high-priced first baseman through Obama’s second term, couldn’t hit his weight, and was even more dreadful in RBI opportunities. Through April, the Yankees, as a team, were hitting an anemic .237 with runners in scoring position. If it weren’t for Nick Swisher’s and Johnny Damon’s unbelievable first month, the Yankees could have easily been 10 games out, buried in the standings before Alex Rodriguez, out with a hip injury, played a single game. (Cody Ransom, Rodriguez’s replacement, had an equal number of strikeouts as he did hits).

But then a funny thing happened. A-Rod returned, and since May 8, the Yankees have gone a league-best 16-6, an impressive streak that included three consecutive walk-off wins and nine straight victories in as many days. At 29-21, the Bombers currently sit atop of the standings, and are finally living up to their moniker. In May, Teixeira hit .375 and drove in 35 runs, while A-Rod, in 22 games, has seven home runs and 17 RBI. Jorge is finally healthy. Jeter is still playing at a Jeterian level. Cano’s kept up his torrid pace. Melky’s finally playing at a consistent level. And the team’s defense is the best it’s been in years. In yesterday afternoon's loss to the Cleveland Indians, the Yankees tied a Major League record with their 17th-straight game without an error.

Behind staff ace CC Sabathia, the starting pitching, which now includes Phil Hughes, is finally living up to expectations. Despite a few recent subpar outings, A.J. Burnett finally thinks he's figured out his mechanical--and mental--issues, while Andy Pettitte has locked down the back end of the rotation. The calls for Joba to the pen continue, but the kid, even with a less than impressive WHIP, is making  a strong case for why he should stay in the rotation, not just this year, but for the rest of his career. In the later innings, Mariano Rivera has returned to form, and Alfredo Aceves, the second coming of Ramiro Mendoza, has quickly emerged as a late-game stopper and reliable innings-eater. Meanwhile, erstwhile starter Chien-Ming Wang is rounding back into form: his velocity—and his signature sinker—is back, and his ERA, once an unsightly 35, is now a more manageable 16.07, spitting distance to Daisuke Matsuzaka, ESPN's favorite titular ace.

Although the team still needs to figure out the bullpen situation--and some questionable roster decisions-- I'm now much more confident in the Yankees' chances of reaching the postseason, after last year's absence, than I was in early April, just a few weeks ago. I even like their odds of capturing that elusive 27th championship this October.