It's Not Wise To Bet Against LeBron James

LeBron James appeared on "60 Minutes" Sunday night, but before the episode aired you had probably already seen the clip of his miraculous circus shot. In it, James - while filming a segment with Steve Kroft at The House The King Built, a.k.a the gym of his alma mater, St. Vincent-St. Mary High School - effortlessly tosses a one-handed, underhanded shot into the basket from 60 feet away.

Swish.

If you or I were to make a shot like that, we would have no choice but to celebrate; it would be an organic reaction to making a miracle shot that we didn't really expect to make. But LeBron doesn't treat it like a lucky shot; in fact, he even shoots it like he knows it's going to go in. His response to its tickling off the net is both cocky and causal. Perhaps not surprisingly, then, LeBron has a reputation for making such trick baskets. These seemingly trivial feats make James seem like a mythic figure walking the earth, the kind of athlete my generations kids will tell their grand-kids legends about, fact mixed in with fiction. They make him seem like a modern-day Babe Ruth.

Which he pretty much is.

Should he win the MVP? Pfft. Don't insult him. Of course he should win the MVP. It's his birthright. He was literally put on this earth to collect Maurice Podoloff Trophy's. Sure, I can think of several reasons for both Dwyane Wade and Kobe Bryant as to why those two gentlemen are deserving of the award. But I can also think of one major reason why they are not: LeBron James. The "King" has learned to dominate on both ends, he's led a much improved (by the single acquisition of point guard Mo Williams) but still not great collection of teammates to the league's best record (61-14 through Thursday, a full two games ahead of Kobe and the Lakers), and he's having one of the best all-around statistical seasons anyone has ever had. He is the MVP. Just hand him the damn trophy now.

The real question should be, Can he walk on water?

By the time LeBron James was 16, he was already the best high school basketball player in the country, the only sophomore ever selected first-team All-American. As a junior he made the cover of Sports Illustrated, the venerable magazine dubbing him "The Chosen One." As a senior, he started the trend of ESPN airing high school games showcasing the nations best prep ballplayers. He entered the pro game amid an unprecedented level of scrutiny and expectation, which he couldn't possibly live up to, everyone thought. Afterall, he was only a kid.

And so in his very first NBA game, he put up a 25-6-9 against a championship-contending Sacramento squad. Thus began the legend of LeBron James. Everything that has followed since has been an extension of that night: One of the ten best players in the league by the end of his rookie season; top five by the end of his second; 31-7-6 in his third year, at 21; leading an otherwise horrific Cavs team to the Finals at 22; putting up a 30-8-7 last season; and this season, taking his game to yet another level and establishing himself as perhaps the best NBA player since Michael Jordan, even though he's still several years removed from the onset of his prime.

The moniker given to him by SI is now also a tattoo spread across his upper back, and I have already in this article given an effort to properly define his greatness by making an allusion to a feat accomplished only by Jesus. James does inspire sacrilege. As far as basketball players go, he may be the most God-like we've seen. His physical makeup, when conjoined with the nature of his athleticism, seems unreasonable. That someone so big and burly could also be so fast, quick, agile, and explosive does not seem anatomically possible. But through James we see that it is.

It would seem unlikely that a team as humbly composed as the Cavaliers of James' first five seasons could challenge, step for step, such superior (on paper) squadrons as the Chauncey Billups-led powerhouse Detroit Pistons and the current Boston Celtics. But they did.

Even this season, with the addition of Williams, Cleveland has overachieved. Williams is a very good point guard, but ideally, you'd want him as your third best player, not your second, especially if you planned on winning 65-plus games. And yet the Cavs march on, the best win total in team history and counting, more than any other reason because LeBron is, by his lonesome, better than many teams' two best players combined.

Here is the point: At Cleveland's media day back in September, James said of the Cavs championship aspirations, "There's not much of an excuse now." They have cruised through the regular season, and now the playoffs approach rapidly.

So, James' exploits being what they are, is there any reason to believe that his preseason stance will not result in a Cleveland championship?

As a Lakers fan, LeBron's words worried me. I took them as an ominous warning. Eight months later, I'm still scared, even though I think the Lakers have the best team.

The Cavs put the fear of LeBron in me.

Kareem Abdul-Jabbar: The (Relatively) Neglected Legend

He was arguably the greatest high school basketball player who ever lived - three consecutive New York City Catholic championships at the fabled Power Memorial High School in New York, New York, and certified phenom status.

He was almost certainly the greatest college basketball player of all-time - three Player of the Year awards and three national titles in three years playing for John Wooden at empirical UCLA (sorry, Big Red Head - you only won two titles).

And while Michael Jordan was the best NBA player to ever lace them up, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar was perhaps the most accomplished, with his 19 All-Star game appearances, 6 MVPs, and 6 championships, etc.

And yet, the basketball legend born Ferdinand Lewis Alcindor Jr. remains more than a tad bit underrated, and in his retirement, he has been something resembling blackballed.

Abdul-Jabbar was elegant and unstoppable on the court, and thoughtful, intelligent, and articulate off it. But he was also shy and moody - his mood tending to lean very heavily in the antisocial direction for most of his career, which led to his adversarial relationship with the media.

Abdul-Jabbar hasn't played basketball in 20 years, but that aspect of his personality still lingers and haunts him to this day, even if he has changed. And it hurts him on at least a couple of fronts.

Alcindor arrived in Westwood in 1966, to much fanfare. He was LeBron James before LeBron James. In his college debut (and the inaugural game at the brand-new Pauley Pavillion), Alcindor led the Bruins freshman team to a 15-point victory over the preseason no.1 ranked UCLA varsity, who had won the first two of Wooden's ten national titles in 1964 and 1965.

In each of his three seasons on the varsity, the Bruins would win the NCAA title, amassing a total of 88 wins versus only two losses during that span, with Alcindor averaging more than 26 points and 15 rebounds per game. In his senior year of 1969 Alcindor was awarded the initial Naismith Men's College Player of the Year Award, after winning the AP award the previous two seasons.

So awesome was Alcindor that the NCAA banned dunking after his freshman year, in a useless attempt to curb his dominance.

Drafted by the Milwaukee Bucks with the first overall selection in the 1969 NBA draft, Alcindor entered the pro ranks at an auspicious moment: on the heels of Bill Russell's retirement and at the toe's of Wilt Chamberlain's 33rd birthday. A window was on the verge of widely opening for a new giant to enter through and dominate the game, and carry on the tradition of great centers.

Alcindor did not disappoint. In his rookie season he averaged 29 points and 15 rebounds per game. In his second season he led the Milwaukee Bucks to their first and only NBA championship, winning the Finals MVP for his efforts in the 4-0 sweep of the Washington Bullets. The day after winning the championship, he officially changed his name to Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, as part of a conversion to Islam that had taken place years prior.

But only the name on the back of the jersey would change, as Abdul-Jabbar would continue to play at his usual dominating level. During the 1970s, he won five regular season MVPs, and developed his signature move, the unblockable sky-hook, which would carry him to more than 38,000 points. In 1975 he would be traded to the Los Angeles Lakers, where he led a group of good, but not great, ballplayers to the playoffs several times with no championship success.

However, this would change in 1979, when a rookie guard named Magic Johnson joined the club. In their first season as teammates, Abdul-Jabbar, now 33, would win his final, and still record, sixth MVP award, and the Lakers would win the first of five titles during the 1980s. Six years later, he was still averaging more than 20 points per game. In 1985 he had won a second Finals MVP award, as the Lakers beat the Boston Celtics for the first time ever in the championship series, highlighted by Abdul-Jabbar's famous 30 point, 17 rebound, 8 assist, 3 block performance in a huge Game 2 win at Boston Garden - a direct response to a poor showing in Game 1's 148-114 loss, commonly referred to as the "Memorial Day Massacre."

Today, Abdul-Jabbar stands as the game's all-time leader in total points, field goals made, minutes played, and All-Star game selections, and being the complete player that he was, he also ranks in the top-five in total rebounds and blocks. Furthermore, he is the sole inventor of the most unstoppable shot in basketball history, as well as the only man to ever use it, let alone perfect it. His pro career was an achievement in longevity and conditioning; no one else has ever played so well for so long. And few were as great in their primes.

Which creates the contradiction.

In 2003, SLAM Magazine did a list ranking the 75 best players in NBA annals. And in this list they ranked Abdul-Jabbar...seventh. Seventh? How can someone with Abdul-Jabbar's resume be ranked only seventh? Fundamentally, it makes no sense. Sure, Magic was really the most indispensable player on the Showtime Lakers, and sure, Magic and Co. sort of carried him to those last two titles. But that is nitpicking. This was a clearly distinguished basketball player. Obviously, the list was in no way definitive, but it is consistent with the persistent undervaluing of Abdul-Jabbar's career.

My opinion? Despite his obvious greatness, Abdul-Jabbar was never beloved. But more importantly, he was never even liked by the media, whom he distrusted and avoided. And the fourth estate is the most powerful in all of sports. They are the ones who burnish the reputations and make the myths. At All-Star weekend, Phil Jackson, speaking of his once feuding former superstar duo, Shaquille O'Neal and Kobe Bryant, said, "The last man standing writes the history." This is so true. But here's the thing: The media will always be the last one's standing. They will outlast any athlete. And so they write the history. And so while they have not actively sought to sabotage Kareem, they also have not actively tried to pimp him, to cultivate his legend. He has never truly received the proper amount of attention, the kind of attention his exploits would seem to demand.

Which is why SLAM, a magazine founded in 1992, driven by writers who belong to the hip-hop era and the urban culture of the 1990s, ranked him at no. 7: not because they have any personal biases against a man that none of them likely ever covered or got to know very well, but because they have been impacted by the lack of recognition given to him by their older colleagues, who reported on him during his playing days and had the power to cultivate his legacy and ensure that he receive his just due, but did not.

In actuality, no basketball player, living or dead, had a more stellar overall career. But how often is that truth spoken?

