As our summer mainstay, Aaron's writing a 370-part series discussing almost every notable player who was -- as of last season -- getting minutes in the NBA. Intent is to get you talking, thinking, and appreciating the myriad of wonderful folks who play in our favorite sports league. Today we continue with Gary Forbes, Mario Chalmers, and Lou Williams.

• • •

Follow Gary Forbes on Twitter at @GForbz3.

Interesting story for Mr. Forbes. He's an American, but his origin is different than most NBA players -- Forbes was born in Panama, a rare spot for NBA talent, and reared for the league by way of Brooklyn. Before he played in the NBA, Forbes became one of the greatest players in U-Mass history (normal, though interesting because of the doldrums that program's been struggling with in Calipari's wake), plied his trade in the D-League (common), and Europe (less common). No, Europe isn't uncommon in a broad sense, but for an American-raised player to go overseas, do the D-League, and still make the league is pretty rare, and quite respectable. It takes some hard work and soul searching to make the league after that many rejections, and bully to Forbes for making it over and (in truth) finding real ways to contribute. Especially given his notable limitations -- Forbes, believe it or not, has Type 1 Diabetes. And thrives with it.

For what should be obvious reasons, Forbes didn't initially advertise this fact. Why should he? It's a great accomplishment, to be sure, but look what happens to players who openly advertise or show honesty in their health failings. When Andrew Bogut said he was operating at 85%, media hyenas ripped his comments apart and the Milwaukee front office was mad at him. Seemingly every year, a solid draft prospect gets their stock absolutely destroyed by injury factors beyond their control (Sullinger, Blair, et cetera). What's really stopping teams from assessing based on things like diabetes, or depression, or other chronic conditions? I totally get why Forbes didn't advertise it. After the fact became public knowledge, though, Forbes relented -- he proceeded to use his story as one to inspire, taking it to the American Diabetes Association and sharing his outlook on life with the disease. (For those wondering: eat right, exercise constantly, and don't let the illness detract from your dreams). Sort of heroic, in a sense -- being a professional athlete requires a pretty crazy training schedule, and juggling that with such an ubiquitous health problem in modern society is undoubtedly difficult.

As for his game, it's not incredible by any stretch of the imagination, but it's certainly NBA replacement-level. He's a scoring shooting guard who's passingly efficient (about 14-16 points per 36 minutes, usually spotting a role of about 10-20 MPG). He's a very good rebounder for a guard, and a decent acumen for passing. He's an OK three point shooter, though his percentages are a bit wanting at scoring from inside the arc. A bit more turnover prone than you'd perhaps want, but as long as he's not your primary ballhandler, you should be OK. He isn't a good defensive player, mind you -- while he was better in Toronto under Casey than he ever was under Karl in Denver, he still detracted from Toronto on that end of the court, and his lacking athleticism and length will hurt him for the rest of his NBA career. But he's certainly not bad. A bit old for a third year player (27), but not bad. Now, Forbes one of the many varied forwards and guards milling about in Daryl Morey's remarkably incoherent Houston Rockets "roster", as a tertiary piece in the Kyle Lowry trade. While I'm not 100% on board with Forbes as an NBA talent that's going to revolutionize a roster, I really like his story -- there's something about overcoming massive obstacles like his diabetes that really makes me smile.

• • •

_Follow Mario Chalmers on Twitter at __@mchalmers15.___

I think Mario Chalmers is a bit underrated. Not horrendously so -- he's a limited player in a lot of ways, and has several incredibly aggravating tendencies that detract from his positives. But Chalmers brings value to teams if he's used effectively, and part of the success story of the 2012 Heat wasn't simply that LeBron went murderous on the league when the playoffs began. It was that Spolestra finally, after almost two years, realized that Mario Chalmers was their best non-Wade guard and gave him the minutes to reflect it. Seriously. People may not agree with me on this, but I believe it strongly -- I think that the Heat would've probably won the title in 2011 if Spolestra had benched Mike Bibby and played Mario Chalmers. As someone who doesn't particularly like the Heat, I was absolutely happy that Spolestra decided to go with that rotation -- he played Bibby 20 minutes per game to Chalmers' 24, and it seemed even worse at the time. But I do think that if he'd given 10 of Bibby's minutes to Chalmers, the Heat probably win that title. Why? A few simple reasons. First, J.J. Barea destroyed the Heat in 2011, but only when Mike Bibby was on the court. When Chalmers was on, Barea did virtually nothing, because Mario Chalmers is actually a pretty good defender.

No, seriously. Stop laughing. Chalmers plays relatively physical defense, for a guard, and works hard to make sure whoever he's guarding has trouble getting to their pet spots on the floor. It's not a physical thing, entirely -- Chalmers is actually listed at the exact same height and weight as Bibby. The thing is, Chalmers has a lot of active quickness -- that is, the ability to move quickly in response to an opponent's movement, and to use the lateral quickness that most players use for isolation offense in order to switch positions quickly and freeze up offensive players. He's also a relatively decent shooter -- 38% from three isn't that bad, especially when he's putting up four of them a night. It's true that he's assisted on 90% of those threes, per Hoopdata, but that's still not all that bad a number for Chalmers. He's a solid if not remarkable finisher, and he doesn't hog the ball. Which is an important trait on a team that has LeBron James, Dwyane Wade, and Chris Bosh on it. This paragraph would lead the uninitiated to wonder why, then, Heat writers and players are so incredibly down on Mario. I think there are two main reasons.

Out of all the players in the league, I don't think there's anybody whose turnovers are quite as visually stunning as those of Chalmers. The best way to put it is that when most players turn over the ball, it's a mistake -- some random "whoops" moment where they usually just lost control for a split second. No big deal, but sad. When Chalmers gets a turnover? It's an event. It's a SportsCenter play-of-the-game. It's Mario Chalmers doing a backflip while trying to thread a pass through two referees and accidentally throwing the ball into the Indian Ocean. It's Mario Chalmers flashing a smile while trying to dribble the ball off his head as he composes an aria. It's Mario Chalmers handing the ball to the opposing point guard, giving him a pep talk, and standing like Jesus in the middle of the court while the play goes on at the other end. Mario Chalmers has the most hilarious turnovers in the game. I don't think there's any real doubt about this. And in turn, although his turnover rate isn't remarkably awful (though it IS pretty bad), Chalmers tends to be remembered more for his turnovers and fouls (which are pretty funny too) than the many good things he does on the court.

The second, and probably more important reason people seem to dislike him? He's apparently really, really obsessed with his own talent. He actually thinks he's the best player on the Miami Heat. Mario, you're underrated, but come on. That sort of mindless exuberance tends to color the impression people have of you, which would tend to explain why Heat journalists and players don't like him that much. And constantly yell at him. Given all these stories, I think the problem is clear -- Chalmers is taking lessons on how to live his life from Juwan Howard. "Chill out, Mario."

• • •

Follow Lou Williams on Twitter at @TeamLou23.__

Lou Williams is better than you think. Probably. If you're an average NBA fan -- or even an average Philadelphia fan -- you probably think of Williams as yet another cog in the conscience-abandoned chucker machine. Instant offense off the bench, but not really anything better than you'd get from players like Jamal Crawford, Nick Young, O.J. Mayo, or any of the other offensive-minded bench talents. No tertiary stuff, no external benefits, nothing. Just a chucker. ... Or so most people think. The big problem with that is that it's simply untrue -- while Lou Williams fits that general archetype of player, simply lumping him in with those folks is an incredibly stupid mistake. In terms of production and what Williams does to help a team, he's more akin to an in-control and subdued Monta Ellis, or a level just scantly below Kevin Martin. I got some blowback early in the season for picking Lou Williams as one of my picks for the all-star game, with my pick being soundly panned by most. But I maintain that even with the season over, Williams was pretty damn close to the All-Star game -- I'd go with Kyrie over him, now, but Williams had a really good season.

You may look at his stats and laugh at the supposition that Williams is really that much better than those other myriad instant-offense scoring guards. After all, what's so special about Lou? A few key things. First, despite having a very high usage rate year-after-year, Williams is absolutely amazing at taking care of the ball. Absolutely phenomenal at it. Last season in particular he was absolutely incredible -- for the year, Williams put up a turnover percentage of 7.2%. To contextualize how good that is, among guards playing more than 20 minutes a night and playing more than 10 games in a single season, Lou's full-season mark of 7.2% ranks 24th all-time. That's pretty insane. (And yes, I'll go over Jodie's spot on that list in due time.) While Lou's rebounding is rather crummy, his passing is (like Monta Ellis) relatively effective. And while it often seems like Williams chucks up shots with abandon when you watch him play, his free throw drawing talents combined with his effective stroke on isolation threes makes him a ridiculously efficient scorer, putting up a per-36 total of 21 points on 17 shots per game. And before you ask why he doesn't play more, I'd note that Williams is also one of the best in the league at avoiding fouls -- he averaged just 1.4 per game last season, and never had a game with five or more fouls. He also creates the majority of his offense on his lonesome -- Williams was able to score efficiently on that absurdly low turnover rate despite being assisted on only 40% of his shots, well below the league average of 50%, with that number being in the neighborhood of less-efficient burst scorers like Monta Ellis, Jamal Crawford, and Gary Neal.

So, how does all this -- none of it incredibly special in it's own right -- differentiate him from other burst scorers from the guard position? Simple. It all applies to him. You can find a burst scorer who has some passing talent (ex: Monta Ellis), or a burst scorer with a low propensity for turnovers (ex: Jodie Meeks), or a burst scorer with great efficiency (ex: Danny Green). But you simply can't find one that does it all. Williams consistently does all of these things, all the while barely getting injured at all and staying far, far away from foul trouble. When the Hawks were able to pick up Williams from the bargain bin on a 4-year $21 million dollar deal, I was shocked. I realize his defense isn't fantastic. It's a cliche, but he really does gamble a bit too much, and he doesn't effectively utilize the quickness that makes his crossover so deadly on the defensive end. Too focused on the steal, not focused enough on preventing the shot. There's also the inverse confirmation bias -- Philadelphia refused to run actual offensive sets or action at the end of close games, so Williams got a reputation for poorly-thought-out heroball (though I'd argue that was mostly the fault of Doug Collins, last season). He's also reached something of a peak -- at 26 years old, it's quite unlikely Williams gets THAT MUCH better going forward. But seriously... around $5 million a year? You're talking about one of the best burst scorers in the league, in his prime. You're talking about a position that publications like Wages of Wins have been saying NBA decisionmakers overpay to some level of grotesque state of hyper-indulgence, and you're telling me that all the man could get was $5 million a year? ___Less than the old midlevel?!

---

Yes, suffice to say, I think the Williams acquisition was a great steal for a Hawks team that should be a lot better than most people expect. If Horford stays healthy, Williams can pick up 90% of the slack from Joe Johnson at (literally) a fourth of the price. Devin Harris should strengthen their point guard rotation, and add a healthy Horford to that team, and you have exactly what you normally have -- a solid 4-5 seed that'll put up a fight. Except... with incoming cap space, instead of books locked down til the day I die. Good show, Danny Ferry. It's also nice because Williams is actually from Atlanta -- the hometown connection is always fun, when a player gets to play 41 games a year in front of local friends and family. Should be fun. Off the court, Williams is mostly notable to me as one of the two or three best rappers in the NBA. I realize that's sort of damning with faint praise, as being "the best rapper in the NBA" is akin to being the best "mystery" flavored dum-dum at the dentist's office, but hey, I'm serious. He's actually pretty alright. Go listen to his stuff, you probably won't be THAT disappointed. And even if you are, you should read this line-by-line analysis of Lou's freestyle, because it's ridiculously hilarious and easily worth some time.

• • •

At the end of each post, I'll be scribing riddles for the next group. Whoever gets the most right will get a shout out at the end of the next post. Tweet me your answers at @docrostov, or post them in the comments. We got one three out of three from commenter Brian, though I'll also shout out LexThunder for being the first one to realize that "Gary Forbes" is the most CEO-ish name in the NBA, by far. Congrats, Brian! And good working together, folks. Teamwork!

More soon. Also, shout-out to reader Adam Johnson, who emailed asking if my sign-off from the last post was inspired by this excellent JaVale tweet. Yes, Adam. It was.

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As our summer mainstay, Aaron's writing a 370-part series discussing almost every notable player who was -- as of last season -- getting minutes in the NBA. Intent is to get you talking, thinking, and appreciating the myriad of wonderful folks who play in our favorite sports league. Today we continue with Dorell Wright, JaVale McGee, and Kevin Martin.

• • •

Follow Dorell Wright on Twitter at @DWRIGHTWAY1.

