The NBA trade deadline is usually much more livelier, but this season has seen a less exciting process. With the large amount of activity in the offseason, and most teams waiting for Josh Smith to be moved, Rudy Gay heading to Toronto was the largest move we have seen thus far. But Sacramento decided to make things a bit more interesting by trading former top-5 pick Thomas Robinson to Houston for Patrick Patterson, Toney Douglas, Cole Aldrich, and $1 million in cash. Houston also received Francisco Garcia and Tyler Honeycutt, along with a second-round pick from Phoenix. In return for the pick they sent Marcus Morris to Phoenix. This trade was mostly a platter of prospects and mediocre role players being moved, but it is not entirely devoid of intrigue. Read more…
Ah, the Sixth Man of the Year award. Obviously not as special as Most Valuable Player or Defensive Player of the Year, but still, fans seem to have a special affinity with it—the endearing concept of this “spark plug” who comes off the bench and tries to be as electric as possible while the starters sit.
Last year, new Rockets guard James Harden won the award, coming off the bench for 60 out of 62 games, and averaging around 17 points per game. With Harden out of Oklahoma City, it’s fair to say he’ll probably be starting, and many NBA analysts will have to change their pick for a potential winner. The crop of possibilities contain a few previous winners. No winner has repeated since Detlef Schrempf in the 1991-92 season, but it’s hard to pick otherwise, due to the production of some of these previous winners and their roles on their teams. Read more…
Kevin Garnett is a dick, right? I write that knowing full well he’s played the bad guy for the last five years in Boston, and was similarly antagonistic in Minnesota, except no one watched Minnesota for the last four seasons he was in town. Opposing fans refer to him like Romney supporters refer to Obama: he’s crazy, and not in a good way. Garnett doesn’t do much to dissuade them of this view either, seeming to revel in their antipathy.
He barks a lot on the court, with veins overtly announcing themselves on his sweat-drenched face; he bangs his head against the foam base of his basket’s risers before every game; he’s not against throwing an elbow or two or taking—borderline—cheap shots when he thinks the refs aren’t looking; he says inappropriate and demeaning things on the court to opposing players and teammates; he is so intense during games, even regular season games (the temerity!), it’s not a stretch to say that if an entrenched cubicle worker were to mimic his intensity, employment would be untenable and the worker might even risk institutionalization.
But Kevin Garnett cares about winning, and doesn’t mind sacrificing geniality in order to achieve that goal. He also might be one of the world’s best teammates and a genuinely nice guy, so long as it’s not in the time between an hour before tip-off, and when he leaves the arena.
I ask the following question with no disrespect and in the nicest possible way: Seriously, what is Greg Stiemsma? His inhabitance in the NBA is based on two things, size and desperate need for size. The fact that last night, in one of the most lopsided, dominant games played this season, Stiemsma posted a +/- of +1, playing more minutes than any Celtic except for Brandon Bass, is beyond weird, and only begins to devalue the logic of a traditional box score and what it can tell us about a player’s impact. I would feel legitimate guilt if I didn’t say Stiemsma was more than positive in influencing Boston’s merciless obliteration of Nate McMillan’s tenure. He swatted shots. He offered himself up as a threat in spacing the floor. He was an undeniable presence.