What I cannot blame the media for, though, is Abdul-Jabbar's middling coaching career. He has been an assistant coach with the Los Angeles Clippers and the Seattle SuperSonics, and a scout with the New York Knicks. His only head coaching experience came in the USBL, where he led the Oklahoma Storm to the league championship in 2002. Since 2005 he has occupied a special position as a tutor for Lakers centers, specifically youngster Andrew Bynum, whom he has helped develop into one of the game's best pivots.

And yet, NBA teams remain reluctant to give Abdul-Jabbar a head coaching position, fearing that he does not have the requisite people skills for the job. He has mellowed considerably since his playing days, but the past is a hard thing to shake.

No one is to be accosted for this. Abdul-Jabbar cannot be faulted for his once distant nature, nor can any NBA general manager be faulted for having the doubts that they have about him. But it is unfortunate. Magic got to be a head coach in the NBA, as did Larry Bird, and Jerry West, and Bill Russell. Kareem wants to be a head coach in the NBA, but no one will hire him. And for that I feel sorry for him.

You'd think his illustrious list of achievements would have earned him a shot, just the respect that they signal for, but they haven't. But this shouldn't be surprising, because they also haven't earned him the recognition he deserves as basketball's all-time most decorated player. This congruence can be traced back to his personality. His star can't help but shine, but it doesn't shine as brightly as it should.

Kareem Abdul-Jabbar should be getting a better deal.

The Revenge of Dwyane "Omar" Wade

The way Dwyane Wade has been playing this season, he reminds me of Omar in seasons 1 and 5 of "The Wire." Offended by Baltimore's most prominent and ruthless drug dealers, his crew depleted, HBO's likable stickup artist goes on the hunt for revenge all by his lonesome. He more than held his own, did his share of killing, but was ultimately gunned down.

After two injury marred seasons, in which he missed a combined 62 games, you could almost say people had forgotten Dwyane Wade's name, or at least the way it made them feel only three years ago. And so, a chip on both shoulders, Flash set out this season to refresh memories. He has succeeded. His body leaner than ever, with hops and quickness fully intact and a new weapon - a perfected 20-foot jump shot, his version of Omar's trusty shotgun - at his disposal, Mr. Wade is having one of the best year's of any player this decade.

The one man on a one-man team, Wade has dragged the Heat into contention. They are 33-29, fifth place in the East and only a game and a half out of home-court advantage in the first round of the playoffs. Bet on Wade getting them that spot. Coming into Saturday's game against Cleveland, he was averaging 29.5 points (first in the league), 5.1 rebounds, 7.5 assists (third), 2.2 steals (third) and 1.4 blocks (21st). The points, assists, steals, and blocks are all career-highs. He has scored 40 or more points in a league-best nine games. He is on pace to record the most swats ever for a player 6-4 or shorter.

On February 22nd, he scored a career-best 50 against the Magic in Orlando (albeit in a 23 point defeat). In the nine games heading into Saturday, he was averaging 36.4 points and 10.6 assists on 57.8 shooting from the field! When's the last time anyone put up numbers like that over two weeks?

Always a fearless competitor, Wade has been downright bloodthirsty this year. He's been on a mission. The Heat have a rookie head coach. They start a rookie point guard. Their second leading scorer is a rookie, and he only averages 14 points per game. Their second best player for the first half of the season was Shawn Marion, who's either past his prime at the age of 30 or was simply of greatly diminished value to them in their half-court style of play. Near the trade deadline he was dealt to Toronto in exchange for Jermaine O'Neal, also 30, who is about half the player he once was.

And yet, the Heat remain above water, all because Wade has ascended to a level of play matched by few guards in the last 30 years.

As a pure scorer, Wade, 27, now most closely resembles a first-three-peat-era Michael Jordan. But while MJ was a true two, Wade is a throwback to the 60s, when there was no such thing as "point guard" (well, other than Bob Cousy, I guess) or "shooting guard" - backcourt players were simply called "guards." Thus, we'd have to go back further than 30 years to find the last time a pure "guard" was playing as well: Jerry West, when he was wreaking havoc with the Lakers.

But here's the thing: As we inch closer to the playoffs, we get nearer the time of year when Wade does his best work. He's been a killer since way back, especially in the postseason. He put himself on the map during his sophomore year in college, when he dropped a 29-11-11 on top-ranked, top-seeded Kentucky to advance Marquette to the Final Four (it was only the third triple-double in NCAA tournament history).

His rookie year in the NBA he led a young Miami team that had gone only 42-40 during the regular season to the second round of the playoffs, where they gave a 61-win Indiana team all they could handle and he authored his famous facial on Jermaine O'Neal, one of the best postseason posterizations of the decade (you may also remember the game-winner he hit against the Hornets in the first round - sorry, Baron).

The next year he (along with Shaq) got the Heat within a game of the Finals, and the following spring he would take down all comers - his performance in the championship series against Dallas one of the greatest of all-time (35, 8, and 4 in a 4-2 win for Miami). 'Bron, Howard, Paul, even Kobe - none of them has a Finals MVP trophy. He does.

In other words, if you are an East playoff team, you should have a healthy fear of Mr. Wade this spring. He may be outnumbered, but as he's been showing us all year, he's still got it. In fact, he's more dangerous than ever. Wade's been kicking ass all year, but what better way for him provide exclamation for his mini-comeback than to win a series in the playoffs, then make one of the East's big dogs sweat some in the second round.

It'd be like watching Omar terrorize Marlo Stanfield and crew by himself. Maybe the odds would beat him in the end, but it would nonetheless make for some riveting TV.

The Ongoing Disgracing of Allen Iverson

First, the Pistons traded for him, and asked him to fit into a system that is not meant for him, that has never been meant for him, that is the polar opposite of a system that he could ever fit into. They were asking him to, at 33 and in his thirteenth season, become a player that is the antithesis of the player he has always been.

They struggled, a perennial powerhouse fading into mediocrity.

Then, Allen Iverson got hurt.

The Pistons have now won three in a row without him, with Rip Hamilton reclaiming his starting position in The Answer's absence.

When he comes back from a back injury, Allen Iverson will accept a role off the bench, per the request of his head coach, and the sake of his team.

Four-time scoring champion, owner of the third highest scoring average in NBA history, former MVP, and he's being treated like some kind of chump.

If you asked Allen Iverson to speak with an honest tongue (meaning if you just asked him a question), he'd probably tell you this has been the most unfair season of his career, as well as the one in which he's felt the most disrespected.

How was he ever going to fit in in Detroit if they were going to use him like they have? When the deal was made, I thought the Pistons would be the perfect fit for him. But I assumed the Pistons brass, namely new head coach Michael Curry, would be cognizant of the fact that they had to tailor their structure to accommodate Iverson, not the other way around.

Iverson has always been a player who dominated the ball in his team's offense, and his most accomplished season came in 2001 in Philly, when he was surrounded by one great defensive star (Dikembe Mutombo, acquired halfway through the season for shotblocker Theo Ratliff) and a bunch of role players (Tyrone Hill, George Lynch, Eric Snow, Matt Geiger, Todd MacCullough, Jumaine Jones, Raja Bell, and Kevin Ollie) who not only weren't scorers, but embraced the fact that none of them were going to have many opportunities to be one. Iverson accounted for about a third of the team's shot attempts, and everyone else picked up the scraps and did the dirty work. And A.I. won his only MVP as Philly won 56 games and made the Finals.

Now, he was going to the team long acknowledged and praised as the most cohesive in basketball, because of the ability of their key players to perform their roles so well, always within the framework of the team. The Joe Dumars Pistons of this early 21st century will always be remembered as a fiercely strong unit of five, who eschewed the notion of any superstar pecking order and stood as a shining example of basketball in its most idealistic form. In other words, they were all unselfish.

Three of the Pistons famed starting five remained - Tayshaun Prince, Rasheed Wallace, and Hamilton. Prince and Wallace are just like the people Iverson played with in Philly, only much more talented. Both of them are capable of more impressive individual statistics, but neither of them has the personality to even assert themselves (sometimes to the detriment of the team, actually), let alone put their own interest over that of the team. They just want to do the little things.

Hamilton is a scorer, but not a one-on-one player - he thrives off of his ability to score without the ball.

Here's what the Pistons should have done: started Iverson and Hamilton at the guards, with Prince, Wallace, and whoever up front, then play Prince at the point forward and make him responsible for finding Rip on those curl screens and feeding Sheed for the occasional post-up.

Instead, the Pistons are 30-29, and A.I. is looking like the fall guy.

Granted, we don't even really know how good Allen Iverson is anymore. Playing in the Detroit system, where they ask you to be one of five, has obviously hindered Allen's scoring average. And his shooting percentage is the lowest it's been since 2004. And his quiet accordance with his pending demotion to substitute status suggests that maybe he realizes he is past his prime. Or maybe he's just desperate and willing to do whatever it takes to win as he understands that time is beginning to work against him in his quest to win a championship. But something tells me Allen Iverson could still average 25 points a game, given the green light.

And sure, he may prove to be a huge asset to Detroit as their sixth man. Afterall, at least on paper, few players have ever been better suited for the Barbosa-Gordon-Microwave super-net-soaker role than Iverson. He's overqualified for that role.

But the fact remains that he's Allen Freaking Iverson - to paraphrase Mark Jackson, Don't you know his name? You know his work - and at the very least he's still good enough that he shouldn't have anyone even asking him to come off the bleeping bench. He deserves better. But I guess Snoop was right when she said deserve ain't got nothing to do with it.

Bryant's 61 Reminds Us Of His Greatness

Just when I thought that I couldn't possibly write any more words, when I thought I was burned out after producing three full-length articles in a week and wouldn't even try to muster another one for at least another week, Kobe Bryant dropped 61 points on the Knicks in New York and left me no choice.

It was the most ever scored at Madison Square Garden, surpassing the 60 former 'Bocker great Bernard King scored there on Christmas Day, 1984 (when he was maybe one of the top three players alive, along with Magic and Bird).

In a season in which LeBron James has received more press attention and admiration, surpassed him in the eyes of many as the game's best player, and been touted as the man who will succeed him as league MVP, it only took one mind-boggling performance for Kobe Bryant to remind everyone that he's still Kobe Freaking Bryant and he hasn't gone anywhere, and won't be going anywhere soon.