Dorell Wright is a decent player. He's not exactly an incredibly high upside player, but so long as he can hover around what he's done the last few years, he'll stick in the league a long time. Most people assume that Wright's 2012 season -- in which his playing time collapsed, his shooting percentages dropped, and his aggressiveness waned -- was a disappointment in the context of his broader career. I'm not so sure that's true. To be sure, it wasn't quite as impressive as his fantasy gold-mine in the 2011 season, where Wright played the fourth most minutes in the entire league and took an insane amount of three pointers, to great effect. But it had its own positives. Like, for instance, his rebounding, which improved from a career-low rebounding percentage of 12% to a very solid 14%. While his efficiency dropped, he also dropped the number of possessions he used up, which theoretically could've helped the team a bit even if it was absolutely frustrating (as a fan) to watch him throw away open shots with regularity. His turnovers dropped precipitously as well -- Wright had only 51 turnovers in 61 games, an impressively low sum. In fact, only two other players produced that few turnovers in that many minutes -- Richard Jefferson and Thaddeus Young.

This isn't to say it's all good. Wright's defense was decent to start the season, but only for a few games. He suffered a left knee contusion in a January game, and from then on out, Wright returned to his tentative self on defense. Most people forget this, but early in Wright's tenure in the league, he was a massive injury risk -- most of Wright's early seasons are spotted with missed games and surgery-related ills galore, which tends to explain Wright's passive approach to defense. Early this season, off his 82 game stalwart year, it seemed like Wright's passive approach had waned, but a quick reminder of his injury demons brought back the passive tendencies on the defensive end. A pity. While he's no athletic freak, he has relatively decent timing and great length, which makes most coaches/fans imagine that he could be much better on the defensive end. To be fair, the hesitance from injuries is a perfectly reasonable barrier to his becoming a plus defender. But it's still a problem. Also an issue is Wright's hesitance on offense, as I touched on in the first paragraph -- often in 2012, Wright would simply refuse the ball if he wasn't feeling it. This is a respectable trait in some ways -- a player determined not to let his lacking offensive performance harm his team -- and a less-than-salutatory bad habit in the more overriding sense that as a poor defender, offensive contributions are what he's supposed to be doing.

I'm not sure I love the acquisition of Wright by the Sixers, all things considered. I understand they're trying (somewhat foolishly, in my opinion) to convert natural SF Evan Turner to be their SG of the future -- but even then, Philadelphia's two best remaining players with Brand's defensive rock gone are Andre Iguodala and the still-inexplicably-benched Thaddeus Young. There aren't going to be a ton of minutes for Wright to play unless they trade Iguodala (something that reports say is exceedingly unlikely) or play Wright at SG (something that his size and inactivity on defense say is extremely silly). While I think Wright could thrive in the sort of free-form "Lou Williams" role on next year's Sixers (and, indeed, his stats are very similar to Lou's), that's going to require a lot of lineup wrangling on the part of Doug Collins to make sure Wright is properly featured and properly supported. A tall task for Collins, though if you have faith in his role as a talent facilitator and Philadelphia's very own pied piper, you might be excited about Wright. He's not quite as good as the ridiculously underrated Williams, but he fulfills the same role and if Collins manages the minutes effectively it's unlikely that the switchover is going to harm the team at all.

• • •

_Follow JaVale McGee on Twitter at __@JaValeMcGee34.___

Here at the Gothic, we find McGee to be a sometimes-muse, inspiring both strange fictional pieces and pieces inspired by his altogether hilarious postseason run. There isn't really anyone like him in the league today -- nobody else quite embodies McGee's combination of odd detachment and preposterous antics the way he does. And I mean that seriously. Have you ever watched a JaVale McGee interview? It's an experience. The way he simply refuses to look at the camera, the detached devil-may-care approach to his team and the game discussed, the refusal to acknowledge his personal antics? I don't agree with whoever titled that video, necessarily -- it isn't really all that awkward, it's more a simple detachment endemic to he who doesn't like talking about himself. But that's the problem. JaVale seems to love talking about himself, at least on Twitter, where he engages in all sorts of silly, absurd antics. Whether that's retweeting himself, spouting off about his Pierre alter-ego, or asking his followers to find him a Denver segway shop, McGee's personal antics are as outgoing and creative as his interviews are detached and lifeless. And as the riddle indicated, he's the greatest planking talent of all time.

Which, in some ways, makes McGee a nigh-perfect representative of the latest generation. Not simply of NBA players, but of this generation of human beings in general. There's been an increased prevalence in the visibility of hyperactivity disorders like ADHD and autism spectrum disorders like Asperger's -- not necessarily because there's been significantly_ more_ of either illness, but because screening techniques have gotten increasingly sophisticated and cases that would once have been fringe cases not-to-be treated have become treatable and accepted. This isn't to say McGee is autistic, or deals with ADHD -- he might, but that is completely unrelated to the point here, and it's absurd to speculate when you simply don't know. It's simply to say that in how McGee treats the press and lets loose on twitter, McGee perfectly represents this new generation of kids and teenagers. There's the trouble concentrating, the alternatingly brilliant and boneheaded moves, the difficulty looking reporters in the eye one-on-one. All of this reflects, in a strange way, the generation in which McGee was reared.

There may have been players -- lost to history -- who could've gotten away with treating the press as JaVale McGee does. There have been players who make an art of boneheaded play interspersed with moments of imaginitive joyous perfection since the league began -- that's part of the human condition. But in this age of proper screening, and incredible visibility into the lives of NBA players? JaVale can't escape the image -- he can't simply retreat as Moses Malone did and expect the media to ignore it, or expect the scatterbrained plays to be ignored on SportsCenter. It gives him a special notoriety now that he wouldn't have achieved in any prior generation. Just as disorders of the mental sense -- personality, autism spectrum, hyperactivity all -- are better screened in the modern era, the media deluge in effect "screens" better for players like McGee. It's an occupational hazard of playing in this generation, I suppose.

As for his game, while I used to hate it, I've come around to it. I realize how frustrating he is to watch for fans of the Washington Wizards, and I realize that if he was on a team I actively rooted for I'd probably despise him. His lacking effort is storied, and his devil-may-care attitude towards the press doesn't help matters. But as I wrote in the piece I linked to at the start this capsule, I really feel as though McGee's insane on-court play is due not to a deficit of brains but rather an exceedingly impressive surfiet of imagination. His talent is undeniable, and his knack for turning the simple into the difficult (not boxing out in preference to skying above multiple seven footers for rebounds, taking the ball up the court instead of getting prepared to receive a lob, going for a spinning under-the-basket hook shot instead of a simple dunk) strikes me less as a player who'll never put it together and more as a player whose idea of "putting it together" is simply on a different plane of existence than we are.

JaVale McGee may not be an easy player to watch, especially if you watch enough basketball to realize how dominant a player of his physique could be if he simply played conventionally. But there's a lot to be said for the journey a player takes to become a true monster in this league, and it really seems like McGee is aiming not simply to be a conventionally dominant center, but to also be one of the most creative centers of his era. Does it really matter if he is? From a wins and losses standpoint, certainly not. But from an aesthetic perspective, how could we ignore it?

• • •

Don't follow Kevin Martin on Twitter, because he doesn't have one.__

I wasn't kidding in the riddle. Ever since the 2007 season, Kevin Martin has been among the greatest one-man offensive players in the NBA, at least in terms of efficiency. There are two extremely efficient things that a shooting guard can do on offense -- get to the line and shoot a three. Look at it this way -- the best offense in the league last year, the San Antonio Spurs, scored roughly 1.00 points per possession. Kevin Martin is an 85% free throw shooter. Every single time Kevin Martin goes to the line, his expected points for that possession are his FT% * Points Scored -- so, 0.85. His expected PPP of a possession where he goes to the line for two shots is 1.70. The same property of well-above-average production holds true of his three point shot, where Martin is a career 0.377 -- that leads to an expected PPP of 1.13. Those are two of Martin's biggest play types, by far, and both of them blow the combined efforts of one of the greatest offenses in the league out of the water. He knows what works.

It's no wonder, then, that Martin is so blasted efficient. Because all things considered, he does virtually nothing else. Martin is essentially a case study in the idea that an NBA player could be an offensive star simply by paring his game down to only a few specific, efficient play types. To wit, over Martin's career, he's scored 8728 points. Of those points, 2232 came from behind the three point line, and 2716 of them came from the free throw line. That means that in Martin's career, almost 60% of the points he's scored came from free throws or threes. There are many people who take a lot of free throws -- there are currently 29 active players that have made more than Martin in their careers -- but few are oh-so reliant on them. Few non-superstars, anyway. In any event, Martin has made a living paring his offense down to a few highly efficient shots and play-types. And he's done a good job of it, up until age began to bite at his efficiency last season.

So, given all these things, why is he so hard to watch? After all, I'm a statistician in my day job. I obsessively try to make every aspect of my life more efficient, and take great joy in it. But Kevin Martin's game simply rubs me the wrong way, you know? It's not a lack of effort -- you get this robotic sense watching Martin, that his anemic defense is calculated in its laziness, knowing he can exert some amount more energy on offense if he lays back on defense. He gives up his body to the game, playing all-out and risking injury constantly for the benefit of his free throw efficiency -- exactly what most people chastise stars for avoiding (although it's led to lots of injury issues, with Martin). He takes efficient shots and makes them. He's the type of player can score 30 on 15 shots, without really breaking a sweat.

But this game, this style... is simply so dull, so bare, so bereft of creativity. It's incredibly hard to watch on a regular basis. He's the essence of the stat-geek stereotype -- this player that advanced metrics say is (in theory) very good but a player whose eye-test absolutely says otherwise. If basketball is an art form, players like Tim Duncan are hardly the cold and calculating robots that publications like Free Darko make them out to be. It's Martin that really embodies it, always striving emotionlessly for that added tincture of efficiency. It's a quest, for Martin, and in its own lost and hollow way you wonder if his obsession with efficiency is just the thing that's always kept him from playing for a relevant team. For all of Martin's myriad positives, I can't escape the stinging pangs of the deepest recesses of my heart. Kevin Martin's game is simply boring. He's the little black spot on the sun today, the same old thing as yesterday -- the king of pain, tedium, and a logic so cruel and calculating it overrides the impressive efficiency with which he yokes his craft.

(... Until last season, where he simply sucked. But don't tell Houston that.)

• • •

At the end of each post, I'll be scribing riddles for the next group. Whoever gets the most right will get a shout out at the end of the next post. Tweet me your answers at @docrostov, or post them in the comments. Commenters Corn and Umlaut both got 2/3, missing different ones. No 3/3, but at least there was a correct answer for each of the riddles by SOMEONE.

More on Wednesday. Stay thirsty, my friends.

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As our summer mainstay, Aaron's writing a 370-part series discussing almost every notable player who was -- as of last season -- getting minutes in the NBA. Intent is to get you talking, thinking, and appreciating the myriad of wonderful folks who play in our favorite sports league. This week starts with Isaiah Thomas, Gilbert Arenas, and Blake Griffin.

• • •

Follow Isaiah Thomas on Twitter at @Isaiah_Thomas2.

I really like Isaiah Thomas. The 60th pick in last year's draft, Thomas has already proven to be the greatest 60th draft pick in the history of the NBA. Think that's crazy? It's true. (Ed. Note: Actually, I was wrong, it isn't quite true. I forgot that the draft used to go three rounds, meaning that there are a wealth of 60th picks that site doesn't pick up -- including Drazen Petrovic, whose career was indeed solid and who could yet turn out to be the best 60th pick. Though if Isaiah gets at all better and has any longevity, the argument is null. Still, thanks to Greg Wissinger & commenter jbeumer for noting this fact. I left the rest of the post unscathed, but know that I realize the error in my original ways.) Now, I admit, that's a pretty tricky fact, and one could argue it's mostly because the 60th pick didn't actually exist until the league added the Charlotte Bobcats for a total of 30 franchises in 2004. Thus, he's the best out of a set of 7 players. So... okay, that's not all that big of an accomplishment. More notable, in my view, is rating Thomas next to his contemporaries at the point guard position. Or, as the nice folks at Sactown Royalty best summarized here, the fact that you can actually do that. The first season or two a player spends in the NBA is necessarily difficult and hard-to-manage -- the entire lifestyle is different, and atop that, there are new playbooks and more athleticism than any NBA prospect has ever seen in their lives. Temptations abound, practice is tough, and the travel demands are insane. It's hard for a rookie to see daylight, in most cases, let alone produce numbers comparable to a veteran NBA player.

But that's exactly what Isaiah Thomas did. There were four rookies who really put up veteran-level performances last season -- Kyrie Irving (who was a star), Kenneth Faried (who still didn't crack Karl's depth chart until the last third of the year), Kawhi Leonard (who may yet be a star), and good ol' Isaiah. There was no element of rookie rust in their games -- each of these players came to play, every night, and brought to their teams the kind of production usually reserved for a man two or three years into their career, at the very least. To do that at any point in a league as tough as the NBA is impressive, but to do that your rookie year? That takes some incredible fortitude and grit, doubly so to do it off of a low draft position where one had to painstakingly earn his stay. Thomas played the part of a solid, potential-laden point remarkably well.

