Bleacher Report - Articles by nathan spicer

Seriously? That Guy? Fans Shouldn't Vote for All-Star Teams

nathan spicer — Mon, 07 Jul 2008 03:42:51 -0400

I understand the purpose behind putting the All-Star team rosters in the hands of the fans by allowing, and emphasizing, their right to vote.

The practice generates interest, making the casual baseball consumers more likely to watch the game and recognize the importance of the experience. They had a hand in the teams’ makeup, and therefore they like to see the final product.

Having the most famous players—the ones for whom the fans voted—starting only increases the popularity of the event, and it makes it seem, from some fans’ perspectives, more worthwhile and entertaining.

But this comes at a cost, mainly that the players who actually deserve to be starters get snubbed. Big-time.

Looking at the AL All-Star team is basically like looking at a conglomeration of the most ubiquitous names in television. If a player gets on TV a lot, mainly ESPN or FOX Sports, chances are he’ll find himself standing on the first-base line with his hat over his heart, staring at his dugout where all the reserves—whose play was superior to them in the first half of the year, and by rights, deserved more votes—sit with disappointed faces.

I don’t fault the elected starters for that; they have no control over the fans' decisions. But they could opt-out of the event or give their spot to someone more deserving. There is precedent (e.g. Vince Carter gave his spot to Michael Jordan in the ‘03 NBA All-Star Game).

But to take away the position from the most deserving candidates undervalues the All-Star Game. It becomes a popularity contest, plain and simple. Many people have written that and voiced that, but it bears repeating until the leagues figure it out.

Selig has attempted to increase the value of the event by making home-field advantage in the World Series dependent on which league wins the All-Star Game.

But that makes the event even more ludicrous.

Now you have the most popular players—not the best—deciding, through what was ostensibly a “fun” competition (remember John Kruk vs. Larry Johnson and the backwards helmet/switch-hit?), who gets a huge advantage when the most important seven games come around.

Don’t you think all the players and coaches in the league would rather have their best players competing for that right? And not allow the whims of so many millions of casual fans, who primarily vote based on name recognition—or even skin tone, explaining the election of Derek Jeter over reserve Michael Young—to affect such a vital aspect of the game.

If Selig truly wishes to inject (ooh, bad choice of words for baseball) importance into this event, he should give baseball writers the votes. Of all the groups associated with the sport, they are the most intelligent, and they possess the most knowledge outside of players and coaches (who, because of personal vendettas and rivalries, would probably overlook some players in favor of others).

They spend all day and all night watching, contemplating, considering, reconsidering, crystallizing ideas, and writing about baseball. The game is their passion, their life, and they study every miniscule detail. That’s why they decide who gets inducted into the Hall of Fame—the most significant and hallowed establishment in sports.

Shouldn’t they be able to put together a meaningful All-Star roster?

Not Yankee, Red Sock, Yankee, Red Sock, Yankee, Red Sock…another Red Sock.

The same players trot out to the field year after year, when the more deserving players sit and watch from the bench, or even worse, at home.

If writers got the vote, not only would the true All-Stars play, but the game would be more exciting as well. I remember watching Marshall Faulk rapidly increase his stock in the Pro Bowl when he was on the Colts. Previously, I had never heard of him, but he became my favorite player in that one game.

That is the type of scenario I wish the MLB would try to facilitate—an event comprised of the greatest players of the first-half of the year, regardless of popularity, competing against each other in front of millions.

Many of the most popular players would likely make the team, anyway, because the majority became popular due to their talent and success. But they wouldn’t start. And people like Jason Varitek (hitting a measly .218) would rightly watch from their couches.

Back to L.A., Back to Themselves

nathan spicer — Mon, 09 Jun 2008 05:58:29 -0400

Contrary to popular opinion, game two was not an atrocious outcome for the Lakers. The individual performances were dismal, but the outcome could result in a boon for the Lakers’ psyche.

They played softly and tentatively, apparently questioning their belief in themselves. Some may find it difficult to blame them when considering the massive free-throw disparity—38-10 Celtics. Seemingly every call went Boston’s way, which allowed the crowd to maintain its enthusiasm and viciousness and depleted those same traits from everyone in L.A.

That is, until they sparked a momentous comeback from 24 down in the fourth that managed to put them within a mere two points. A mere two points from defeating Boston in Boston, from forcing Boston into desperation in L.A., from showing the city “Beat L.A.” means nothing anymore.

But they didn’t. And that failure could weigh heavily on the players’ minds. However, that depends on how each individual handles it.

For Kobe Bryant, being down two games will not alter his unerring determination. But for the rest of his supporting cast, many of whom have never reached the finals and have barely been in the playoffs, these two defeats could present a kind of post-traumatic stress disorder.

The bench will value their time in sunny L.A. even more and develop a deep-seeded fear of the infinitely overcast Boston’s new garden.

That could mean one of two things: the Lakers’ bench recognizes how vital the next games are, and prepares thoroughly for them. They could then play to their highest potential in front of a hometown that gives them nothing but support.