Known for his icy on-court intensity, Mr. Bryant looked as serious and focused on this night as he has during any single game of his brilliant, 13-year career. Earlier Monday it was announced that center Andrew Bynum would miss two to three months with (another) serious knee injury. After his instantly classic performance Bryant explained that he wanted to make sure his team didn't come out flat against the Knicks as a result of the bad news.

He succeeded, scoring 18 of Los Angeles' 31 first quarter points, as I planned a column for later in the week on Bryant's greatness. Then he scored 16 more in the second period as the Lakers took an 11-point halftime lead. After 12 more in the third and 15 in the fourth, Bryant had set a new Garden record, with a point total that will remind all New Yorkers of a deceased Yankee who also set a mark, and had a career, defined by the number 61 (although of course that record has now fallen).

And I had no choice but to write that article now.

Most great, great NBA players have been content with allowing their natural abilities to decline, watching the younger generation of superstars assume their positions, and fading into retirement satisfied with their accomplishments, then waiting five years before accepting their induction into the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall-of-Fame.

Not men like Bryant and Michael Jordan, maniacally competitive athletes inherently obsessed with being the best. Jordan reshaped his game as he hit his mid-30s, becoming a dead-eye jump shooter and perhaps the game's all-time deadliest guard post player, relying on his textbook fundamentals and supreme basketball intelligence to combat the fact that he was no longer an acrobat. All of this was done in an intelligent, calculated effort to maintain his eminence.

Similarly, Bryant is now 30 and as a result of his early entry into the league and the large number of postseason games he has played in, possesses more mileage than the average player that age. And so, while still a very gifted athlete, Bryant is no longer quite the explosive leaper he once was. Furthermore, and maybe even more importantly, Bryant realizes that aggressively attacking the basket will only add to the wear and tear on his body and make him more easily fatigued later on down the line.

So Bryant, like Jordan before him, has made the jump shot his best friend, and we all wish we had best friend's like Kobe Bryant's jump shot. It has become so accurate that he is currently shooting the best floor percentage of his career (48 percent). It was on full display in Gotham, as he sliced the Knicks to pieces with a barrage of short and mid-range jumpers. He shot 19-of-31 overall, including 3-of-6 from deep, and made all 20 of his free throws.

His footwork and ballhandling is flawless, and his ingenuity is unmatched, so he can create an opportunity for a shot, as well as the space he needs to get off a good look, at any time. The smartest player in the league, Bryant is canny as hell and always keeps a defender off-balance. And so when the occasion occurs, he'll still use his explosive first step to drive past his defender and to the hoop. He even moves well without the ball.

Kobe is playing a game of cat and mouse on the basketball court, and on this night, like virtually every other, he was Jerry and the man guarding him (most notably Wilson Chandler, who was the most scorched) was Tom.

Along the way, Bryant surpassed MJ's visiting player record of 55. It was his 25th career 50+ point game, moving him within five of Jordan's 30 for second most all-time (behind Wilt Chamberlain's 6,000, or however many he had). One can only wonder how many Bryant would have if he hadn't spent eight seasons sharing shots with Shaq.

It was also the fifth sixty point game of his career (all coming in the last three seasons).

He may be the best pure scorer ever, and he's a better player than he's ever been.

Monday night, he redirected our attention to his greatness.

LeBron plays there Wednesday night.

A Night To Remember

The query is sure to be thrown around.

Was that the best Super Bowl game ever played?

If it wasn't definitively, an argument can be made that it definitively was, and at the very least, it was as good as any ever.

Cardinals-Steelers couldn't have matched Giants-Patriots in terms of historical scope, even if the long suffering Cards had won. Super Bowl XLII had more at stake. But in terms of sheer, pound-for-pound excitement, it can't possibly be surpassed. It was a spectacle of a football game to behold.

It had it all.

We had Kurt Warner and Larry Fitzgerald giving heroic performances in a crushing loss, the Cardinals quarterback earning his Canton bust despite the outcome, the Cardinals receiver taking over the fourth quarter as only he and a handful of receivers in the history of the league could.

But then we had MVP Santonio Holmes matching Fitzgerald step-for-step, catching four passes on the Steelers' game-winning drive, including the touchdown, then celebrating by mimicking LeBron James' famous pre-game ritual (the gesture lost on Madden and Michael's).

Before Sunday's tipoff, anybody who said that Ben Roethlisberger wasn't a great quarterback was merely mistaken; now, they just look foolish (more on this in a second).

We had a 100-yard interception return for a touchdown, a ton of penalites (none of which proved to be too costly), an improbable rally by the underdog that sent one fan base into a temporary catatonic state, followed by an immediate response that will permanently damage another.

My heart was pounding and my city doesn't even have a professional football team; for Cardinals and Giants fans the unfolding drama must have been nearly unbearable.

Mixed in between we even had a few memorable commercials.

Warner has now recorded the top-3 single-game passage yardage performances in SB history. He has led three teams to the Big Game, one of them the NFL's version of the Los Angeles Clippers, and he nearly won it for them. In this one, Warner finished 31-of-43 for 377 yards, 3 touchdowns, and 1 interception, rallied his team back from a 20-7 fourth quarter deficit against the league's best defense, and cemented his place in the Pro Football Hall-of-Fame.

His playmate Fitzgerald provided further proof to the adage that you can't keep a good man down for long, dominating the fourth quarter after being held in check for the first three. His line: 7 catches for 127 yards and two scores, both of them in the final frame. We may call him the best football player alive.

Timeout:

My favorite commercials of the night:

3. Cars.com: David Abernathy - At childbirth, David congratulates the doctor on a perfect delivery with a handshake (among other impressive feats, but he still can't decide on a car any better than the rest of us).

2. Pepsi Max: I'm Good - No matter what unfortunate accident befalls man - whether it be getting hit with a backswing, having a bowling ball dropped on their head, or being electrocuted and ejected from the top of a ladder and violently slammed off the side of a truck - they can take it. What they couldn't take is "the taste of diet Cola - until now."

1. E*Trade: Talking Baby - You know, the business savvy (not to mention absoultely adorable) little baby at the computer who gives investment tips. This time he's joined by a friend, who blesses us with a little rendition of the song "Broken Wings," which was once sampled on this posthumous Tupac track.

Time in.

We all knew that Holmes was a very good young receiver and dangerous deep threat, but I, for one, had no idea he was capable of taking over the last three minutes of the Super Bowl. 9 catches for 131 yards and the season's winning touchdown reception. Holmes may never be as dominant, at least on a consistent basis, as he was in the pressure-cooker moments of Sunday night's affair, but for at least one evening he was legendary.

On NBC's pre-game telecast, guest analyst Rodney Harrison stated that Roethlisberger was not a great quarterback but a great football, which could possibly be interpreted as a backhanded compliment. But John Elway wasn't really a great quarterback, either, in the pocket-passer sense - at least not as a young player, as all of his best pure throwing seasons came after the age of 32).

And besides, everyone seems to be ignoring a strong mitigating factor in the whole "Ben not that really that good," "Ben game-manager," and "Ben Troy Aikman in black and yellow" (another back-handed compliment) case: in 2007, Ben threw for 32 touchdowns and only 11 picks, for a stellar by any standard 104.1 QB rating.

When you add in the fact that he just won his second Super Bowl before the age of 27 by leading his team downfield at the end of the game in a Tom Brady-like manner (though not as stoically cool), it's safe to say that not only is he a great football player, but a great quarterback as well.

When Arizona made their unlikely comeback to take the lead in the fourth, I thought to myself that maybe I was right, that the Cards, underdogs four weeks in a row, really were a team of destiny.

But how many times have we seen a team make a furious rally to gain the lead in the fourth quarter of a football ballgame, only for the other team to respond on the ensuing drive and win in the end, anyway?

We saw it just two weeks ago, in the NFC Championship Game, with the Cardinals on the other end of the equation.

And one of the best game's of this past college football season was Texas-Texas Tech, with Texas gamely fighting back against Tech, getting the lead, then getting their hearts ripped out in the end.

I was prepared for either scenario to be the final story of the game. Obviously, it was the latter.

Now, the night belongs to history.

It was one to remember.

Warriors Best of NBA's Worst

Friday night on ESPN, you may have witnessed the Golden State Warriors, with a record of a mere 14 wins versus 32 losses, beat the Hornets, 28 and 14 and one of the best teams in the Western Conference, in New Orleans. This may have seemed like a freak occurrence, but in actuality, it was not.

The recent return of guard Monta Ellis to the G-State lineup has spurred the Warriors to action; while he hasn't played particularly well, his very presence on the court and in uniform seems to have galvanized the team. You can see it in their play. Hey, their best player is back.

If it hadn't been for Bronzino doing his best Black Cat impersonation against them at the Oracle last Saturday, they would have succeeded in shooting down arguably the best team in basketball. And now let's take a look at this squad: there's Monta, there's Crawford, there's Jack, there's Maggette, there's Auzubike. All of these guys can score, meaning they will only naturally thrive playing Nellieball (as anyone reasonable gifted offensive player would).

Right now, they are the best of the NBA's bad teams. And assuming they don't trade Jack (and they may or may not), going forward, they're going to win some basketball games. They'll beat up on most of the really terrible teams, and every now and then they'll sneak up and take out one of the contenders.

So, in what has been a very difficult season to be a Warriors fan, at least they have a solid second half of the season to look forward to, as their team pulls off some upsets and potentially plays spoiler in April. It's not like I think they could beat any really good team in a seven-game series, but the point is, on any given night, the Warriors are good enough that they could defeat anybody and it shouldn't be that shocking.

Better than being a Wizards fan.

A brief glimpse at the outlook of some other poor teams:

Sacramento (10-38): At least they have Jason Thompson, the rookie steal who for some reason reminds me of a taller Shareef Abdur-Rahim. This probably means that the Kings won't win many games during the Jason Thompson Era, but at least they made a good draft pick.

L.A. Clippers (10-37): Love Eric Gordon. Great shooter, and he can absolutely play the two because despite being 6-3, he's strong as hell and a really good athlete. Even better, he's competitive as hell - you can tell that he hates losing. He wears it on his face and you can see it in his body language.