And perhaps calling him solid underrates him. His true shooting percentage last year -- a blistering 57% -- would place him in the top 60 all-time among NBA players, if he continued shooting at roughly that pace his entire career. There are a total of 6 guards in the entire history of the NBA who put up rookie numbers like Isaiah's -- that is, 11-2-4 on a true shooting percentage above 55%. Incredible company, that. And remember -- he was the 60th player chosen in last year's draft, and was passed on by 59 teams before the Kings finally decided to pick him up. In style, he's pint-sized but scrappy, with a pesky defensive touch and an adept maturity handling the ball and keeping his defender on a string. His rebounding was solid -- 2.6 rebounds a game doesn't seem like much to the uninitiated, but for a point guard, that's actually a rather impressive total. And it's made all the more impressive by the scant 25 minutes a contest he achieved it in. Thomas was solid, promising, and has areas to improve. And he did it all with a refreshing style, a humble assurance about him, and being just barely large enough for the league. Incredible.

A few personal items on the adorable/awesome stage from Mr. Thomas. Here, we have a highlight reel from Isaiah Thomas' formative years -- specifically, sixth grade -- where Thomas proceeds to style on all comers. The young Thomas is caught on camera diving into the stands like a madman, throwing up rainbow threes, and scarring young defenders with unguardable behind-the-back dribbles and enough style to make Mike Bibby descend into a quivering mass of fright and horror. The second is a personal tale about Isaiah growing up -- this piece discusses how Thomas struggled in school as a young kid, and how he overcame the problems he grew up with. And then, if you want one singular example of how entertaining he is? Check out this HD version of Isaiah's absolutely breathtaking buzzer-beater to win the Pac-10 tournament and clinch an appearance in the 2011 NCAA tournament. And this is the guy that went 60th in the draft. But that's all for the best. Because we now have, barring something insane, the best (or close to it) 60th pick in the draft sewn up for the next 20-30 years.

Good work, Isaiah. Keep proving folks wrong.

• • •

_Follow Gilbert Arenas on Twitter at __@agentzeroshow.___

There are two ways to approach the problem of Gilbert Arenas. The first is simply to reflect on what he is now. That is to say, he's a washed up old player who's beginning to enter the waning, depressing years of his career. A player forced to sell his hilarious and ridiculous mansion-grotto in the D.C. area to help put away money for when the salary runs dry. He shot 34% from the field (not from three, from the field) in 2011 and an only-slightly-better 40% in 2012 (tailing off to an abominable 25% in the playoffs). He's had his problems on twitter, and his problems in court. Then there was the gun issue, and the sometimes-depression, and the ill-fated term with the Magic. Things haven't gone well for Gilbert, recently. There's no denying that.

Alternatively, you can reflect on what Gil was. That is, an electric scorer whose skillset dazzled as much as his off-court antics amused. Gilbert Arenas is one of few players in the history of the league who truly excelled at the no-conscience 28 to 38-foot three pointer -- the shot no man would deign to guard, and fewer still would dare to take. In his prime, Gil was an electric shooter who nevertheless got much of his value from just how often he'd get to the line -- in Gilbert's best season, 2007, he was a few free throws away from leading the league in free throws drawn per-minute. He also was always a more complete player than he was ever given credit for -- always one of the best rebounders from the guard position in the league, a decent (if sometimes unwilling) passing talent, and more style than just about anyone else in the league. His defense has always been awful, but as a guard in the hand-check era, you can get away with that. You can also reflect on what he still is -- according to many of his current teammates, Arenas emerged as a off-the-bench leader for them. Despite his lacking production, and his age, and his varied injuries -- there's still a wealth of respect there, and the sense that Arenas truly has been in the trenches of the playoff wars. Has he? Not really. He's only had one particularly inspiring personal playoff run, that being the Wizards' 2006 thriller against a very good Cleveland Cavaliers team. But the sense remains, and respect persists.

One last thing. The gun issue will always loom darkly over Gilbert's legacy, but all things considered, shouldn't Javaris Crittenton's current status exonerate him a bit? Yes, Arenas offered the gun, but it was only after threats from Crittenton and multiple confrontations. And while at the time Arenas bore the brunt of the blame, years later, Crittenton was arrested on suspicion of murdering a pregnant mother of four in a drive-by shooting. I'm not one to think that this truly EXONERATES Arenas, but doesn't this at least partially let him off the hook? For Arenas, there hasn't been a single report of trouble since the incident. The only thing is his divorce, but even then, how is that any way comparable to murder? Nobody knows exactly what went on in that locker room, and nobody knows the conditions under which the spat occurred. But if Crittenton's disturbing recent history tells us anything, it would tend to indicate that Arenas might've gotten far too much of the blame for the incident.

And that says it all for poor Gilbert. A man doomed to be eternally in the wrong place at the wrong time, whose skills -- never easy to appreciate in the first place -- made to be a longstanding joke in a tableau of bad ideas and poor decisions. I'm hoping he comes back next year, plays a full healthy season, and goes off into the sunset after a long playoff run as a contributor to a good team. I don't have much faith it happens. But I hope all the same. So here's to you, Gilbert -- the second half of one of my favorite interviews ever, and an interesting person despite his myriad flaws. At least you have your millions, mate.

• • •

_Follow Blake Griffin on Twitter at @blakegriffin_.

I'll come clean. Blake Griffin isn't a player I enjoy watching. All of two years into what will probably be a 12-15 year NBA career, it's a bit of a journey to realize why. All things considered, Blake has been an exceedingly impressive NBA player in his two year run. He's been a plus rebounder, ranking in the top 10 in rebounds-per-game twice in his two-year career. (Yes, that's every year.) His passing is and has always been absolutely exquisite -- he's the best passing big man this side of Pau Gasol, and while he's not as good as Tim Duncan was early in Duncan's career, that's a ridiculous standard to hold a young player to. Furthermore, Blake's scoring has been solid, if not incredible -- 21 points per game is a fantastic total, and his 55% field goal percentage is eye-popping, but I'd say that any player who takes five shots a game from 10 feet outward despite shooting less than 37% from that range falls quite a bit short of incredible, especially when he's hovering around 50% from the free throw line.

I remember when Blake entered the league in 2009, there was talk that he was working hard to develop a three point shot. He broke it out a few times in preseason, and the form was decent, but he was making very few of them. That pattern continued badly when he finally got past his injuries and made it to the league -- he's made a total of nine three point shots on a startling forty attempts, including a downright hilarious 2-16 in the 2012 season. As he goes forward in his career, he should eventually clean that up (as well as his broader problem of taking far too many tough fadeaway jump shots he has no chance of hitting), but as of now it's absurd that his coach and teammates don't sit him down and go "Blake. Come on, buddy. You aren't Juwan Howard. Chill out." So too are the free throw attempts a problem -- until Blake can consistently make over 70% of his free throws (of note: the league average for the four was 74% last season, so that's not a huge bar to climb), Griffin's trips to the line are going to be a proverbial shut-off valve for his productivity. Much like Shaq at his prime, actually.

And there we go. That uncovers the underlying problem. I've never really been a fan of Shaq's game -- dominant from a physical standpoint, certainly, but the defense fell off soon after he left Orlando. The offense was always amazing, and a feat to watch. But I never escaped the sense of Shaq as a player holding himself back simply by refusing to grow up and take care of his gift. That was what differentiated O'Neal from Duncan and Garnett, for me -- both of them went on extreme diets and went about their efforts to keep in shape quietly, while O'Neal only late in his career began to realize all the years he'd simply thrown away with his exuberant overindulgence and his devil-may-care attitude towards his physical gifts. Someday, he wouldn't simply be able to dunk on everyone. What would he do then? As we saw, he'd fade away as something of a joke -- his last few years were ineffective due to either his inability to accept his fading athleticism (Cleveland) or his inability to keep lingering injuries from slaying his ability to stay on the court (Boston). And the off-court shenanigans? There's some element of fakery and facile impishness to Shaq's antics -- it wowed the uninitiated, but to those partial to the darker recesses of Shaq's problems with outright idea-swiping, there was a hollow and disturbing undertone to his clowning around. Which is perhaps why he's been such a bust at TNT.

Regardless. Shaq rubs me the wrong way, and in a similar sense, Blake's two years have done the same. Coming out of college I was completely aboard the Blake Griffin bandwagon, thinking him to be a generational talent that was soon to remake the league in his own image. Perhaps I overestimated him, but watching him in the league, I simply get the sense that there's a surfeit of exposure around him that's put up a wall between him and the advancement of his game. In his two years, I simply haven't seen any tangible evolution from Blake -- he came into the league as a flexing dunkmaster with the potential for a bruising post game, all-world rebounding talent, and admittedly woeful defense. At two years running, he's... a flexing dunkmaster with the potential for a bruising post game, all-world rebounding talent, and admittedly woeful defense. Blake Griffin's defensive evolution has been essentially absent in his time in the league. Whether you attribute it to his incredibly lacking length or a lack of effort on his part, he's been an awful defender with seemingly no real desire to get better.

In fact, the only thing he's really gotten better at -- in terms of his "defense" -- has been his preening, wherein he's been more artful and boistrous about his exaltations at dunks over other players as his time in the league goes on. He's also gotten a bit dirtier -- Blake sets awful screens, but instead of learning how to set proper ones, he nudges the roller or grabs a jersey surreptitiously. Or not so surreptitiously. He doesn't take much of an effort to recover on spot-up shooters, but he does put in the effort to whinge endlessly at the referees when he feels they've missed a foul call. Which, full disclosure, I don't totally mind when Manu Ginobili does it. But that's mostly because Manu doesn't tend to let it impact possessions -- Blake has several possessions a night where he simply doesn't return on defense, too busy yelling his case with abandon to the closest referee. And all that said? Look at his numbers. A guaranteed 20-10, night after night. The heir apparent as best passing big man in the NBA. Probably will improve, at least on offense, as his shot selection works itself out. He's a great player already (not top 10, as last year's NBA Rank would indicate, but at least top 30). Someday, Blake can be a great NBA player. But that does involve developing, a bit -- he hasn't done it yet, and with effort like this, I find myself almost hoping he doesn't. After all. Shaq "developed" his way into a dominant run and it ruined his later career -- maybe, just maybe, if Blake hits a wall he'll realize he need to defend and set screens and do all that nice stuff. Maybe he'll figure it all out, and his off-court stuff will seem less mass-marketed for public consumption and more from-the-heart. Perhaps he'll figure it all out and make the me of a few years ago -- who really loved Griffin's game and wanted him to be a great NBA player -- a believer again.

As of yet, he hasn't. But he's 23, believe it or not. Kid's got time, thankfully.

• • •

At the end of each post, I'll be scribing riddles for the next group. Whoever gets the most right will get a shout out at the end of the next post. Tweet me your answers at @docrostov, or post them in the comments. We got a 3/3 again, from reader Umlaut. Good work, sir.

More tomorrow. Sorry for the delay on today's batch. Oversleeping isn't cool for cats.

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As our summer mainstay, Aaron's writing a 370-part series discussing almost every notable player who was -- as of last season -- getting minutes in the NBA. Intent is to get you talking, thinking, and appreciating the myriad of wonderful folks who play in our favorite sports league. This week's closing salvo: George Hill, Carmelo Anthony, and Andrew Bogut.

• • •

Follow George Hill on Twitter at @George_Hill3.
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You know, all things considered, I think I like Hill's game less than any other Spurs fan I know. I mean that. I love his personality -- very humble, extremely hard worker, and a guy you want in your corner. There are certainly good things, too -- when he gets locked in, he's a nasty defender that occasionally goes a bit dirty. On offense he doesn't tend to dominate the ball, and only takes shots he has a somewhat reasonable chance of making. To a limited degree, he can play the point. But even when you put together all these positive aspects, there's something lacking. There's this sense that Hill embodies the spirit of a true sixth man -- not a Manu Ginobili or Lamar Odom type, but a player whose contributions are simply utterly tertiary to the team he serves. Can George Hill really be one of the best starters on a championship team? I don't think that's true. He can shoot wide-open threes, but when the defense keys in on shutting down his shot, Hill's offensive game collapses. And his passing isn't something that he came into the league with -- it's developed, a quasi-robotic singularity. Which is impressive.