Or the Lakers could also recognize the significance of the next games and fold under the pressure. The hometown’s expectations could be more of a hindrance than a boon. Desperate to keep their status in L.A.’s huge spotlight, they will push themselves too hard and try to answer too many questions on their own. They could step away from the team play that has gotten them this far.

That is what they hinge themselves upon, the team. Bryant is spectacular, and normally has the potential to take out a pen and write his name on the floor because it belongs only to him. But Boston’s suffocating defense has limited him to only 20 of 49 shooting in the first two games.

He is able to get shots off—23 in game two, nearly doubling the output of the closest teammate, Gasol and Radmanovic with 12—but when his shots don’t fall, he needs to give in. His teammates, the major impetus of his turn-around both in on and off-the-court behavior, need to become those homing beacons they have been throughout the post season.

Yet those signs of dependence that Bryant has relied upon have looked weary and wary.

That can change. L.A. will embolden them. Gasol played well in game two but didn’t appear too often, only taking 12 shots (though he hit eight of them). If he and Odom, who only shot 5-11, can up their attempts by three or four, and have Kobe reduce his, their offense will go back to its more balanced approach—one the Celtics will have a more difficult time defending.

When you know exactly where the ball is going, naturally stopping becomes easier. Boston knows the ball is headed directly for Kobe, especially when L.A. needs points quickly, so they prep for that. Double teams are frequent, but even the single defenders are causing problems.

If Kobe drops the win-without-Shaq attitude and in favor, adopts the win-with-my-teammates attitude, he will find more opportunities to score, as Gasol or Odom can’t be left alone in favor of stopping Kobe (if Kobe is spreading the ball).

Plus, his teammates’ confidence will only increase when the star player displays his belief in them, and their play will improve as a result. Because they’re so much better in L.A., the Lakers’ bench doesn’t need to improve drastically, just shed the aversion to the abundance of green.

Pretty soon they’ll see nothing but yellow, and if Kobe is just another yellow spot and not the entire Sun, they will feel comforted and relaxed, able to handle the pressure from their hometown and the rest of us. They just need to think of how close they were to winning the last game and how much easier it will be back at home.

After Michael Jordan: Celebrating the NBA's New Talent

nathan spicer — Mon, 19 May 2008 00:03:18 -0400

Michael Jordan’s retirement, the last one at least, came during the period when I had lost interest in the NBA. The comeback to play for the Wizards was, in my mind, more of a stunt than a true return to the game.

He didn’t come back as the old MJ; he came back bulky and slow, with a steady dose of fadeaway jumpers. Michael Jordan came back. But the …from North Carolina—at Guard—6’6”—Michael Jordan...never played again.

That disappointed me for a while. I still had a passing interest in the league with the likes of Allen Iverson and the Kobe-Shaq dominance. But it was only passing. I didn’t schedule my events around the playoff games; I didn’t watch SportsCenter hoping for another unbelievable display of NBA athleticism to cross the screen. My finger stayed on the pulse of the league, but the pulse was weak. I kept waiting for the next heart of the league, the next MJ, to appear.

I searched.

And searched.

But I finally gave up. I realized there will never be another MJ. And that’s acceptable, because in this case, one person is not better than a team. I don’t see Dwight Howard’s unbelievable displays of thunderous grace for a man his size and immediately remember MJ’s free-throw line take-off.

Those two dunks, and humans, are nothing alike. They are their own entities and in their own rights should be admired.

I recognize now the emergence of new talent. Not entrance, but emergence: their abilities have finally reached a level where we cannot help but take notice. Chris Paul’s ridiculous ability to take over the flow of a game, Amare Stoudemire’s explosive cuts and dunks, and Deron Williams’ powerful slashes are some examples.

When MJ was around, he was the focus. Now the focus has spread. Spotlights hang over many cities, instead of just Chicago. I don’t see every kid with the same Michael Jordan poster on his wall. Some have Kevin Garnett. Others have Kobe.

Granted, fans still had other favorite players in the Jordan era. People still had rivalries. But people still hovered around Jordan, even in those rivalries. People’s favorite player was Ewing: one of Jordan’s rivals, or Barkley: one of Jordan’s rivals, or Isaiah: one of Jordan’s rivals. He was like the father of a hillbilly’s family—everybody was related to him.

Now my favorite players exist on their own. They might not have extreme rivalries—yet—but their skills entertain us so much, the added dimension of a rivalry isn’t even needed. Even so, the rivalries are gradually building.

Plenty of series in this year’s playoffs have gone at least six games, and the teams involved are developing some pretty intense relationships. Maybe next year, or perhaps by the end of this one, true rivalries will have emerged. We already have Pierce and James. Chris Paul and Tony Parker could end up being one for the ages depending on the intensity of their meetings over the next few years. Shaq could definitely grow a hatred for San Antonio; my guess is he already possesses some.

All these different league aspects continue pulling me towards the television in a deep hope, and belief, another jaw-dropping memorable play will undoubtedly unfold—and those plays are coming from all different directions.

I’ll never forget Jordan, but I’ll put him in the past. I’m crowning some new Kings (not just one, LeBron). After all, there are 450 players in the league, why should I spend all my time focusing on just one?