Memphis (11-35): Well, I'm a strong advocate of O.J. Mayo, whom I think is a future franchise guy, but he seems to have marginalized Rudy Gay a bit (hasn't gotten any better this year). I like Marc Gasol, a beefier, more physical, less skilled version of his brother, Pau. And I think it's good that new head coach Lionel Hollins has made Mike Conley the starter at the point - I still think he's going to be very good, he's just one of those one's that has a longer learning curve. Not everyone is Derrick Rose.

Minnesota (16-29): I love Big Al, but he's not a center - Andrew Bynum dominated him on both ends Friday night when they were both in the game. It's not Al's fault; he's only 6-9. Bynum is 7-1. Problem is, Love isn't any taller than Jefferson, meaning they're going to be playing two power forwards and will always be undersized against teams with true centers. Love will rebound with anybody, but he's not guarding any five's.

And Roy for Foye is beginning to look like the underrated one-sided draft day trade of the past 15 years. Plus, Brewer is hurt and was looking like a bust last year.

At least they've finally found a good coach.

Oklahoma City (11-36): Durant is a STAR, but he doesn't make his team any better. I don't want to hear that he's only 20, or that he was only 19 as a rookie. LeBron and Carmelo came into the league under similar circumstances - teenaged saviors of horrifically bad teams - and both of them made their teams better immediately, and kept them that way. Durant is an awesome talent, but he needs to help his team win more games.

Other than that, I must say that I absolutely love Russell Westbrook. I don't even know who he reminds me of. The guy he's most compared to is Monta Ellis, but Westbrook is stronger, better defensively, and more of a true point. The guy's a future All-Star, he's made a believer out of me.

Washington (10-37): Put it this way: Even if Agent Zero were playing, they'd still suck. Totally screwed up.

And now I gotta thank God that it looks like Andrew Bynum is going to be okay.

Enjoy the Super Bowl. I got 'Zona. Feels like destiny.

You're An All-Star In My Book, Baby!

I like for all of my articles to have a good opening paragraph. This particular column will not feature one. A single man's take on the reserves for the 2009 NBA All-Star Game in Phoenix, announced Thursday on TNT:

Western Conference

F Dirk Nowitzki, Mavs - An easy selection: 26 points and 8 boards nightly, on 47/37/92 shooting percentages.

F Pau Gasol, Lakers - The NBA's latest, greatest super supporting player - he's like James Worthy, only 7-0 and Spanish with a scraggly beard. Oh, and somebody needs to send him some goggles and a knee pad, pronto. Consistent as all hell, Gasol gives you an 17 and 9 with 3 assists on 55 percent from the floor.

G Tony Parker, Spurs - Maybe a bit underrated at this point.

G Brandon Roy, Blazers - Joe Johnson West, with a surprisingly blistering first step.

C Shaquille O'Neal, Suns - He's found that fountain - he hasn't been this good since Miami won the whole damn 'chip. Who was expecting an 18 and 9 from Shaq this year? Even been logging about 34 minutes per for the past month and a half.

G Chauncey Billups, Nuggets - The man can run a basketball team. With Billups and Mike Bibby around, Sam Cassell's "steady, stabilizing veteran point guard" is in good hands.

F David West, Hornets - Now it gets tricky.

When it was announced that the "19-foot Assassin" would be making his second consecutive appearance (and he was the last Western player to be revealed), I immediately said "I know I can find some forward that's more deserving than David West." Turns out I could only come up with one forward - Big Al Jefferson, the league's most gifted young low post scorer, currently throwing up a 23-11 on a 16-28 Minny squadron.

As I wrote earlier this week, I don't have a problem with a couple of guys from bad teams playing in the All-Star Game. And that's especially the case if there's a spot that's clearly wide open.

I think this was one of those cases. The other six reserve picks were no-brainers; so I felt that the last one was a toss-up between Jefferson (who's probably a better player than West), and if not him than Deron Williams, if only because Williams is so underrated it's frustrating and he should have made it to the team the past two seasons but didn't. You have to admit, it's pretty ridiculous that Deron Williams has never been an All-Star before. Everyone agrees that he's the second best point guard in the world, but he still doesn't get nearly the recognition he deserves. It's confusing.

Now if you'll allow me a second...

I don't really know how to explain this, but the Shaq, Kobe, Phil reunion that is now officially going to be taking place next month is going to make for the most awkward and disappointing and slightly depressing moments of my career as a sports fan.

What am I to do if Kobe happens to feed Shaq on one of their patented "wrap-around-the-defender's-back-drop-off-and-jam" hookups?

Or if they relive "the lob...to Shaq!" which Bob Costas immortalized during Game 7 of the 2000 Western Finals against Portland?

Or if the three conspire to win the game at the end?

They clearly had unfinished business. This is an unfitting end. I am not looking forward to this.

Eastern Conference

F Paul Pierce, Celtics - Easy choice - 19 points, 6 boards, 4 assists, strong D - he's the second best small forward in the NBA. One of my favorite players in the league.

"C" Chris Bosh, Raptors - Because there was no East center that really and truly deserved this spot, I guess the coaches decided that they would just vote Bosh in as a center, even though he's not. I guess it was the best thing to do, though it does smell a little like a cop out.

Make no mistake; Bosh deserves to make the team. I think some players deserve to make the roster as long as they're healthy, and Bosh has reached that point, in my book.

David Lee is probably having the best year of all East centers - 16 points and 12 boards nightly, on 57 percent from the field. Ilgauskus has been hurt, and Lee has been simply been better than Okafor and Bogut. He's also on a 20-25 team, and the East squad already has three members on teams under .500 - which matters to me, but not the coaches, apparently.

But I like to go with a "feel" test in a situation like this - I don't like to give guys their first All-Star berth for their first arguable All-Star season, unless it's inherently obvious that they are All-Stars. Does David Lee feel like an All-Star to you? Me, neither.

G Joe Johnson, Hawks - Great player, definite All-Star...but blah.

Devin Harris, Nets - He's cooled off since a scorching start. He's been awarded an All-Star berth for the scorching start.

G Jameer Nelson, Magic - We'll get back to him.

F Danny Granger, Pacers - Love this guy. Keeps getting better. Definitely one of the five best small forwards in the league, and of all the guys on poor teams that garnered All-Star consideration, he was the most worthy.

F Rashard Lewis, Magic - We'll get to him right now.

First of all, Mo Williams has got to be an All-Star. Orlando has three All-Stars, Boston has two All-Stars, Cleveland has...one. Jameer Nelson does more for the Magic than Williams does for the Cavs? Other than LeBron taking a step forward and establishing himself as the best player since MJ, Mo Williams has been the ultimate reason Cleveland has gone from a one-man team that could beat anybody in a seven-game series because of that one man, to a true team that could potentially win 65 games.

I actually think Jameer should be in - he's been more important to Orlando's rise to prominence than Rashard, who, no disrespect meant at all, I would have left out in favor of Mo.

But that's just me.

A Few Things On My Mind

After more than three weeks off, I'm back (not that you ever noticed I was gone). A few rather unconnected (except no.'s 1 and 6) NBA topics that have caught hold of my brain, but I couldn't concoct single articles out of.

1. Kevin Durant's Meaningless Brilliance

The aspect of Durant's game that, while a focus point of praise for him since his days at Texas I still feel is somewhat underrated, is his unbelievable versatility. At UT, Durant got his points pretty much the same way he does now - skilled attacking from the perimeter, with a smooth jump shot. But aside from that, there has been very little carry over. In college, Durant jumped the opening tip and played near the basket on defense, blocked nearly two shots per game, and controlled the defensive glass (11 boards per; he also averaged nearly two steals). He didn't have much ballhandling responsibility, and didn't even bother passing the ball. I'm not saying he was selfish; he was just performing his role, and passing the ball was not one of his responsibilities.

That's why last year, while watching him in an early season tilt against the Clips in LA, when P.J. Carlisemo had him manning the two-spot, I was startled by his very legitimate guard skills: there was one play where he casually dribbled the ball upcourt and initiated the offense, and it didn't seem unnatural at all. And he proved to be a pretty decent passer, and of course he guarded other shooting guards - I'm not saying he did a good job, but all that matters is that he did it. So although as a whole I would say that his rookie year was underwhelming (he didn't have a game with double-digit rebounds once all of last season), it was still inherently amazing to me.

This year he's only gotten better - late last season he cut back on his three-point attempts, which has continued into this year, only he's shooting them much more efficiently. And P.J.'s ousting and his subsequent move to the froncourt has boosted his rebounding.

But here's the point: How many guys do you know that could go from playing what basically equated to some kind of virtuoso center in college (like Dirk on the 2004 Mavs) to a full-time two/three in the pros? How many? Seriously?

Of course, he doesn't make his team any better, so he's still kind of overrated. Yet highly impressive at the same time.

2. Mayo v. Love

You know who O.J. Mayo reminds me of? A miniature version of the neophyte Kobe Bryant. No. 1, he's fearless. No. 2, he's a ballhog. No. 3, he's a fierce competitor. And No. 4, he's obsessed with the game of basketball. Like Mamba, his entire life revolved around one day making it to this point, where he would make it to the NBA and be a superstar at the highest level of hoop. Like Young Kobe, Mayo has, ostensibly, a single-minded approach to the game right now - he's still in that phase where his main objective is becoming the best basketball player he can become, and that does come at the expense of his teammates. But he'll continue to get better and mature, just like Kobe did - and the kid's got superstar written all over him.

His quick jump out the gate has cast a negative shadow over Kevin Durant, the man for whom he was traded for on draft night. Pundits see Love as paling in comparison, and he has fallen under some scrutiny.

But while Love may never develop into a franchise player, like Mayo seems destined to become, we must also realize that this isn't the second coming of Roy for Foye. Love is an extremely gifted rebounder (8.3 per in only 22.7 minutes a night through Saturday), and once he improves the other parts of his game and starts playing more minutes and becomes more experienced, he will average an easy double-double for the next 15 years - I'm talking something like 15 and 13 - and he's going to help a good team win basketball games one day.

I'd take Kevin Love and his future any day of the week.