Very few players have developed their point guard talents from virtually nothing. Hill's ability to do so makes him special, in all the best ways. Taken altogether, the way Hill developed is pretty inspiring. Hill entered the league as a legitimately terrible NBA player. No consistent shot from any distance, no passing ability of note (beyond the obvious telegraphed passes that rookies love to break out), and a hesitant first step. All he really had going for him was his solid dribbling, his decent ball control, and his hustle plays -- blocks at the basket, steals, rebounds, etc. But when he entered his sophomore training camp, Hill was a markedly different player -- still a lacking playmaker (something he's developed in years since), but his offensive game had undergone an incredible transformation. A hustling array of floaters, runners, and a consistent form to his jumper -- all of it was serviceable at the least and incredible at best. The fact that Hill rose above the doldrums of his rookie campaign to become a decent NBA offensive player is a relatively awesome testament to Hill's work ethic, and the brutal efficacy of the Spurs' player development efforts.

Now, none of this is to say that Hill is necessarily unstoppable -- he made an incredible leap from an offensive horror-show to a passable offensive player, but the developed quality of his game doesn't lend itself to many shows of blithely unstoppable play. If faced with a good defense that's scouted his tendencies, Hill has a lot of trouble really excelling -- that was one of his huge problems against the Grizzlies in 2011 and one of his biggest woes against Miami in 2012. He can use his dribble to captivate a defense, but if the defense knows what to expect, he doesn't quite have the creativity to outsmart it. But it IS to say that Hill's ability to rise above his natural talent and develop skills nobody quite expected him to have on an NBA level is respectable and interesting -- while I'm not a huge fan of his overall game, as it stands, I am a huge fan of the journey that brought him to his game. If you know what I mean. I liked his pickup for Indiana, and while I think his new contract is a bit much, I like the fact that Hill's NBA journey brought him back to his Indiana roots, and I love the fact that the Pacers have a locked up trio of Hill, Hibbert, and George. They'll need to be creative to build a title team around them, but that's always true in a market like Indiana. The core is absolutely there. And it doesn't hurt having Hill around for the invisible benefits -- according to trusted female sources, Hill is "definitely the hottest player in the NBA" and "a total dreamboat." So, if the Pacers were having trouble picking up the "ladies who want to watch attractive NBA players do press conferences" demographic (and judging by their attendance woes, they were having trouble with basically every demographic), the Hill acquisition made a heck of a lot of sense. Larry Bird knew what he was doing.

• • •

Follow Carmelo Anthony on Twitter at @carmeloanthony.

I'm not really a big Melo fan, so I'm going to try to make this quick, as the point of this series isn't for me to belabor the point on why I don't like certain players. I think Carmelo Anthony is one of the 10 best offensive players in the NBA. He has an incredibly slick midrange shot, his elbow jumper is virtually unguardable, and his ability to finish under duress is pretty incredible. He's not as good at finishing as Wade or LeBron, but then again, who is? The singular thing that keeps Melo from being top-5 (and heavily detracts from his argument as a star) is his shot selection -- or more specifically, Melo's general inability to shoot threes. Many Melo fans blow this criticism off. After all, guys. He's a shot creator, and it's okay if he's a little inefficient from three because every shot Carmelo takes is a Sisyphean challenge to the universe and logic. Thus, we should forgive all flaws in his shot distribution as necessary and reasonable -- keeps the defense on their toes, natch! But what is a shot creator, really? What is it about those two words that makes every poor shooting decision by a player excusable and every place a player refuses to fix their form a solid decision?

On defense, Carmelo is a lot worse than top-10, and arguably more like a bottom-10 player. It's true, my Knick fan friends -- when Melo gets keyed in, plays the power forward position, and really tries to defend, he's a passable defensive player. Not good -- passable. You can survive with him as a defender there. At the small forward slot, though? He's not quick enough to cover anyone, and he's never really put in the effort to learn how to rotate. The problem with playing him at power forward is two-fold -- while he's a good rebounder from the wing, he's a poor rebounder if you're playing him as a big man, so he needs to be played next to a rebounding wizard to make sure the Knicks don't get crushed on the boards. And then there's the other issue -- when Melo gets placed in a one-on-one situation with a mobile big man, the defensive problems rear their ugly head once more. Melo is not a player who can guard players like Tim Duncan or Pau Gasol over an entire series -- unlike LeBron, he has neither the size nor the appetite for it, and it's a huge problem going forward for a Knicks team that's produced far better numbers with Melo at the PF slot. And his passing is an issue too, though that's not totally relevant here.

Which leads to the overall assessment of Melo. He's a superstar brand without superstar production -- essentially the P.F. Changs of NBA players. Sure, everyone knows who he is. Sure, he's consistent. Sure, he's a little expensive. But are these particularly good things? Melo has done what he does for the last four years with no real evolution or change to his game. If you like what he did in Denver, you'll like what he's doing in New York. But it's not the best at his position, or anywhere close. His poor defense and generally limited game lead him to be lumped in a group of NBA players that are Melo's polar opposites -- poor offensive players with nevertheless rock-solid defensive games, like Luol Deng and Andre Iguodala. Both of these players are about as useful to have on your team as Carmelo Anthony, at slightly less money and with slightly less hype. If you prefer offense, as most NBA watchers do, Melo's a bit more fun to watch. And that's fine. But I don't really understand the superstar talk, and all things considered, I don't think I ever will.

• • •

_Follow Andrew Bogut on Twitter at @AndrewMBogut_.

Many people wrote Andrew Bogut off his first few seasons as a draft bust at #1, and some continue to do so even after a few excellent seasons. I've had a soft spot for him, though. Bogut has a very old-school game -- an incredible thirst for rebounding, and his defense is (and has been since his third year) a level beyond spectacular. Really. In terms of defensive impact, I think there are three "can't beat" defensive players in the league. One is Dwight Howard, whose defense needs no introduction. Another is Kevin Garnett, who's still beastly when he gets on a roll. And the last of the three? A healthy -- or even an 85% -- Andrew Bogut. I say that sincerely. If we were taking defensive acumen exogenous of a player's athletic ability, I might even take Bogut ahead of Howard -- Bogut dragged arguably worse defenders to a top-5 defense in 2011, and even last year, according to the NBA's advanced stats tool the Bucks with Bogut on-court surrendered just 88 points per 48 minutes on 41% shooting -- all of which would've led the league. By a small margin, mind you (thanks to commenter asds for pointing that out), but it would have. Bogut impacts the opposing offense in so many ways, it's almost rude to try and boil it down to a single aspect. It's hard to find an aspect of his defensive game that lacks polish.

He's an excellent pick and roll defender, even on limited mobility, and always seems to make the astute calculation of where he needs to help and where he needs to lay back. He's got enough size to bother big men like Dwight Howard and Al Horford in the post when they try to back him down, and he's got quick hands that allow him to bother on the dribble to keep his man from getting into a rhythmic motion. He's an excellent shot blocker, and he doesn't overjump on his contest or get caught in the air very often. The real issue with Bogut isn't really his fault, exactly -- he's suffered two freak injuries over his career that have colored his last three years poorly. When asked about his injury history, Bogut famously stated that his major injuries have been "the equivalent of walking under 1,000 ladders and seeing 1,000 black cats." I tend to agree. He was hit at a bad angle while he was going for a dunk and absolutely obliterated his arm after an accidental push. He stepped on a player's foot during one of his few errant block contests and shattered his own. It's not like Bogut could've fixed these injuries by improving his conditioning or working out more. Unfortunately, the injury woes have sapped his offensive game almost into nonexistence -- his once difficult-to-guard post moves are now merely difficult-to-watch, and his once "bad, but whatever" free throw form is now cringe-worthy. While the full-package Bogut we saw in 2010 was an All-Star, the Bogut we saw in 2011 was merely an all-defense standout and a completely inexplicable snub from the 2nd team all-defense. He dragged that Bucks team to a top-5 defense. Look at that roster. Look at his backups. How can you ignore a defensive performance like that?

Instead of waxing philosophical about Bogut's personal life, I'd like to dig up a pretty old beef. Years ago, there was an absurd confrontation between Bogut and the leading-edge writers of NBA Fanhouse. Ziller and acting editor Rob Peterson posted a daily post -- the Works, if you remember it -- and had a segment on Bogut's perceived racial insensitivity. Now, I completely agree with Ziller's main point (that the ad was troubling). The main problem with the ad isn't necessarily the casual racism (which is still troubling) but the fact that the ad tastelessly boils black athletes down to something that actually happened -- it turned one of the most tasteless stories of the last decade in Australian sports into an impossibly stupid sight gag, and worse, made that the only instance of a non-white player in the advertisement. It was a bad advertisement through-and-through, though the outward racism of the gag was less of a problem than the implied historical connection that most didn't quite realize. That's the point that I think most people missed, and what really made the ad disturbing to me. Anyway. Bogut called criticism of the ad "crazy crazy" in a casual twitter conversation, which isn't cool at all, and isn't exactly warranted. I think he was clearly in the wrong there. But does that response REALLY warrant stringing Bogut up as an ignorant racist, a mindless welfare-hater, and bringing back only marginally offensive comments he said when he was 19 years old? The confrontation came later, when Bogut told "Nathanial Friedman" (Shoals' actual name) to kiss his ass on Twitter in a now-deleted Molotov (that he later said was somewhat facetious -- knowing Bogut's humor, I actually would buy that, but bear with me).

Most people mocked him endlessly about it -- Tom Ziller was the one who wrote the offending piece, therefore, Bogut's anger was comical and misplaced. But what most people didn't notice was that the author section atop the piece (at the time) said "by Bethlehem Shoals", not by Ziller or Peterson. Call me stupid (and, you know, I am) but I actually thought Shoals wrote most of the Works pieces for the first few months as well. I thought the fact that Bogut took at least a limited amount of time to read pieces from Fanhouse and other blogs was a really cool sign of a player starting to interface with new media, not something we should mock him for. I also thought it was pretty ridiculous that we were expecting Bogut to not only read Fanhouse work, but also understand exactly how to sift out who wrote what. And then proceed to respond intelligently and coherently to people essentially calling him an ignorant racist in a public forum. Was calling for Shoals to kiss his ass a ridiculous overreaction on Bogut's part, even if it was actually a good-natured joke? Sure. But as Bogut is a player who reads blogs and interacts with more writers and bloggers than virtually any other player in the league, wasn't some reaction to be expected? And furthermore, the main point Bogut was making on twitter after the offending tweet was that if writers can come from nowhere criticizing a player for a random political opinion or a spur-of-the-moment tweet, what's so wrong and depraved about a player responding in kind on the offending medium?

In the ensuing havoc (which has resulted in many NBA bloggers continuing to throw barbs Bogut's way and reference the kerfuffle whenever Bogut says anything challenging), not enough was made about the fact that Bogut actually had a pretty good point. There's nothing notably wrong about a player personally criticizing something that a writer puts up in a public forum with a large audience about the player in question, especially if they feel the statement was phrased in a way that was inaccurately skewing the player's views or simply out of line. Could he have been the bigger man and approached it in a non-Bayless way instead of sniping? True. Could Ziller have been a bit less inflammatory in how he wrote about the original problem? Also true. For the most part, the NBA network of blogs went crazy with mockery of Bogut and support for Ziller and Shoals. I don't disagree with the point they made in the original Fanhouse article, and actually would go farther in saying the ad was in poorer taste than they stated. But I'm really not sure why the blowback resulted in everyone missing Bogut's point entirely. Players are well within their rights to read what we write about them and respond to it directly. And even if they get the writer wrong, or miss the point a bit, it's not all that difficult to turn a few insults of a back-and-forth into a substantive discussion rather than the petty sniping that this particular interaction turned into. I could be wrong -- after all, Bogut is a staunch conservative, and the majority of writers find his varied political views odious and distasteful enough that it's not hard to argue a case where no substantive political discussion is possible between ol' Bogey and the commentariat. And Bogut himself is a bit of a joker, and sometimes appears to be inflammatory just for the sake of it. But am I wrong in wishing a substantive dialogue could've resulted from the conflict, instead of the widespread mockery and the meta-jokes on meta-jokes?

• • •

At the end of each post, I'll be scribing riddles for the next group. Whoever gets the most right will get a shout out at the end of the next post. Tweet me your answers at @docrostov, or post them in the comments. Apparently most of our readers are bad at assessing how attractive my sources find NBA players, as nobody got either of yesterday's first two riddles. At least a few people know that Bogut is funny.

Enjoy your weekend, as well as the Olympics opening ceremony. See you on Monday.

Continue reading

As our summer mainstay, Aaron's writing a 370-part series discussing almost every notable player who was -- as of last season -- getting minutes in the NBA. Intent is to get you talking, thinking, and appreciating the myriad of wonderful folks who play in our favorite sports league. Today's first trio: Gustavo Ayon, Dwyane Wade, and Terrence Williams.