3. LeBron v. Kobe

Has LeBron James surpassed Kobe Bryant for title of Best Basketball Player in the World? In a word, yes, and I'm from Los Angeles. LeBron has added some Kobe to his game this year - he's diversified his offensive portfolio, implementing an improved mid-range jump shot and some pretty slick one-on-one moves to the greatest power game any wing player has ever had. And he's become an absolutely devastating man defender, having on several occasions already this season taken elite opposing small forwards completely out of the game offensively.

To wit:

12/5 v. Indiana: Granger 2/7 FG, 4 Pts
12/19 v. Denver: Melo 5/14 FG, 13 Pts
1/09 v. Boston: Pierce 4/15 FG, 11 Pts
1/13 v. Memphis: Gay 5/18 FG, 10 Pts

Put more simply, Kobe Bryant has never dominated basketball games on both ends of the court, for 48 minutes, on a consistent basis, like LeBron is doing this season.

Of course, this is no knock on Mamba. We all knew that LeBron would one day catch and then pass Kobe as the game's top player. It was inevitable. But Kobe is more dangerous than ever. He doesn't have the same bounce he once had, but he's crafty as hell and I think he's the second best shooter in the game, behind Dirk. What other NBA player is better shooting from all over the floor, with a hand in their face? Think about it for a second. No one. And as the great Mark Heisler once noted, there's nothing more important in basketball than the ability to shoot. When MJ came back for the first time, no longer an acrobat at 32, he was, as Heisler called it, a "Larry Bird-level shotmaker," which made him better than ever. Think of Kobe the same way.

Furthermore, the man is so lethal at the end of games that it's almost spooky, even scarier than it was before. We're lucky he always wanted to play basketball; if he weren't in the NBA, his famed "killer's instinct" might be manifesting itself in the form of actual murder. By far, he's still the guy you'd want at the end of a game.

4. Pau Gasol

I've been thinking about this one.

Doug Collins wondered during TNT's MLK day broadcast of the Lakers and Cavs, "Is there a more skilled big man than Pau Gasol?" Immediately, I considered Duncan, whom I think is better with his back to the basket because he's stronger and can always get the position he wants. Gasol can't; he's not strong enough or physical enough. But then again, you could make the argument that that has nothing to do with skill.

And so Gasol may be the game's most skilled big. He's an almost automatic mid-range and faceup jump shooter - even better than TD, believe it or not. And he's just got a ton of finesse moves: a spin move, hook shots, short turnarounds, fakes, you name it. He can finish around the hoop with either hand and is one hell of a passer. So, yeah. Pau Gasol. Might be the game's most skilled big.

5. Greg Oden

Not to infringe on Simmons' territory here, but I watched the 2007 NCAA Championship game with my dad, and we both marveled at Mr. Oden's body and athleticism, which reminded both of us of a young David Robinson. He shredded Florida's big man threesome of Joakim Noah, Al Horford, and Chris Richard (about as mighty a trio of college big men as you'll see on one team) to the tune of 25 points and 12 rebounds in a truly awesome performance (even though they lost). That night, I became convinced that Oden was the next great NBA center.

But then he hurt his knee, and not only has it created serious doubts that he'll ever stay healthy as a pro, but, at least so far, it seems to have robbed him of the explosiveness that once made him such a freak of nature (which microfracture surgery is known to do, of course). Dude's a monster - a legit 7-1 (I'm not sure if he's grown any since college, but it looks like he has), and he's bulked up since his one season at OSU: he was ripped as a Buckeye, now he's just big. So he's still a man amongst boys around the basket. But I've yet to see any flashes of a young D-Rob from him this season; he just doesn't have the same turbulence . Maybe it's gone for good, maybe he'll get some of it back, like Amare has. Suffice it to say I'm disappointed by the whole ordeal.

Furthermore, he can't stay on the court even when he's able - he's always in foul trouble. He and Andrew Bynum have a lot in common. I know he's only a rookie and I know he hadn't played organized ball in a year, but even with that being said, is it too much to expect a 15-9-2 from a guy who was compared to Bill Russell, no excuses and no questions asked?

He's averaging 14.9 points and 11.2 rebounds in games that he played more than 30 minutes, so we know he can play, but he's only played in nine such games out of 37. He's got to do better. 9 points and 7 rebounds a game is not cutting it.

I know the previous four paragraphs have been rather negative, but I sincerely hope, I sincerely want for this guy to pan out. I know it's unrealistic, but I want every NBA player to realize his potential, especially one that once looked the future centerpiece of five NBA championship teams.

6. How much should winning matter when you're determining All-Stars?

Inspired by this past Thursday's edition of the NBA on TNT (featuring an Emmy-worthy guest appearing from "The Glove" himself, Gary Payton). So, just how much should team success factor into this individual honor? Personally, I think to try and argue that record is irrelevant in the matter is absurd. It's okay to have a couple guys from poor teams fill out the All-Star rosters, but there should never be more than a couple, and they should never start.

For example, GP thinks Al Jefferson should start at forward for the West (over Tim Duncan, for the love of God). One huge problem here: even after winning nine of their last eleven, Big Al's T'Wolves are still only 15-27. If Jefferson were really the kind of guy that should be starting in the All-Star game, would his team be 15-27? Of course not. Remember KG in Minny, T-Mac in Orlando, and AI in Philly? All of those guys took below average teams and, by virtue of their skill and will, made them at least average. And in the years that those players were on teams that were well below .500 at the break (like McGrady in 2004), guess what? They didn't deserve to start. Period.

So sorry Big Al, sorry Danny Granger, sorry Chris Bosh (having something of a fluke year because he's a franchise player), and last but definitely not least, sorry GP. I never meant to hurt you.

Celtics Need Intimidating Nickname

I never knew the color green could be so intimidating.

These modern-day Boston Celtics scare the living hell out of me. Out of all the teams in the league, they're the most deadly serious. The Lakers are a young, affable, goofy bunch. In their own unique ways, Pau Gasol, Vladimir Radmonovic, Sasha Vujacic, Lamar Odom, Andrew Bynum and even Jordan Farmar are all stupid, but likably so. You can tell they're good, unthreatening guys.

The Spurs are totally business-like and professional, but emanate class, dignity, and humility. We know they're good guys, always have been (except that damn Bowen).

The Celtics, on the other hand, seem unapproachable. If I saw a person on the street that carried the same disposition one of these Celtics displays on the court, I'd look for someone else to give me directions. Boston is like the tough antagonist team in sports movies or TV sitcoms that you're supposed to root against, that appears on screen for the first time walking in slow motion. Basketball fans know that once the buzzer sounds, the C's are cooperative gentlemen. But we know that only because we follow the sport. The casual fan, flicking channels and happening upon one of their games, isn't going to be able to decipher that.

Starting with KG, and trickling on down the line, the Celts ooze intensity. And not just in their faces, but in their play. I have never seen a more aggressive defense. Sometimes, like during the Christmas Day tilt with the Lakers, it goes from simply stalwart to spectacular. It's like their defense starts attacking the other team's offense, Boston's swarming, smothering athleticism and contesting of every shot overwhelming. It happens when the C's are making a run, they always close it out with defensive rebounds, and if they're on the road you'll hear a lot of hooting and hollering from their bench.

The Celtics get a lot of flack for hooting and hollering, but that's more annoying than intimidating. Kendrick Perkins, an excellent role player, needs to shut the hell up. Seriously. Just because you won one championship averaging six points and six rebounds on a team with Garnett, Pierce, and Ray Allen doesn't mean you're Shaquille O'neal. And Kevin, I must admonish you also: There's no need for all that nonsense. I don't play favorites.

Of course, the Celtics, who lead the league in technical fouls, wouldn't behave so brashly if they weren't so damned good and couldn't back it up. I didn't truly believe that the Lakers would pull out that close Dec. 25 game until they did. After losing in Portland Tuesday night, the C's are now 8-1 in games decided by fewer than nine points. Nothing fazes them. They're the iciest team in basketball. We knew Pierce and Allen were assassins, but have you seen KG this year? Last spring he played through the most important games of his career and was shaky in the biggest moments (that's always been the biggest knock on him), but his team achieved the ultimate success, and thus, the weight of having never won a championship has been extricated from his shoulders forever. And it seems as though the relief of this pressure has turned Garnett into a clutch player. KG don't feel nothin' no more. He's not as cool about it as Allen and Pierce; you can tell it's new to him, and he seems almost pleased with himself. But the fact remains that Boston has three players on their roster who are ready and willing to take and make big shots, and that their entire team thrives in tense situations.

The Celtics have lost three of their last four, but always seem invulnerable.

You know who these Celtics remind me of: John Thompson's Patrick Ewing-led Georgetown Hoyas. The intense physical play, trash talking, and hellacious defense, along with the reality of their (nearly) all-black squad, evokes comparisons to Hoya Paranoia (with KG simultaneously embodying both Thompson and Ewing) - specifically the '85 squad that HBO immortalized (well, right up until the part about the loss to Villanova). You mean to tell me you don't recognize some of the parallels?

I need to think of a nickname for these Celtics that reflects how terrified I am of them.

In Peyton Manning We Trust

His name belongs with the greats.

Montana. Unitas. Brown. Rice. Butkus.

Manning.

Sounds right.

Don't you see what's happening with Peyton Manning this year, right now? He hasn't just had his most valuable season, he's begun the process of transcending mere first-ballot Hall-of-Fame status and becoming a sacrosanct legend.

Manning was already a lock for Canton before this season, with his gaudy and mind-numbing regular season numbers (we take them for granted, bored by their consistency, but they are the best ever), two MVP's, and Super Bowl trophy.

But his career still lacked that something extra, that thing that separates great players from hallowed ones.

It's one thing to put up a bunch of crazy stats and win a bunch of games and even win a championship when the conditions are relatively amicable. But Michael Jordan's finest hour was his last one, in his final season with the Bulls, aged 35, when he led Chicago to a 62-win season and a championship despite Scottie Pippen missing 38 games during the regular campaign and being practically debilitated by a back injury by the last game of the Finals. Muhammad Ali's greatest athletic triumph came at 32, when he was considered past his prime and even Howard Cosell said he had no chance versus the younger, seemingly indestructible George Foreman, but knocked Big George out, anyway.