• • •

Follow Gustavo Ayon on Twitter at @AyonGustavo.
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There's a certain breed of question often asked of those who work in statistics. The classic "gotcha" question, intended to catch the answering party in the act of committing their profession's cardinal sin. That sin in question has to do with confirmation bias -- the question's form is nebulous, but generally asks the party to statistically quantify something subjective they've had experience with. How good is a sports star they've loved for years? What are the the chances of your favorite politician winning the election? How good is your poker tell? The thought tends to go that no matter how the statistician answers, the answer is necessarily biased in their assessment of the question's object. Even if they try to weasel out by mentally trying to overcompensate, the bias is still there. In effect, the question "proves" that the existence of rampant confirmation bias dramatically undermines objectivity in even the most ancillary of cases.

It's a smart question, all things considered. I actually asked a derivation of it at a cocktail party for new statistics majors back before I graduated, when a young major got a bit too cute with assertions of objectivity. Less than proving some insightful universal truth about the existential uselessness of the discipline statistics in general, I take the position it simply reinforces the necessity of full disclosure. If you're personally invested in something you're trying to analyze, you need to tell your audience that and ensure they understand it. That's all. The important thing is to stay humble and self-aware of the necessary gaps in your knowledge and expertise, and this self-awareness extends as well to minor things -- if your first personal experience with a particular person or object was overwhelmingly positive, you should be ready to disclose that such an experience colors your analysis a tad. It's important to keep an audience in the loop, and important for statistical analysts to understand this wrinkle to their work. Virtually everyone in the profession does, too -- it's simply a hassle for most statisticians to reiterate it on a regular basis.

This has to do with Gustavo Ayon because I really do like Ayon a lot, even though I've got a sneaking suspicion it's mostly rooted in the first game I distinctly became aware of his presence as a player -- an incredible bout against Cleveland where Ayon put up 9-17-4-2-1 in a close Hornets victory over the Cavaliers on February 22nd last year. I'd watched him in games prior to that one, but never really focused on him. And I'll readily admit that may color my analysis. In most of the games afterwards, I'd watch Ayon and wonder why in the world the Hornets weren't giving him more leeway -- Monty was quick to pull him from games when he was having trouble, and while I perhaps didn't notice those early season games that contributed to that attitude, I don't think the Hornets made quite the right move by not getting a better sense of what they had with Ayon after he proved he was an NBA rotation player or more. On the other hand, it's not like Ayon's minutes totals were awful -- he played the 18th most minutes of any 2012 rookie despite going undrafted! So the sense that Monty was quick to pull him -- while possibly true -- also seems like something I could be overstating. Regardless. Ayon is a lot older than you'd think for an incoming sophomore. He will turn 28 late next season, and should be in his physical prime in a year or so. Which is an issue when trying to figure out what kind of a contract Ayon really "deserves." He has two years on a $1.5 million team option with Orlando. Those will take him to around 29 years old when he finally gets on the market for his first "big" contract.

So how big will it be? I think the floor for Ayon is a 3-year $15 million deal like the one Robin Lopez got. If he continues the play he's shown so far, though, and grows his game a bit? Could be looking at 4-year $40 million or 4-year $50 million. He's really very good -- an extremely low-usage big who converts at the rim as well as anyone. His passing was exquisite -- only four centers registered a higher assist rate than Ayon, and only two of those four played regular minutes (those two being Boris Diaw and Nick Collison). His defense is actually remarkably good, and was one of the keys to Monty Williams' surprisingly good defense last year. He's a very "Anderson Varejao" type defender, with exquisite footwork and excellent timing. He doesn't put a premium on drawing charges, but he does put a premium on a strong contest that doesn't get him out of position. Combine that with his solid offense and only-slightly-subpar rebounding? You have an excellent roleplayer that could (possibly) get a bit better as he gets better conditioned for NBA basketball and goes through a full training camp. Not to mention the biggest change -- Ayon didn't know more than a few sentences of English when he first arrived at training camp. As he learns more of the language and gets more comfortable, his opportunities to succeed in the NBA should expand. I like Ayon, though again -- the first time I truly saw him, he was dominating the Kyrie Irving Cavaliers. Maybe I'm a little biased. But I like him a lot.

• • •

Follow Dwyane Wade on Twitter at @DwyaneWade.

Sometimes, certain players go extremely long. I'm making it a point to explicitly allow the leeway to produce a really long capsule, but I'm trying to also use them as an opportunity to spread word of the project to new readers. To that extent, I'm going to take these super-long post-sized capsules and spread them to different institutions we're partnering with. Today, Dwyane Wade's capsule goes up at a blog helmed by one of Dwyane Wade's biggest fans -- Hardwood Paroxysm, of course! In it I discuss the broader story of Wade's career, examining the evolution of a narrative began by FreeDarko's Dr. Lawyer IndianChief way back in 2006 and culminating in a lesson re-learned about the game. Take a look, it's in a book? (Warning: isn't actually in a book.)

The Wade/Shaq Heat wasn't a team that shocked and awed, it was simply a good team doing the things a good team does, and most importantly, living up to expectations. And that's the key. Even a dynasty like the Spurs involved some level of exceeding expectations -- the surfiet of titles was never quite expected for a motley crew of Duncan/Parker/Ginobili, especially not in a Western Conference featuring teams like the Nowitzki Mavericks, the Kobe Lakers, or the Nash Suns. There was never much thought that the Spurs had put together two of the greatest players at their positions of their generations, never quite the overwhelming media hype for Duncan and his brood that Wade/Shaq's pairing attracted. For Wade, he paired a repertoire of next-level Jordan moves with the then-formidable husk that was once Shaquille O'Neal -- one of the greatest big men ever. The question was never "can they win a title", the question was when. And when they fulfilled dismal destiny and seemed to relinquish Dirk of what seemed to be his grandest shot, there was some element of yawn-worthy precognition attached to it. Because like it or not, we saw it coming.

FOR MORE ON DWYANE WADE, SEE TODAY'S PLAYER CAPSULE + ON HARDWOOD PAROXYSM.

• • •

Follow Terrence Williams on Twitter at @TheRealTWill.

Okay, for the sake of schadenfreude, I'll say it outright. I thought Williams was going to be an awesome NBA player. I was fully invested in the Bill Simmons logic that Williams was one of the best full-package prospects back in 2009, and as a result, I really felt like he had a chance to be something. I watched a decent amount of Williams in college, and I saw all the positives -- the passing, the defense, the rebounds -- and none of the glaring negatives. Among those, I somehow managed to ignore his inability to shoot, inability to finish consistently on any non-dunk at-rim play, inability to draw fouls, and inability to control the ball. Most of these negatives were pretty obvious straight out of college, but the thought went that with the right organization Williams would get his head straight, find a great shooting coach, and iron out the problems in his shot. Then he'd learn how to finish, start throwing himself more effectively into defenders, and work on his dribble. After all, those are all things an NBA player can improve if they set their minds to it. Right?

Well, I suppose it's possible. It's not like he's old, yet -- Williams turned 25 just 29 days ago, and it's true that he's yet to really arrive at a coaching staff well-suited to help him mold his game. He needs a good shooting coach, and the shooting coaches for the Nets, Rockets, and Kings don't come with any particular repute. He's never really had a fantastic environment to cut his teeth on. But it's also true that Williams has his own issues putting a damper on his efforts to become a solid, star-type player in the league. Avery Johnson isn't the easiest guy to get along with, but incurring his wrath via suspensions and fines for constant team-harming tardiness is a bit much. And listening to interviews his rookie and sophomore year, you got the sense that Williams had an opinion of himself based nowhere in reality. He compared his game to that of LeBron James, slyly managed to ignore questions about his mental fitness by completely changing the subject before the reporter could notice, and often would completely contradict himself. He's a funny guy, but a bit of a headcase, to put it lightly.

Still, there is the sense that if Keith Smart can help Williams get his act together, he can be an NBA caliber player. Perhaps even a starter. When he was demoted to the D-League as a punishment for chronic missed buses and late practices, he averaged a triple double of 28-11-11 in three games and played so incredibly well that the Nets were forced to bring him back up. You can't produce numbers like that in the D-League -- opposition be damned -- without playing some seriously excellent, NBA-quality ball. So there's that. There's also his defense, which (while still somewhat burgeoning) is very effective. A lot like Ronnie Brewer -- bulldog, gets into a guy's face, gets into a guy's head. He's very good at it. Which leads to the final takeaway. Williams is a homeless and leprosy-stricken man's Andre Iguodala. Nice guy, great at a few things, fills the box score admirably. Solid on defense, straight-up bad at shooting. He really needs to find a coaching staff he can respect -- I have a feeling that if he could simply grow to love a staff and get ingratiated with the group, Williams would be a very funny and engaging player. Instead, though, he's something of a disappointment for now. Which is sad. Though, perhaps, not as unexpected as I thought it was.

• • •

At the end of each post, I'll be scribing riddles for the next group. Whoever gets the most right will get a shout out at the end of the next post. Tweet me your answers at @docrostov, or post them in the comments. No full 3/3 guesses this time, though reader J warrants respect with a solid 2/3.

Apologies for the lack of an update yesterday -- we're going to end up with only 15 this week unless I choose to post one over the weekend. Sad times. I may try to wedge in 21 next week to put us back on schedule, but we'll see. Regardless, these three will go up later today, probably around 4 or 5 ET. See you then.

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As our summer mainstay, Aaron's writing a 370-part series discussing almost every notable player who was -- as of last season -- getting minutes in the NBA. Intent is to get you talking, thinking, and appreciating the myriad of wonderful folks who play in our favorite sports league. The next three: Jon Leuer, Wesley Johnson, and Linas Kleiza.

• • •

_Follow Jon Leuer on Twitter at @JLeu30._

Jon Leuer is really underrated for what he does. As a rookie, he was better at creatively getting himself open than many NBA superstars are. He started the season extremely hot on spot-up shots, leading to an excellent Pruiti post noting specifically Leuer's shot. In true jinxing form, though, Leuer tailed off spectacularly directly after that article was published, going 0-15 on spot-up shots in the two weeks after Pruiti's post. Before the season was out, Leuer had returned to a steady-state and normal, 50-60% average to end the season. Which is solid. He's a middling rebounder, rebounding reasonably effectively in his time on the court (8 boards per-36) but clearly needing some work on that front to bolster his argument for playing time. All things considered, Leuer generally acquitted himself very well. One huge thing with Leuer, atop that?

He's got a lot of quiet skills -- atop the off-ball movement he excelled in, his ability to set and use screens to help get guys open on the pick-and-pop was spectacular. So too was Leuer's general lack of huge, game-changing weaknesses -- his defense wasn't perfect, mind you, but it was a fair sight better than you normally see from a first-year big man. He suffered a bit from Matt Bonner syndrome, where he looks so goofy you immediately assume he's a minus defender. Thing is, in a lot of situations, he isn't. Take post-up plays, where he forced his man into 33% shooting on 27 shots, to go along with 6 shooting fouls and 6 turnovers. Like Matt Bonner, he's not a fundamentally incredible defender -- but also like Matt Bonner, he doesn't really do any specific thing wrong, which leads you to believe this might not be as fluky a number as it seems. Another Bonner-esque trait Leuer embodies is Bonner's lack of fouls -- Leuer's per-36 foul total was 4 per game, and while that may seem like a lot, it's really not. Especially not for a rookie big man.

He was picked up by Cleveland after Houston inexplicably waived him -- I thought Leuer was the best piece traded in the Dalembert deal. I realize there are a lot of reasons to be somewhat down on his performance, but the kid averaged per-36 numbers of 14-8-2 on 50%+ shooting. That's valuable enough to be a first-big-off-the-bench type on a good team, let alone your 4th rotation big. Quietly, the Cavaliers have put together a very good (and best of all, very high-upside) rotation of big men to play with Kyrie Irving -- Tristan Thompson has quite a bit of work to do to get to an NBA-caliber level, but even looking past him you have one of the five best defensive C/PFs in the league in Anderson Varejao, a promising "stretch five" in Tyler Zeller, and a proven-to-be-better-than-you-think Leuer. (And then there's Samardo, but we won't go there.) One rather amusing thing, too -- most people have no idea how large he is. Leuer is a legitimate 6'10", in shoes standing right where the tallest power forwards do. He needs to put on some muscle (he's only 228 lbs), but going forward, I really like Leuer's potential to make it as a first-off-the-bench big on a contender. You can do a lot worse than a player with no game-changing gaps in his skillset off the bench, on a small rookie-like deal.

• • •

Follow Wesley Johnson on Twitter at @WesJohnson4.

Now this is a tougher question. Answering "what does Jon Leuer do well" is pretty easy, all things considered -- multifaceted skillset, a few big opportunities to get better, but overall a promising player going forward despite being taken at #40. Johnson, though? Lord, this gets harder. We'll start with underwhelming things about Johnson. First, his shooting. In college, Johnson was good for 40% from behind the college three -- this didn't really translate at all to the NBA, shooting a slightly-above-average 34% from three as a rookie. Last year, he went under even that low bar and shot 31% on threes, despite taking a three point attempt every 10 minutes he spent on the court. Despite that, Johnson has trended more and more towards becoming a jump shooting specialist in his short career. Tim Allen at Canius Hoopus wrote an excellent piece examining this trend early last season, and revisiting it now, it's clear that not much changed during the season. He ended the season having shot 87% of his shots on jumpers -- slightly less than he had through 10 games, but still an abysmally high percentage on a head-shakingly low TS% of 43%.