Manning came into this season not fully recovered from two offseason surgeries on his left knee and missed all of training camp and the preseason. The Colts struggled out of the gate, limping to a 3-4 start as Peyton threw only 10 touchdowns versus 9 interceptions. Bill Simmons asked if Manning was "sleeping in the same bathtub of plaster Dan Marino used from 1995-1998?" I wrote an article (which never saw the light of day) about the mortality of athletes, and it centered around Manning, now 32 and looking like a shell of his former self.

So what happens? He spends the first half of the season playing himself into form, and now the Colts have won eight straight, clinching a seventh consecutive playoff berth Tuesday night with a victory over the Jaguars in Jacksonville. Manning's line: 29-of-34, 364 yards, three touchdowns. During the winning streak, he has thrown 16 touchdowns and only three picks, in the process establishing himself as the favorite for a record-tying third MVP award and giving his career the substance that turns the greatest of players into mythical beings.

This season the Colts became the first team in NFL history to win 11 or more games in six straight seasons. But this is the least imposing of all of those squadrons. Bob Sanders has been hurt. That would be okay, because Bob Sanders is always hurt, but on top of that Manning's longtime center, Jeff Saturday, has been in and out of the lineup. So has Joseph Addai, and he's averaged only 3.5 yards per carry when he's played, same as his backup, Dominic Rhodes. As a result, the Colts are ranked 31st in the league in rushing. And Marvin Harrison, once the Frick to Manning's Frack, is, definitively - and understandably, at 36 - no longer the man he once was.

True greatness is measured in times of adversity.

And there is no question that watching Manning - not a kid anymore, coming off the first serious injury of his career, with three of his team's top seven players missing a combined 16 games, with his famous partner-in-crime finally acting his age - this year has been a more meaningful experience than watching him at any point in the previous ten (well, other than when he won the Super Bowl).

The Colts are older and more vulnerable now, and so is Manning. He doesn't seem as invincible now as he did just as recently as last year. But in a way, he seems more dangerous than ever. Mortality and the decline of the team around him have wounded him, but wounded animals are extremely dangerous. Which means the Colts are, too, because Manning has never been more indispensable to them and completely embodies their team at this point.

And so now, when you consider all of his accomplishments, when you consider the fact that he has not once missed a professional football game (he started the very first game of his rookie year and has started every game since), when you consider that he was one of those rare no. 1 overall picks that absolutely, positively lived up to every expectation that comes with being that selection (and then some), and when you consider what he has done this season, you must realize that 40 years from now, they'll show grainy old footage of Manning stretching or warming up before a game and it won't need any sound.

This year, Manning has become that kind of player.

Dream Match turns into Mismatch

Wow. That was sad. It felt like a boxing funeral. It was a boxing funeral.

It was an annihlation you had to see to fully comprehend. If you didn't witness with your own two eyes, you would not be able to truly grasp it. Manny Pacquiao crushed Oscar de la Hoya Saturday night in Las Vegas. He destroyed him. He decimated him. He humiliated him. He hit him and he hit him and he hit him again. Then he hit him some more. It got worse over the eight rounds; by the end, Oscar wasn't even swinging back. He was just getting hit. Over and over and over again.

De la Hoya had become the proverbial champion fighting that one fight too many. Other than Pacquiao's trainer, Freddie Roach, no one saw it coming. To the rest of us, Oscar's boxing death unfolded in one night.

It went from shocking to kind of numbing to just plain hard to watch. It wasn't quite Larry Holmes beating up a defenseless Muhammad Ali in 1980, but it was something like it. Of course, I know that fight only through the internet; I wasn't born until 1988, so I truly only know Ali's legend via ESPN Classic, a movie starring Will Smith, and YouTube. It would be impossible for me to watch a grainy, 28 year old tape of him on a computer screen and feel the same pangs of sympathy for Ali that those who lived through his career did as he was absorbing blow after blow.

But I lived through Oscar's run. Roy Jones Jr., Bernard Hopkins, and Floyd Mayweather Jr. are the best boxers of this era, but Oscar was unequivocally the most famous. Plus, he was from (East) LA, my hometown. He's a good man. I was rooting for Oscar last night. Now, I know how those Ali followers felt. Saturday's tilt made me squeamish, and when it became obvious in the seventh and eighth rounds that referee Tony Weeks could step in at any time (and arguably should have, although I respect that he gave the aged warrior the benefit of the doubt), my heart started beating in anticipation. Oscar was getting pummeled, and the stoppage could come at any moment. Dueling emotions were at work here: on the one hand, I didn't want to see De la Hoya go out like that. On the other, he was being badly embarrassed, and even his puncher's chance seemed vanished - so why not just stop it?

Luckily, it was over before Oscar was seriously damaged - he came out of his corner before the start of the ninth, but only to embrace and congratulate Pacquaio, boxing's new big draw. It was a dazzling performance by the Pacman - with Mayweather in retirement (more likely an extended vacation, of course), Manny is - by far - the sport's best pound-for-pound fighter, as well as it's most exciting. But for Oscar, it was over - for this night and probably forever.

De la Hoya, a warrior just as much as a cash cow, was too prideful to utter the words "I quit," but knew he had no chance and offered nothing in the way of protest to his corner's decision to throw in the towel. His body language spoke defeat, and the forced, humbled acceptance of it. Pacquaio was clearly the much better man, obvious to everyone, including Oscar.

But that's sports, right? Pacquaio, 29, is in the prime of his career. Oscar is 35, not even competitive on this night. It goes like that. LaDainian Tomlinson, once as breathtakingly good as any tailback to ever play, is averaging 3.7 yards per carry this season. Through 13 games, he has had two 100-yard outings and is on pace for the poorest rushing totals (yards and touchdowns) of his career. His toe may still be bothering him, but the real problem is that he's 29 now - running backs start going downhill at 28. Adrian Peterson, aged 23, is the guy now.

Allen Iverson, now 33, the NBA's third all-time leader in career scoring average, is producing only 18 a game this year. For this year, the Pistons would be better off with Derrick Rose, a rookie.

Greg Maddux retired this week. Nobody lasts forever.

Though he entered the bout about a pound-and-half lighter than De la Hoya, Oscar is naturally about 25 pounds heavier - he began his pro career at 130 lbs, Pacquiao at 106. But Pacquiao was simply too fast, too quick, too maneuverable. Had Oscar been 29, it would have been more of a fair fight. Maybe he could have caught Pacman, maybe he could have avoided him. Instead, he just got beat up. Badly. Hit. Repeatedly.

Oscar's legacy? Obvious Hall-of-Famer, 10-time world champion in six different weight classes, Olympic gold medalist in Barcelona in 1992. No fighter ever generated more money. Totally classy. Never ducked anybody - he fought Tito, he fought Shane (twice), he fought Hopkins, he fought Floyd, he fought Pacman. But what endures may be that he lost all six of those matches (albeit a couple of them controversially), and the argument can be made that he never beat a truly great fighter at the peak of their powers (Julio Cesar Chavez, whom he beat twice, and Pernell Whitaker, had both probably advanced their apex's).

The final Compubox number's from the night? 224 of 585 total landed for Manny, as opposed to 83 of 402 for Oscar. 195 of 33 power punches met their mark for Pacquiao, only 51 of 164 De la Hoya, 59 percent to 31 percent. But if you didn't see it, you still don't get it.

Oscar did. He was ulitmately non-committal, but also reasonable, about his boxing future in his post-fight interview with Larry Merchant. While he stopped just short of saying "I'm finished," his words spoke of a man that knew he was. He told Roach, his former trainer turned nemesis who in the events leading up to the match said that after watching Oscar's victory over Steve Forbes in May, he realized De la Hoya no longer had his fastball after and predicted exactly the round this one would end, after the fight, "You were right, Freddie. I don't have it anymore."

He doesn't.

As for me? I just wish I could unsee what I saw.

Titans Being Treated Like No Big Deal

Why no love for the Titans of Tennessee?

They have the league's second best head coach. They have the league's best rushing attack. They have league's finest defense.

They have not lost a game.

And yet, no one seems to be seriously considering the increasing possibility that they may go 16-0. Actually, there is a reason for this. Actually, there are two reasons for this:

1) Nobody looks at them as the type of team that could go an entire regular season without losing, and

2) Nobody cares.

The Patriots were, what, 2-0 when people started wondering if they could win them all? 3-0?

But of course, that was different. The Patriots had the championship pedigree, and the previous year had lost the AFC Championship game late in the fourth quarter, after blowing a 21-3 first half lead.

Now they had added Randy Moss, Wes Welker, Donte Stallworth, and Adelius Thomas to the mix, giving them undoubtedly the most loaded team of the salary cap era. This was a team with top-notch professionals on both sides of the ball, Pro Bowl and All-Pro-caliber talent at every level of the defense, and the highest-scoring, most jawdropping offense of all-time. They were impeccably well-coached, led by the legendary Bill Belichick and (as always) the best group of assistants you'll find in any sport, plus they were pissed off, and thus were just crushing people, with no restraint. They may have lost the Super Bowl, but seriously, folks, they were the best NFL team ever.

The Titans, on the other hand, are probably the least talented 10-0 team in the history of the league. Their quarterback is 35, and although he did signal-call the Giants to the Super Bowl in 2000, he's never really been that good. They do not have good receivers. They have a stellar two-man running game - rookie STUD Chris Johnson and touchdown machine Lendale White - but neither one them are really brand-namers.

Their defense features the dominant defensive tackle Albert Haynesworth and the past-his-prime Jevon Kearse, but other than those two and maybe Keith Bulloch, they are a composition of nobodies.

Which means their greatest strength, truth be told, is their coach, Jeff Fisher, who I like to call the game's best "manufacturer." You wouldn't look at last year's Tennessee roster and think 10-6, nor would you look at the 2006 roster and think 8-8, anymore than you would look the current personnel and think 10-0 after Week 11.