The athleticism of NBA players clearly altered Johnson's ability to shoot a reasonable percentage, with Johnson falling below 40% both seasons he's played so far. His rebounding has been pretty awful, relative to the position-average, and his assist totals have been worse. His assist to turnover ratio has been virtually 1:1 since day one in the league. His defense? Actually relatively decent, to these eyes. One of his few big positives. One of the better individual defenders on the Wolves behind Rubio's excellence, although that's a little like declaring myself the best writer on my team of statisticians at work. True? Sure. But that and 50 cents gets you a bag of Fritos -- the Wolves were an awful defensive team and being the best defender on an awful defensive team isn't always that notable. But in the same way that I highlighted it for Gerald Henderson, I probably should highlight it for Wesley Johnson. He's a decent defender, not a lock-down one, and after Rubio went down he tended to get the toughest assignment Adelman could reasonably put him on.

Overall, though, Johnson looks to me like something of a bust. The worst thing, to me? He went to Syracuse, which continues to make me wonder about their preparation systems. He's one of the many in a long line of Syracuse players that were reaches, taken over a few players conventionally thought of as "better." If you take a look at that list, note that there are (charitably) a grand total of three reasonably good NBA players on that list, for a hit rate of 8.3%. This isn't some undocumented statistical oddity -- Syracuse players have, as a whole, turned out really poorly in the NBA. Cavs fans and commentators alike are quick to viciously rip to shreds anyone who suggests that perhaps -- just maybe -- the Dion Waiters selection wasn't smart from an analytical or a common sense perspective. Wesley Johnson, for me, is the possible worst case scenario for Waiters that most people aren't giving proper credence. People said many of the same things about Johnson as he left school, despite the fact that Johnson had better numbers than Waiters and a stronger overall skillset. Waiters is a better driver, but his finishing is about as bad as Wesley Johnson's was in college, which makes me worry quite a lot. As any Cavs fan is, I'm hoping Waiters turns out to break the trend and make this look silly. But history has not been kind to startling reaches from Syracuse, and I have a sinking feeling the Cavs are going to regret that pick in the future.

• • •

Follow Linas Kleiza on Twitter after gaining access to his security blanket.

Linas Kleiza exists in the same sphere as many of the league's tweener forwards -- he's a bit too lumbering and slow to play the wing, but too thin and short to play the large forward. His rebounding isn't good enough whatsoever to warrant playing him as a full-time big, but his lacking quickness on defense and inability to effectively cover anyone makes it hard to warrant playing him as a wing. Isn't really tenacious enough to match his man on defense, but isn't mobile enough to be a beast in a zone defense. Which leaves him stuck between two worlds. It's a tough place to be, size-wise, as an NBA player -- it puts an artificial ceiling on your defensive potential, and makes it extremely hard to fit you into a coherent NBA offense without a playbook master like George Karl. Guys Kleiza's size tend to just get slotted in as pure small forwards, but with a game more like a shooting guard and size more like a big man, it's hard to argue a good reason to make him a small forward other than the obvious (and flawed) "he's not a four, he's not a two" logic.

In a way, players like Kleiza and Tyrus Thomas and J.J. Hickson (all roughly the same height) embody the flaws of the so-called positional revolution -- theoretically, players with nebulous and hard-to-define positions should still be able to be productive and useful members of the NBA. In practice, though, the flaws in their size that make it hard to define their position usually translate to flaws in their skillset that largely end up making their versatility from a projected matchup advantage vanish. When they're young there's so much hope that they'll redefine the game of basketball, only to come back years later with scads of coaches trying (in vain, usually) to find a role for a player whose skills simply don't fit his body, and who can't adapt to the creative roles his body type makes available to him. The positional revolution isn't simply a two dimensional quadrant system of skillsets and roles, but a three dimensional prism -- a player's adaptability making up the third axis. Kleiza, Thomas, and Hickson have interesting skillsets and could, theoretically, fit quite a few roles. But as a player's ability to adapt to new roles lessens, the ease in which they can occupy these roles and make full use of their talents evaporates. As none of the three are very adaptable, they struggle to be the great players in the NBA their physical gifts would demand.

Still. Kleiza isn't bad, per se -- he's good for 10 points a night, a few boards, some minutes-sopping -- but he's nowhere near as good as he could be if he adapted properly. I think Linas Kleiza's now-relatively-long career can be primarily attributed to the 2009 Western Conference Finals, when he put up eight points and four boards a night on just fifteen (!) minutes per contest and 50-47-77 type shooting. In that Nuggets run, Kleiza was very important to the team, and he gave a lot of options to Coach Karl -- a brilliant coach who's excellent at molding offenses to effectively use the tweener-size players into a coherent, skill-maximizing operation. Another aspect of Kleiza's career that was perhaps even more important was Kleiza's scorching run at the FIBA world championships, where NBA decisionmakers got to see him take the shooting percentages he showed in the 2009 WCF and combine it with heavy minutes and ball domination. It certainly didn't hurt that the average size difference was far more amenable to Kleiza's size -- he can cover FIBA fours in a classical sense, which allowed him to play the large forward for Lithuania. His averages from that excellent run by Lithuania in the 2010 World Championships (putting up 20-7-2 on 52-38-77) is what I think Kleiza could potentially have done in the NBA if he'd been a bit better at adapting his athleticism and style to the NBA's archetypal athlete. Which is a shame, but at least Kleiza's shown what he can do overseas. Players like Thomas and Hickson aren't likely to ever get that opportunity. Sad.

• • •

At the end of each post, I'll be scribing riddles for the next batch. Whoever gets the most right will get a shout out at the end of the next post. Tweet me your answers at @docrostov, or post them in the comments. This time, almost everyone in the comments got two of our three players correct -- I clearly made the Leuer/Johnson riddles too easy, though I was amused at how many people everyone could reasonably use for the 3rd riddle. Walton? Ariza? Jones? All great answers, guys. Anyway. Our next three.

So, yes. Hardwood Paroxysm crosspost tomorrow. Get excited! Again!

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As our summer mainstay, Aaron's writing a 370-part series discussing almost every notable player who was -- as of last season -- getting minutes in the NBA. Intent is to get you talking, thinking, and appreciating the myriad of wonderful folks who play in our favorite sports league. The next three: Jameer Nelson, Monta Ellis, Sasha Pavlovic.

• • •

_Follow Jameer Nelson on Twitter at @jameernelson._

At one point in his career, Jameer Nelson was the key. Do you remember that? Back in 2009, Nelson was an All-Star and easily one of the best at his position in the league -- after Chris Paul, Steve Nash, and Tony Parker, you were hard pressed to find a single point guard that was playing better ball than Jameer. He was putting up hyper efficient numbers -- 50% shooting, 45% from three, 90% from the line -- while chipping in per-36 stats of 20-4-7, which don't sound that amazing until you realize he was doing it on 14 shots a game and a career-low turnover rate. He was running the Orlando offense masterfully, and before he went down, the Magic looked like a substantially stronger team than the one they ended the season with. Unfortunately, Jameer got injured about halfway through the season, and he hasn't been the same since. The real key, and the part where Orlando fans have to wonder what-if? If Jameer Nelson -- in some very close facsimile of that magical 2009 form -- had been able to suit up for the finals, would the Lakers have beaten Orlando?

Before you laugh, look at those numbers. 50-45-90 against the entire league. Imagine that kind of a point guard playing 30-40 minutes per game in the finals against a team that was abysmal at defending point guards all year, as you could plainly see in the 2009 Lakers' rampant disregard for Aaron Brooks and Chauncey Billups. Both of those players -- relatively limited players at that point -- filleted the Laker defense even in their dominant 2009 title run. You can argue that the 2009 Lakers were simply too good, and that's a reasonable statement. I'm of the opinion the 2009 Lakers were one of the best Laker teams of the last 2 or 3 decades, with the exception of a few of the Magic teams and the 2001 squad. But add a dynamic, 2nd or 3rd best-in-the-league point guard to the 2009 Magic and that series goes 6 or 7, at least. Don't just think about what Jameer could do, but what his replacement (Rafer Alston, who is as of this moment completely out of a job in the NBA) did. Alston produced 11-2-3 numbers in 31 minutes a night, which is pretty bad already, but did that on 38% shooting. Really. Tell me with a straight face that the 2009 Finals don't look like a completely different series with an all-star performing as though he's one of the league's 4 or 5 best point guards. It's difficult, is it not?

This is all rather academic, though. Jameer has fallen off quite a lot since that brilliant flash-in-the-pan 2009 season, and in particular, his 2011 playoffs were really awful. Everyone not-named-Howard fell apart against the Hawks in 2011, but even though Nelson was still the Magic's second best player, his performance was markedly horrible. He put up 13-4-5 in 36 minutes a contest, which sounds "fine" until you realize he put those numbers up on abysmal 37-23-78 shooting numbers, and 14 shots a night. It's the percentages that really get me -- at his best, Nelson is a hyper-efficient shooter. That's his role. His developed shooting is without question the most valuable facet to his game. And in the 2011 playoffs, Nelson simply seemed to forget how to shoot a basketball, in a performance that essentially served as the culmination of an extremely poor several season-stretch as he tried to recover from his injury woes. Coming out of the 2011 playoffs, I told a friend that if the Magic's supporting cast was going to vanish like that, perhaps Dwight really DID need to leave. The main point of yesterday's Jameer riddle (implying that I forgave him this summer for his recent poor play) was to imply that throughout this Dwight drama, Jameer has acted as a great advocate for the city of Orlando and a steady presence in a locker room that unquestionably needed one.

Is he a fantastic player? Nah. Is he good enough to be the second best player on a title contender? If he's playing like he did in 2009, sure -- if not, NO WAY. But his performance in 2011 becomes less of a blight given his stellar defense of the franchise in the wake of Dwight's media collapse, and the way that Jameer has actually acted as a team captain and interacted with Magic fans in the wake of Dwight's collapse. It's fair to say most people would've wiped their hands of it and sided with their old friend if they were in Jameer's situation. But Jameer didn't, he defended the fans and franchise from the absurd requests of their former idol, and I think that's quite respectable. I don't know if Jameer will ever be a very good player again -- he's getting up there, a bit, and there have been no signs of returning to his all-star form. That might be over. But even if he's gone as a player, his acting as a true captain in the wake of the drama deserves some dap. So good on you, Jameer Nelson.

• • •

Follow Monta Ellis on Twitter for the Instagrams, if he ever gets one.

Monta Ellis is one of those players who's better than you think. Unless you're a fan of Monta Ellis, in which case he's probably worse than you think. Sound funny? It is. That's the inconsistency with Ellis -- his game is somewhat controversial and most people love him or hate him, and in so doing they either underrate or overrate his game by several levels. So let's go over a few things that Ellis isn't, as a player. Ellis isn't a good defender. Absolutely a poor player on the defensive end, and I don't know what he could do to really allay that at this point. I'm not a fan of the "he is what he is" argument for players that are just now entering their prime, but on defense, that seems to be the pickle with Ellis. Simply never put in the effort, and at this point, expecting him to even improve to league average is pushing it. Ellis isn't quite as much of a ballhog as you think. Really. People have an erroneous vision of Ellis where he's a mindless chucker, using far too many possessions every season and refusing to pass the ball. It's not that Ellis actively refuses to pass the ball -- he doesn't, and while his usage is high it isn't quite as high as most people assume. Generally sticks in the high 20s, which isn't wonderful, but isn't anywhere near the horror-show most people think. Only once has he cracked the top 10 for usage percent -- 2010, when he was 6th. He's never quite lived up to his reputation as an incredibly egregious shot-vortex -- he's certainly a bit of a vortex, but nowhere near the sort that most people take him to be.

Here are a few things that actually do describe Ellis. He's actually a pretty good passer -- he's not a point guard despite his point guard size, but he's among the leaders at the off-guard at generating assists per-minute. Though, funny thing -- this only became completely obvious after he stopped putting up 40 MPG seasons. He always had gaudy APG totals, but any stathead could've noted that the assist totals were fools gold -- his assist rate was decent, but nothing truly extraordinary until 2012, when it was fringe top-20 -- not among shooting guards, in the entire league. Which is pretty good, especially for someone advertised to be an impossible-to-play-with ball hog. Here's another thing Ellis is: extremely inefficient. This is the main knock on Ellis, and it rings true. He's more inefficient than his backers tend to think -- in the last four years, Ellishasn't surpassed a TS% (field goal percentage adjusted for free throws and the added value of threes) of 54% once. Last season alone, there were 44 guards that reached that number. Including several rookies. That's not good. His turnover percentage isn't supremely high -- about average for his position, though his heavy minutes load makes it seem higher than it is. And one last thing that's a rather underrated fact with Ellis -- he's been relatively good at staying on the court. Despite being played relatively insane minutes by all of his coaches in Golden State, he avoided serious injury in both 2011 and 2012, and in fact, his last serious injury happened in the 2009 season with a sprained ankle sustained riding a moped. There is something to be said for the ability to play ridiculous minutes without breaking, and Ellis definitively has that ability.

As for his fit on this Bucks team? I know most people don't like it, but I think it's a decent fit. Part of the reason Curry and Ellis didn't seem to work well to me was that Ellis was the only one really demanding the ball -- Jennings is brash, and while both of them are a bit undersized for their position, they're both excellent passers who can set up their men with easy shots relatively well when they get it going. It's also worth noting that while Ellis is a very inefficient scorer, the Bucks are horrible at offense. Is it really that bad of a bet to take a lot of inefficient shots taken by roleplayers and give those shots to Monta Ellis? In an ideal world, I'd rather they just have Andrew Bogut -- a healthy Bogut is fantastic, and makes that team (with a more-fully-developed Jennings, Ilyasova, and Mbah a Moute) a fringe playoff team at worst. I don't think that the Ellis experiment in Milwaukee has a ton of upside, as I'm 90% sure this team is never making an Eastern Conference Finals. But it should be more fun than most of the teams that Senator Kohl's been putting on the floor for the last few years, 2010 excepted, and that's worth something in a market where the NBA is virtually on life-support. The second best thing? Ellis is great at media day photos. Add that to Bango the Buck being hilarious, and you have a potentially all-time memorable 2013 media day coming your way. Personally, I can't wait!

• • •

Follow Sasha Pavlovic on Twitter at @pavlovic11. He has less than 100 followers. He needs it.

Sasha Pavlovic happened to come to the Cleveland Cavaliers around the same time LeBron did, and has earned a solid $18.5 million dollars over an NBA career that's seen him not once produce a PER over 12 or a WS/48 above 0.1. He's not a good defender, either. Which makes you wonder the obvious -- what in God's name do NBA decisionmakers really see in this guy? The answer, so far as I understand it? Experience, money, and residual afterglow from being the de facto "starter" on an Eastern Conference Champion. Which is, I'm sure you realize, kind of ridiculous. He's a low usage player who somehow manages to turn the ball over at a stunning frequency, one of the worst rebounders in the NBA at his position, and one of the worst free throw shooters among all rotation players in the league. To me, Sasha Pavlovic is one of the many beneficiaries of the NBA's over-reliance on way-over-the-hill veterans over young blood that could reinvigorate rosters. I mentioned this annoying, aggravating trend in the post about Beno Udrih and I'll probably continue beating the drum until it's dead and gone.

Seriously. Tell me why it's better for the NBA to have Sasha Pavlovic playing 500-600 minutes a year when you could be bringing thirsty kids up from the D-League, or taking a flyer on new guys. There's something to be said for consistency and a player who understands the NBA grind, yes. But there's also something to be said for new blood, and the constant fascination teams have with Pavlovic aggravates me from that level. Off the court, Sasha is notable for having an actual IMDb page (starring in that low-rated 2007 sitcom, "Cleveland Cavaliers in the NBA Finals"). He self-reported his interests as "reading and driving cars", though never stating what books he actually enjoys reading. Which makes me wonder what kind of books he likes. Does he read in his native tongue, or does he read in English? Does he like translations of European authors like Goethe, or does he stick with Serbian literature with authors like Gorski Vijenac and other names I could never, ever say out loud? These questions and more are to be answered on later editions of my new hit sitcom, "Aaron McGuire Bugs NBA Players With Questions Nobody Cares About."

• • •

At the end of each post, I'll be scribing riddles for the next batch. Whoever gets the most right will get a shout out at the end of the next post. Tweet me your answers at @docrostov, or post them in the comments. This time, one commenter got a 2/3 score. Good job to Lester!

Obviously, we're going with once a day with two on Friday this week. Get excited.

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As our summer mainstay, Aaron's writing a 370-part series discussing almost every notable player who was -- as of last season -- getting minutes in the NBA. Intent is to get you talking, thinking, and appreciating the myriad of wonderful folks who play in our favorite sports league. Today's three: Devin Harris, Danny Granger, Ronnie Price.

• • •

Follow Devin Harris on Twitter when his cat runs all over his keyboard and he gets absorbed into the internet.

Let's say you had a time machine. You go back about five years, because why go back farther than wifi? You make an effort to find the Aaron McGuire of the past, a starry-eyed 17-year-old with reasonably-sized (although retrospectively hilarious) physicist dreams and a more-reasonably-sized liking for basketball. Let's say you ask me to spin my opinion of what will happen to Devin Harris, then the 23-year-old point guard of the defending Western Conference champion Dallas Mavericks. That's right, you went back in time just to ask me - a stranger in at least two fundamental ways - about Devin Harris, making you either the biggest Devin Harris fan in the world or someone that completely abuses time travel. Anyway, I'd humor you and proceed to lay out numerous reasons why Harris was on track to be a quality starting point guard whose overall game was pretty solid. His ranged shot was poor but the point guard position was (I would've said) evolving to more of a drive and kick game with targets such as Dirk, Garnett, and Bosh, rangy-shooting big men. After all, the ability to make long shots off the dribble is irrelevant if a team can build your point guard a template with range shooters at every position. The game was primed to upend the post-riarchy, and Devin Harris was set to be a massive beneficiary as soon as he improved his passing. Which he'd definitely do. Right? RIGHT?!

Well, that would've been the thought, had I answered you instead of calling the police and asking them to apprehend you. It's not totally misguided, all things considered -- the point guard position IS clearly evolving, and there have been teams over the last 5-6 years to see incredible offensive success without a shooter from the point guard position. Unfortunately, the game essentially left poor Devin Harris behind -- the point guards that have found success with the no-shooting template tend to be phenomenal in one-on-one situations within 15 feet, melding that seamlessly with pinpoint passing and (usually) coaches who understood how to creatively augment positions around their new realities. Devin Harris struggles from the problem of "not quite" -- he's not quite unguardable at the rim, falling short of a Tony Parker-type elite finisher. He's not quite a good enough range shooter to keep defenses honest when he gets outside the rim -- Harris has conventionally been below league average at everything but directly-at-rim scoring, and although there were hints early in his Dallas tenure that he'd develop a better acumen for passing, he simply never made good on that. His assist to turnover ratio has tended towards a steady-state 2:1, and while his assists have gotten better, he's never quite dealt with his serious ball-control problems. His only supremely notable talent over his career has been his ability to draw free throws -- his singular all-star appearance came in a year where he shot under 30% from three on 3 shots a night, with below average shooting everywhere outside of 9 feet and relatively anemic passing stats. His all-star worthiness was saved by the fact that he drew almost 9 free throws a contest, adding 7 points a game to an otherwise lacking statistical profile.

Which is not to say he completely deserved it, just that he sure as hell wouldn't have if he hadn't drawn more free throws than virtually anyone else in the league. He was 5th in the league at free throws attempted, despite missing a somewhat remarkable 13 games in the season. Just two years after that all-star berth, Harris is now floating around the league somewhat aimlessly. He was one of the tertiary pieces around the main Favors/Kanter-Williams trade back in 2011, and was actually relatively valued by Utah when he first arrived. That gradually faded as they realized Harris is 28 years old and hasn't ever really been a fantastic, world-changing point guard -- the best way to describe him now is as a slightly overpaid version of Ramon Sessions. He can be very, very effective if you put the right players around him and give him room to thrive -- if you don't, he'll be ineffective and leave you wanting. He's currently taken root with the Hawks, and unlike a lot of people, I actually really love this move for the Hawks. I don't know how well he'll fit in a two-point lineup with Teague, but I do know that the two-man game between Horford and Harris will be very solid, just as he played well with Dirk. And we know from his experience in New Jersey that Harris and Anthony Morrow have a unique and effective brand of chemistry between shooter and passer. I feel that Harris and Josh Smith could work really well together as well, and I just have a good feeling about how everything fits with that team. While they lost Joe Johnson, I suspect the upgrade to their backup point spot combined with a full year of Horford should put the Hawks in about the same place they were before -- low seed in the east, but with clean books going forward and a lot of flexibility.

One last thing about Harris. He's a Milwaukee boy, born and bred. Born in Milwaukee, went to school in Madison, and goes home to Wisconsin in the offseason. So, that said? Why the hell has he never played for the Bucks? They never had the chance to draft him, but wouldn't it have made sense to pursue him back in 2008? This just seems like one of those things that hasn't happened yet but clearly should have. I realize it doesn't make perfect basketball sense anymore, as they have Jennings and Monta, but he's the one free agent who actually might assign some pride and advantage to the Bucks. Hammond should probably be proactive and try to get on this before it's too late.

• • •

Follow Danny Granger on Twitter at @dgranger33.

Granger is relatively disappointing to Pacers fans, all things considered, but I'd argue that it's simply not his fault. If there was ever a case of a player's career being absolutely derailed by a terrible coach making terrible decisions, it's Granger's story. Bit of backstory. Danny Granger, although he had a relatively healthy early career, was always dogged by a few injury demons. Some missed games in college, some knee issues, some back problems. He mostly plays through them, but they're there and have been obvious for years. But his coach in the late 2010s -- Jim O'Brien -- was an old-school coach. And by old-school, I mean that he runs his players straight into the ground without apology or regret. Coming into 2010 having missed 15 games the year prior with knee and ankle issues, O'Brien thought it'd be an excellent idea to start the season off playing Granger over 36 minutes a night. Somewhat predictably, injury struck hard and Granger tore his plantar fascia. He's never been consistently dominant since, and that's a damn shame.

Also, make no mistake, dominant is exactly how one would describe Granger's pre-injury game. In 2009, Granger averaged 26-5-3-1-1 in 36 minutes per game, shooting an incredibly efficient 40% from three on seven three pointers a game and almost 90% from behind the line. Those are superstar numbers for a large wing -- the rebounding could use a bit of improvement, but that kind of scoring production is insane. Granger's also an underrated defender -- or at least, he was. He hasn't been an effective stopper since the injury, as he's lost a lot of lift and athleticism. Which isn't to say he's not an effective player. Granger, despite the disappointment Pacers fans have that he hasn't been able to recapture the dominance he gave them a glimpse of, has been pretty solid since his all-star year. The scoring has tailed off a bit, which does put a more critical eye to Granger's somewhat lacking presence as a rebounder. But he's still a somewhat effective defender (if not a shut-down stopper as he used to be) and still one of the most effective three-point shooters in the NBA. Not to mention one of the best free throw shooters. And he has an incredibly low turnover rate for the number of possessions he eats up. No, Danny Granger is not a superstar -- 2009 may have been a true reflection of his just-reached ceiling, but Jim O'Brien did his best at depriving the world of Danny Granger as a superstar. But he's still an effective and valuable player, and trading him away for nothing would be absurd even with that contract.

Off the court, Granger is hilarious and awesome. He's an avid comic book fan and video game buff, with his favorite hero being Batman. Thus, before his wedding, Granger discussed a few things with his fiancee. I'm sure one of them was where the consoles would go, and I'm sure another was where he'd put his comic collection. Those are normal conversations. Significantly less normal was Granger's next question, asking if it'd be alright if Granger used a portion of his rather significant wealth to build a real-life Batcave. Apparently, Danny Granger chose his fiancee well, because she was OK with it and the "Grangercave" in his Albuquerque home has been under construction for the last 4 years. He had to take some features out, including an underground tunnel entrance he drew up that didn't come anywhere close to meeting New Mexico building codes. But, as he's quick to point out, they still have the underground thing going on. He gave a construction update to Sports Illustrated late last year, teasing a few of the features of the cave -- these include a pathway that lights up as you drive down it, a moat, a circular island that turns cars so you never need to back out. He says the decor is based off the Batcave from the Michael Keaton films, and Granger's estimated construction date is quickly approaching -- it's probable that by early next season we'll have a few pictures. Yes, okay. This is a complete waste of money and a ridiculous, overwhelmingly absurd luxury purchase. I'm a very frugal person in general, so I understand and sympathize with that view. _But holy crap, __Danny Granger built a Batcave___. He basically took every comic book fan's childhood dream and turned it into a beautiful reality. Would I build a Batcave if I had Granger's wealth? Probably not, but that's mostly because I lack the chutzpah -- good on Danny for taking a ridiculous, insane dream and making it an even-more-ridiculous reality.

• • •

Follow Ronnie Price on Twitter whensoever he gets one.