But Fisher has come to excel at "manufacturing" wins, at producing enough points each week to earn a victory more often than a loss. On a consistent, Sunday-to-Sunday basis, nobody does more coaching, or gets more out of his teams, than Jeff Fisher.

The Titans are a smart, efficient, whole-greater-than-the-sum-of-their-parts club that palys exceptionally hard and literally maxes out it's potential. But they do not inspire awe, or fear, like the '07 Patriots did, either on paper or on the field.

The bottom line, though, is that they have won every game that they have played this year, which as we all know is all that matters. They're more than half-way to 16-0, a mark that we know from very recent history is attainable.

Which brings us to our second problem:

We've already seen the unbeaten thing before. In fact, we've just seen it.

Maybe it's just me, but the general mood prevailing throughout the NFL atmosphere is that in the wake of last season's Patriots, people (fans and media) aren't as interested in witnessing a team finish 16-0, and will not make a big deal out of it if it happens. It would be extremely impressive and praiseworthy, a supreme accomplishment, and more shocking than when the Patriots did it.

But I doubt if it would get the same attention, or the same reaction. The thing that made New England's quest so intriguing was that the closer they got it felt like history in the making, and there's nothing we enjoy more than the opportunity to witness something take place that has never happened before. And even though the Dolphins ended their regular season 14-0 (and of course they would go on to finish 17-0) in 1972, it took place so long ago that it almost feels like it belongs to an entirely different time-frame; no one under the age of 30 remembers it.

So when the Patriots were chasing it, the entire journey was novel. It no longer is.

Anyways, regardless of all this, the fact remains that all we have seen the Titans do thus far this season is win. Why couldn't they run the table? They absolutely could. We may not believe, or care, but if they do, we will have no choice but to respect.

A Completely Random and Inexplicable Rick Fox Tribute

The term "role player" is used so often in NBA discussions that it has become trite. Being a Lakers fan, I know the phrase very well: if you were watching basketball at the beginning of this century, you couldn't help but know that the Phil Jackson-led Lakers featured two superstars...and a bunch of role players. It was Shaq and Kobe...and a bunch of role players. That was the way the supporting cast was identified. And with respect to Ron Harper, Brian Shaw, and Devean George (and Mike Penberthy, if you're nasty), the three chief representatives for this group were "Big Shot" Robert Horry, Derek Fisher, and Rick Fox.

Horry's clutch shooting exploits are extremely well-documented, and Fisher hit the famous "0.4" shot against the Spurs in the 2004 playoffs, made the emotional, right-out-of-a-movie arrival to the playoff game against the Warriors two years with Utah after tending to his ailing daughter the same day, and is respected for his cool head, experience, and on-court leadership.

But Foxy? He was once married to Vanessa L. Williams, he's a renowned actor (okay, just actor) who had a small role in "He Got Game," he got in a fight during a preseason game with Doug Christie, and he was "pretty" (he once grew his curly hair long and wore it in a pony tail).

But he never got enough recognition as a player, even for one who's job was to merely fulfill a role. This always bothered me, because Foxy was the quintessential role player, and he helped my favorite team win three championships. I love the guy.

Defensively, Foxy was one of the better small forwards in the league, as evidenced by the way he shut down Peja Stojakovic in the 2001 Western Conference Semifinals. Offensively, he was a good outside shooter and passer, someone who Phil Jackson praised in "The Last Season" for his ability to make the entry pass to Shaq, a smart player who never made a boneheaded play and always played within himself. In Game 7 of the 2002 Western Conference Finals against the Kings, he had 13 points, 14 rebounds, and 7 assists. With a potential three-peat hanging in the balance, he stood taller than ever, rising to the occasion along with Diesel, Mamba, Big Shot, and Fish in helping us get back to the Finals.

Foxy won three championships, and every title team has a Rick Fox on it, or someone like him. Two of the last three featured James Posey, defensive ace, clutch three-point shooter, King of All the Little Things. The current player that reminds me most of Foxy is Shane Battier. The Lakers mollywhopped the Rockets at the Staples Center Sunday night, with Battier relegated to the sidelines with an ankle injury that will keep him out of action for at least another month. If these Rockets are to ever win a championship, you can be sure that Battier will have something to do with it, wholeheartedly throwing himself into the team concept, selflessly assuming the Fox role.

Eight years ago, in explaining that the defending champion Lakers were still the team to beat, SLAM Magazine wrote in their NBA preview "I don't care if Shaq and Kobe are surrounded by 10 Rick Fox clones." This was meant as a diss, but to me it reflected Fox's status as the prototype role player, which as far as I am concerned isn't a bad thing.

Aside from an acting gig on the CW network's "The Game" series, Foxy is now serving as an analyst for Lakers home game coverage on Fox Sports Net. He is pretty good. But he was also a good basketball player. I don't know why I felt compelled to tell you all this, but I have for a while now, and I'm glad I did.

This Is Going To Be Fun

Flashback to 2001.

The Lakers were the defending NBA champions, and they were opening up their 2001-02 campaign at home against the Trailblazers. After receiving their championship rings in a pregame ceremony, Los Angeles beat Porland with relative ease, recording a "Ho-hum, we went 15-and-1 in the postseason last year and are just much, much, much better than everyone else" 98-87 win. For that night (and really the first month or so of the season, as they would start 16-1), the Lakers looked and felt unbeatable, a championship seemed forgone, and being a fan of the team never felt more relaxing, peaceful, or fun.

Seven years later, the Lakers once again opened their season against Oregon's finest. They didn't collect any rings this time; that honor went to the Celtics, who began their season with a 90-85 victory over the Cavaliers in Boston. Still, the Lakers looked like the best team in the league. They jumped out to a 19-8 lead and were up by as many as 22 before a closing Blazer flurry cut the margin to 15 at the break. The likable Portland upstarts, everyone's favorite young team, were listless, no doubt, but Los Angeles looked flawless. Their defense was brilliant, a step ahead of Portland in holding them to 31 percent shooting over the first two quarters, and two steps ahead of what we saw from them on that end last year.

They displayed an absolutely endless stream of talent: As Kenny Smith and Charles Barkley pointed out during TNT's halftime show, the Lakers have every position covered - twice. There's Fisher and Farmar, and Radmanovic and Ariza, with Odom, Gasol, and Bynum rotating at the big spots. Then there's Sasha and some guy named Mamba, who made a mockery out of the difficulty basketball at the highest level is supposed to present.

I have never seen anyone play the game of basketball so well, and yet so effortlessly as Kobe Bryant did last night. In the first 24 minutes of action, he seemed to be literally going through the motions, scoring only six points on 3-of-8 shooting. But he had an impact over the flow of the action - eight rebounds, five assists - and he was getting to any spot on the floor that he wanted and making it look easier than ever, while holding Brandon Roy to two points on 0-of-6 from the field.

Then, after a little extra-curricular bump from Joel Pryzbilla early in the third, Kobe, coincidentally or not, bumped his effort level up from 50 percent to maybe about 75, scoring thirteen points in the final nine minutes of the period. He would finish with 23 in all, on 9-of-17, in a 96-76 L.A. win. And I have to say that in all of the years I've been watching him play, I don't know if the man has ever seemed more arrogant for a single game than he did last night: it was just too easy, and he knew it. Thanks to this stacked Lakers roster and his own startling talent, Bryant now has the lightest workload of any superstar, and so on many nights this season the challenge for him may not be the game itself, but how embarrassingly simple he can make it appear to be as he further illuminates his ever-increasing accomplishments in athletic brilliance. I know, I know, I'm in love with the guy; I have a man-crush on him and I want to marry him. Whatever. On some nights, nights like the last one, Kobe Bryant is so good, his command and mastery of the concepts of basketball so thorough, his natural ability so pronounced (and even more impressive now that he's 30, with all that mileage), he deserves such praise.

Anyways, I feel the same way as a Lakers fan that Kobe came off last night: arrogant, cocky, privileged. I don't think I have ever seen a team as talented as these Lakers: their first ten players range from "solid" to "transcendent," with supremely talented bench players that offer contrasting qualities to the starters, everyone bringing something different to the table. Every style appears to be covered, an offense fast and quick-hitting and efficient and Kobe. Hell, even the defense looked great for once.

For at least one night, it was perfect in Lakerdom, and it didn't look like anything could possibly go wrong. Reminded me of 2001.

For Love...For Honor...For Kobe

In Bill Simmons' first ever fantasy basketball preview column, unleashed Friday, he ranks Kobe Bryant only number six on his list of most eligible fantasy baller's (Bryant is generally considered a top three pick) - and goes on to explain why it might not be the greatest idea to build your imaginary team around Mamba this year. He goes through a lot of potential hazards: Kobe's considerable milage; his decrease in athletic explosiveness and the lack of a fallback option to combat it, a la MJ with the latter-day power post game/turnaround fallaway; potential on-court chemistry issues (not enough shots to go around, clogged middle); his pinkie. I'm not even going to get into all of those things - I'll save it for another day, another piece. This post is going to be long enough.

Simmons wrote something six months ago that stuck in my craw a little ever since - now, he's mentioned it again, and for my own sanity, my own piece of mind, I must delve deeper into it, and disprove it to the public.

In recent times I have become almost neutral regarding Kobe Bryant the Man. But that feeling of indifference does not extend to my fervent support and defense of Kobe Bryant the Basketball Player. As a diehard Lakers fan, I feel the same way about 24 that Simmons feels about Larry Bird or Michael Wilbon feels about Michael Jordan. So when the Sports Guy attacked Kobe's reputation for utter individual dominance last June by typing that he struggled against bigger defenders, it actually hurt my feelings. Simmons said that these types of defensive players served as Kobe's "kryptonite" flaw - nonsense, as far as I was concerned. Maybe he had his troubles against historically great team defenses, but to state that any type of single defender could have an advantage over him in a strictly player-to-player match-up...I was affected by that.

Still, I just let it simmer - until 'ol Simmy referenced it again in the fantasy hoops column - and well, I've got to get it off my chest. What can I say? It bothers me.

-

In the initial column, posted between games five and six of last year's NBA Finals, Simmons wrote:

"Boy, Kobe sure seems to have trouble scoring on these Shane Battier/Paul Pierce types, doesn't he? If someone's a little bigger than him, stays between him and the basket and has the reach to contest his jumper, and if that person is flanked by smart defenders who remain aware of what Kobe is doing at all times, it sure seems Kobe has trouble getting the shots he likes. Not to belabor the point because it's a moot discussion at this point, but MJ didn't have a "kryptonite" flaw. He just didn't. Of everyone from the '90s, John Starks probably defended him the best ... and it's not like Starks was shutting him down or anything. He just made MJ work a little harder for the points he was getting anyway. The point is, Jordan did whatever he wanted during a much more physical era, and when he faced great defensive teams -- like the '89 and '90 Pistons or the '93 Knicks -- nobody ever shackled him or knocked him into a scoring funk. Kobe? He looks a little lost offensively against the Celtics. It's true. Same for the 2004 Finals against Tayshaun Prince, another lanky defensive player with a good reach. Just remember to mention this on his NBA tombstone some day."

The Battier reference likely stemmed from an ABC televised game in mid-March between the Lakers and Rockets in Houston, when Battier held Bryant to 24 points on 11-of-33 shooting in a 104-92 Rockets win. And obviously, Pierce did an excellent job on Bryant at times in the championship series last June.

Then, Friday, Simmons wrote of the Lakers that "their best lineup remains Fisher and Vujacic at the guards, Kobe at the 3, and Gasol with Odom or Bynum up front ... which allows opponents to defend Kobe with bigger players and opens the door for more spotty offensive efforts from Kobe like what we witnessed in the 2008 Finals."

And I could no longer stop myself from addressing this maddening assertion.

When I did my research for my statistical analysis, I tried to study game logs (basketball-reference.com - the best there is, the best there was, and the best there ever will be) in which Bryant played against teams with great perimeter defenders, or so-called "stoppers," who 1) are listed at at least 6-7 (an inch taller than Kobe is listed at) and 2) I can specifically remember being assigned to guard him on a regular basis.

These are Kobe's career numbers (regular season only) versus the five players whom I felt met my qualifications:

v. Battier: 25 gms, 249-585 FGM-A, 23.5 FGAPG, 42.5 FG%, 29.2 PPG, 3 40-pt gms, 3 50-pt gms

v. Prince: 9 gms, 69-158 FGM-A, 17.6 FGAPG, 43.7 FG%, 25.4 PPG, 1 40-pt gm

v. Andrei Kirilenko: 20 gms, 203-423 FGM-A, 21.2 FGAPG, 48.0 FG%, 33.5 PPG, 3 40-pt gms, 1 50-pt gm

v. Josh Howard: 17 gms, 176-379 FGM-A, 22.3 FGAPG, 46.2 FG%, 33.7 PPG, 3 40-pt gms, 1 50-pt gm, 1 60-pt gm

v. Ron Artest (although Artest is listed at 6-7, he and Kobe appear to be the same height - you know, Kobe used to be listed at 6-7, when he had his afro - whatever, this isn't an exact science, I included him anyway): 20 gms, 162-350 FGM-A, 17.5 FGAPG, 46.3 FG%, 27.8 PPG, 1 40-pt gm

Total: 91 gms, 859-1895 FGM-A, 20.8 FGAPG, 45.3 FG%, 29.3 PPG, 11 40-pt gms, 5 50-pt gms, 1 60-pt gm

Career numbers: 866 gms, 7456-16450 FGM-A, 19.0 FGAPG, 45.3 FG%, 25.0 PPG, 92 40-pt gms, 23 50-pt gms, 4 60-pt gms

What do these numbers show us?

Well, for one, obviously, Battier does a better job on Kobe than any of our variables (I'm a scientist now). After offering little resistance to Kobe his first four seasons in the league (Bryant averaged 25.5 points on 45.7% shooting against Battier in their fourteen matchups from 2002-2005 - including the game in Shane's rookie year where Kobe scored 56 points in three quarters and then sat out the fourth), Battier has become an extremely legitimate Mamba foil: since the 2006 campaign, Battier has held Bryant to 39.9% shooting in eleven contests - 33.1 points on 28.6 shots per game. Only once in those eight games has Bryant shot above 50%.

Then again, Bryant has had games of 53, 53, and 45 against Battier since Battier joined Houston in 2006-07 - albeit on a combined 114 shots and a pedestrian 43.0% shooting.

Overall, it would seem that Battier has taken the mantle from Bruce Bowen as the John Starks to Kobe's MJ - to paraphrase Simmons, he guards him better than anyone else, but it's not like he's shutting him down or anything; he's just making him work harder for the points he's getting regardless.

Against Prince, Bryant doesn't take many shots. On top of that one 40-points game, he has had two 39-point efforts. Other than that, there's nothing to it. Nothing sticks out.

What seems more accurate than Simmons' claim is the notion that Bryant simply ran into two all-time great defenses in those two championship series, and more importantly, two units that predicated all of their potential success on their ability to stop him and him only, and game planned accordingly. And I don't think he was prepared either time. He had thoroughly dominated the postseason last year up until the series with Boston, so even though the Celtics defense had thwarted him in their two regular season matchups, I'm sure he wasn't expecting anything resembling that kind of struggle.

He had also been the dominant player in the 2004 playoffs (although not as brilliant as last year), and he certainly wasn't ready for that Pistons ambush (not to mention the fact that he made things harder on himself by playing so selfishly and effectively playing right into their hands).

Both times, it appeared as though he had walked blindly into a blizzard snowstorm, without the necessary survival skills.

And I know we've been conditioned to think that MJ was literally infallible, but if anybody really thinks MJ just walked all over those great Pistons and Knicks defenses like he did everyone else - well, you need to hit up basketball-reference.com, check out some box scores.

Anyways, as far as Simmons' idea that bigger defenders are Kobe's Achilles heel - I would conclude that that appears to be a matter of feeling and seeming, rather than actual being.

T-Mac's Sadly Unfolding Story Arc

This morning on NBA TV it scrolled across the ticker, the message that Houston Rockets swingman Tracy McGrady may miss the team's season opener on October 29 versus the Grizzlies due to "health issues." On Houston's media day last month, Mac announced that he hadn't fully healed from off-season surgery on his left knee, and would need an operation after the upcoming campaign to repair an arthritic left shoulder. Yes, you read that correctly: Tracy McGrady already has an injury so serious it will need a procedure at the conclusion of the season...and the season hasn't even started yet. That sounds insane, but it isn't really surprising: With Chris Webber now making his living under the employment of Ted Turner, Mac is the NBA's new resident MCS: Most Cursed Superstar.

McGrady has to be the only player in NBA history that peaked at the age of 23. I never thought he was as good as Kobe Bryant (not as good a defender, not as clutch), but he was damn close: The 6-foot-8, long-limbed frame, combined with the amalgamation of scoring, ballhandling, and playmaking capabilities, made Tracy the offensive fusion of an evolutionary George Gervin and Scottie Pippen. He averaged a 27, 8, and 5 at 21 (his first and breakout year with the Magic), a 26, 8, and 5 at 22, and an absurd 32, 7, and 6 at the aforementioned 23. In those latter two years, he was named All-NBA first team. By consensus, he was one of the two best all-around players in the game, and so his potential, though rarely spoken of, seemed obviously limitless.

But as Stephen A. might say...

Howeva...

(And if I were the Sports Guy, this would be the point that I made a reference to the inevitable "downward spiral" segment teaser of any VH1 "Behind the Music" episode.)

It all started going suddenly downhill from there. The Magic won a mere 21 games in 2004, as Mac missed 15 contests and shot the lowest percentage of his career - this was also the year that back spasms began establishing themselves as his personal Achilles heel. He would be traded to Houston that summer, and while he had a terrific year overall in his first year with the Rockets, he shot only 43 percent and the Rockets lost in the first round to the Mavericks.

Meanwhile, McGrady's once prescribed co-savior of the Magic, the conveniently redemptive Grant Hill, represented Orlando as a starter in the All-Star Game after playing in only 47 of a possible 328 games in the previous four seasons, and No. 1 pick Dwight Howard drew comparisons to a young Moses Malone. The Rockets missed the playoffs entirely the following year, and then, in 2007, Tracy was the victim of another first-round series exit, this time tasting defeat in a heartbreaking Game 7 loss to the Jazz.

Last year, the Rockets won 22 consecutive games during the regular season (second most all-time), but lost Yao for the year in February, and once again, went one-and-done in the postseason, falling to Utah for the second straight year.

Which means that, at 29, and entering his 12th season, Tracy Mcrady has a career playoff series mark of 0-7, and there is no doubt that it is a bearing on the man's soul. McGrady is partially to blame for his embarrassing record: While the Magic were certainly overmatched in terms of personnel against Detroit in the 2003 postseason, he had his team up 3-1 and couldn't muster one more victory (naturally, this was the year the NBA changed it's first-round format from best-of-five to best-of-seven.) And he had a Game 7 at home in '07 against Utah but couldn't pull it out (the 29 points and 13 assists were heroic, but the key is to win the game).

But most of Tracy McGrady's misfortune seems to stem from ill-fate. How many times would he and a healthy Hill have made the Finals together in Orlando? He was forced to go at it alone. Why did a troublesome back sabotage his 20's and put a ceiling on his prime? We'll never know how good he could have been. Why did Yao have to suffer a stress fracture last year, on what could have been Houston's best team since Hakeem's '95 repeat squad? All those wins in a row meant nothing against the Jazz, not with Mac outmanned and reliving his soloist days with the Magic.

And why is it that, now that the Rockets have acquired Ron Artest and assured that McGrady will be a part of the most talented team of his life...he's already injured? The punt never, ever takes a T-Mac bounce.

You take a look at this Houston roster and think that they have a chance to be earth-shatteringly good. And earth-shatteringly good should at least get you past the first round. But if you're a McGrady fan, how realistically optimistic can you be? Things never seem to go in his favor.

Regardless, we root for him. We like him. And thus, may God bless his knee, back, and shoulder, may Yao remain on the court for the duration (or at least be healthy come spring), and may Ron Ron not go Ron Ron. For Tracy's sake.

P.S. And may they not beat my Lakers, under any circumstances.