I don't know a whole lot about Price. I've always wondered what exactly kept him in the league, all things considered -- he's carved out a relatively consistent role as a backup point guard with limited free-agent interest every year, despite putting up pretty abysmal career shooting numbers. He's never shot above 43% from the field (and only twice in a 7-year career has he shot above 40%) and never shot above 33% from three. That tends to be the mendoza line below which you simply stop taking threes. He's not an extraordinary player either from a per-minute perspective or a raw production perspective, averaging about 4 points, a rebound, and an assist a game in 11 minutes a night over his career. Which translates to per-36 statistics of 11-4-4 -- which isn't really all that incredible, though the rebounding is admittedly very good for a point guard of his height. All of this comes with a high turnover rate, too. And yes, he's NBA-small, clocking in at around 6'2", which makes his rebounding rather impressive but his passing that much more anemic. While his poor NBA shooting would keep him a pretty sub-par NBA player even with better passing numbers, at least his lengthy career would be explicable by his play. As-is, he's a point guard who doesn't pass or score efficiently. Even with his defense -- which is solid -- you start to wonder what exactly makes Price stick in the NBA like he has.

As for personally, I don't have all that much personal experience with Ronnie Price, but what I do know may begin to answer that question. I refer to a 2011 piece from late in the season, where the Salt Lake Tribune did a short profile on him. It's actually a pretty nice read -- Price (whose college degree came in business management) appears to fully understand how fleeting NBA careers can be, and is preparing for his post-NBA career with gusto. He's also, much like Adonal Foyle and Derek Fisher, one of those players whose intelligence can salvage longer careers than you'd perhaps expect. He represented Utah during labor negotiations in the lockout, and has the respect of virtually every coach he's ever played for for his intelligence, defensive intensity, and the chip on his shoulder that comes from going undrafted and having to make his own path. Which I can respect. By all accounts, it appears Price has more or less stayed in the league on the strength of his character and the intangible off-court sense that he's a better person than he is a player. He's a really good defender, don't get me wrong, but a floor general that's been as much of an offensive bust in the NBA as Price rarely can play even limited minutes without hurting his team. Even so, you have to respect a guy whose intelligence and grit have helped him continue salvaging a career that most never thought would come at all. So, respect to Price for keeping a level head and making his own way. In some ways, it's what the NBA is all about.

• • •

At the end of each post, I'll be scribing riddles for the next batch. Whoever gets the most right will get a shout out at the end of the next post. Tweet me your answers at @docrostov, or post them in the comments. This time, one commenter and one twitter friend got a perfect 3/3 score -- Martin from the previous post's comments and @sfelshman on twitter. Go team!

I haven't yet decided if I'll do a repeat of last week's "post-a-day" schedule or go with 6 on M/W/F again. I'll surprise you!

Continue reading

As our summer mainstay, Aaron's writing a 370-part series discussing almost every notable player who was -- as of last season -- getting minutes in the NBA. Intent is to get you talking, thinking, and appreciating the myriad of wonderful folks who play in our favorite sports league. Except for this post. Oh lord. Let's cover Caron Butler, Mike Bibby, and Raja Bell.

• • •

Follow Caron Butler on twitter at @realtuffjuice.

Caron Butler is one of those players who have an interesting story, but who I have a lot of trouble liking in spite of that. I think it's mostly the Cavs/Wizards thing -- I have trouble liking most members of that team other than Gilbert Arenas, and by extension, I'm not Butler's biggest fan. Actually, come to think of it, you probably couldn't produce a player that plays for teams I dislike as frequently and regularly as Caron Butler if you tried -- drafted by the disliked-even-then Heat, traded to the Kobe Lakers, traded to the Cavs rivalry Wizards, traded to the Spurs rivalry Mavericks, then finally stopping at the Los Angeles Clippers to flop and snipe his way into our hearts with quasi-dirty play and long two-point shots. (Mostly kidding. Sort of.) It's kind of a pity, because his overall game is interesting. He's a positive rebounder at his position, a halfway decent passer, a very good three point shooter, and an excellent defender.

Which is all very good to have, obviously. When you nitpick his game, there are only a handful of major flaws. The first -- and this is major -- is that he's extremely bad at drawing contact. While Butler's nickname is "Tuff Juice", that doesn't totally jive with reality -- he does shy away from contact to some extent, and with the notable exception of 2009, Butler has never been all that far above the NBA's starting SG average for free throws per game. He's more of a jump shooter than anything else, which is fine, but somewhat discouraging for a guy who takes a few too many outside jumpers. Not to say three point shots, mind you, but the 16-23 range I was yesterday praising Jenkins for. He was able to serve as a solid pivot point in the long-two in Carlisle's offensive schemes in Dallas due to a two-year hot streak from that range, but he's not naturally a fantastic shooter from that distance, even though his shot selection would make you think so.

His lowered minutes last season depressed his total, but in an average season, Butler shoots 6-7 shots per game from the 16-23 foot range, making an average of around 42% of them. That's easily a league-crushing number taken while shooting well below average, and it's sort of inexcusable -- Butler is one of the most effective at-rim scorers in the league, and when he steps back, he's a solid and dependable three-point bomber. The other issue -- and this is nothing to fault him for, but must be said -- is his health. Butler has never in his 10-year career played a full 82 game season. This leads to him being somewhat overrated. His game is multifaceted, and in many ways, excellent. He can be a starter on a contending team. But the idea that Butler is actually going to be there for the entire long haul is somewhat misguided, because that simply doesn't happen. That said, his injury history isn't his fault per se. It's just some bad luck.

Butler's life had quite a lot of that -- Butler grew up in an extremely tough neighborhood, and was actually dealing drugs at the age of 11. He was arrested -- by his own report -- 15 times by the age of 15 and had something of a come-to-Jesus moment while in solitary confinement in a maximum security prison. He cleaned up his act, ended up at the University of Connecticut under Jim Calhoun, and made it to the NBA. Since then, he's been squeaky-clean since. Even though I don't like him much, you have to have the utmost respect someone who cleans up his act to the extent Butler has. Born into a bad situation, Butler is a wonderful story of a man who didn't accept his fate as a jailed junkie-feeder and turned his talents into a patently solid career. Hell, even has a ring. And if nothing else, he's the best straw-chewer in the NBA. That's gotta be worth something, right? And as a last triumphant note, after working at multiple Burger Kings in his youth, one of Butler's most recent purchases was buying six Burger King franchises across the U.S. in an attempt to make sure he doesn't simply stop earning money when he leaves the NBA. Butler's a smart guy, and nothing if not a poster boy for overcoming adversity.

• • •

Follow Mike Bibby on twitter and I'll ban your IP.

I get all the anger management stuff. Obviously don't keep it inside, but really examine your prejudices before you just outright yell about hating someone. But this one isn't one that I can even pretend to be positive about. Because I hate Mike Bibby. Okay? I seriously, earnestly, unbelievably hate him. The weird thing is I've never totally figured out why. I hated him since well before I started watching The Basketball Jones, too -- when I realized that Skeets hated him too (and make no mistake, Skeets hates him), I realized that the visceral feeling of distaste and irritation I got when watching him play basketball wasn't something I felt in isolation. The funniest part about it is that I should probably like him -- he actually went to a high school in my old school district, and not a school my high school considered a rival. He basically grew up in a similar area to me, and we might've actually shared a few teachers -- I know there's been some movement between Shadow Mountain and Horizon over the years. Normally that would be a cool connection worthy of respect and interest.

But... I mean... Christ almighty, people, it's Mike Bibby! This is the guy who has more poorly thought out tattoos per square inch than every non-recovering-heroin-addict in the NBA. It's the guy who actively tried to get taken lower in the draft because he didn't want to have to live in Vancouver (a wonderful, wonderful city). His game is pretty lazy -- lazy defense, lazy offense, lazy conditioning. Bibby is the "proud" owner of one of the lowest playoff PERs in the history of the league, clocking in with an inconceivable PER of 3.6 in the 2011 playoffs. Seriously, one of the lowest. Ever. Virtually all his tattoos are unbelievably awful -- from the tattoo of a poorly drawn basketball on his leg to the tattooed "WWJD" bracelet on his wrist, his tattoos are basically hand picked to make him look like an idiot. No organization, no grand theme, just a lot of random crap he had emblazoned on his body for a variety of disconnected reasons. And this is coming from someone who actually likes ink a lot, as long as it's well thought out. Lordy. I realize this all seems a little arbitrary. You know what I say to that?

DAMN RIGHT IT IS! I don't really have any fantastic, world-changing reasons to hate Mike Bibby. I don't like how he looks, I don't like how he plays, and I don't think he is (or realistically ever has been) a particularly great basketball player. Overrated, underrated, I don't really care. I detest watching Bibby play basketball, and if a team I enjoy ever picked him up, I'd probably sob for days on end. I was honestly hoping that my random number generator would conveniently misplace Bibby and leave him out, so that my semi-incoherent and admittedly arbitrary hatred for Mike Bibby would be forever hidden to close friends and colleagues. But alas, it was not to be. Random numbers let me down again, and now everyone reading knows who my least favorite player of all-time is. Congratulations, I suppose.

• • •

Follow Raja Bell on twitter secondhand by following Jazz fans and watching them flip out.

A few interesting tidbits about Raja Bell. He was born in the Virgin Islands, which makes him the 2nd best player from the Virgin Islands in the history of the NBA. (Out of... three.) He was never drafted, and actually never played for the team that initially "drafted" him by signing him after the draft, the San Antonio Spurs. He practiced with them for a while, got waived, and was signed to an actual fully guaranteed contract by the Philadelphia 76ers early in the 2000s. He steadily improved, eventually becoming a far more useful player. Back in his heyday, he was one of the more impressive roleplayers in the league -- a solid perimeter defender, a decent three point bomber, and one of the NBA's best at simply never turning the ball over. So, basically, a poor man's Bruce Bowen. (Or a Sarver-man's Bruce Bowen, more like.) At his peak... which was a good four or five years ago, unfortunately. Bell hasn't been at peak shape (or anywhere close) in years.

Unfortunately for the teams that sign him, this hasn't at all deterred him from demanding heavy minutes and making unholy hell rain down from the heavens when he doesn't get his way. See this lovely story, where our hero quite literally exploded in a vicious tirade against Coach Tyrone Corbin for not bringing Bell back early from injury and playing him over Utah's young guns in the playoffs. I got on Corbin's back earlier today for not playing Alec Burks (happy birthday, Alec!) over Raja. Want yet another reason why? In 2011, he put up the least efficient heavy-minutes season in the history of the Utah Jazz. No, not "among the" least efficient -- the single least efficient season. Mark Eaton, eat your heart out. This isn't to say Raja is a terrible person. I don't know much about him at all, and honestly have no idea. He seems like kind of a jerk from all the interactions he's had that have been publicized (such as leaving the Jazz at the alter to go to the Suns, openly chewing out coaches an teammates alike, etc) but it's possible he's a really nice guy when you get beneath the shell.

... maybe not, though. Guy really does seem like sort of a jerk. Go figure.

• • •

At the end of each post, I'll be scribing riddles for the next batch. Whoever gets the most right will get a shout out at the end of the next post. Tweet me your answers at @docrostov, or post them in the comments. This time, two of our commenters on the previous post got 1/3. Nobody got any more, though, which was sad.

See you next week. Don't forget your towel.

Continue reading

As our summer mainstay, Aaron's writing a 370-part series discussing almost every notable player who was -- as of last season -- getting minutes in the NBA. Intent is to get you talking, thinking, and appreciating the myriad of wonderful folks who play in our favorite sports league. This morning's three: Omri Casspi, Alec Burks, and Trey Johnson.

• • •

Follow Omri Casspi on twitter at @Casspi18.

When a person transitions from a young child to a young adult, there's a certain amount of soul searching that takes place. Whether it be searching for excuses to never grow up, trying desperately to append meaning to your existence, or simply expanding your dietary habits, there's a certain amount of calibration and mending that occurs as one comes of age. For the most part, there's a common theme -- that of figuring out your identity. As you get older you get more and more comfortable with who you are, and the process of self-searching slows down for a little bit -- only to be replaced with the process of helping others in their search, whether it be your still-growing friends or (someday) your children. A never-ending cycle, for most, and one of the many journeys that defines a person's life. Omri Casspi is different than most, because his guiding identity has been decided for him.

That's one of the cruel facts of being a major star, actually. People begin to conflate your performance in your profession to your identity -- to some extent this is reasonable and fine, but in others it overrides their personality and makes them a subject of mockery and derision. Richard Jefferson is by all accounts an incredibly nice person, but when he and his fiancee decided to break it off, pundits and fans retreated to a ridiculous number of clumsy comparisons to his somewhat disappointing game. It can also work the other way around, when players like Kyle Lowry and Jason Kidd get their transgressions ignored and joked about because we all assume they're better people than that. After all, in the case of Kidd, he was the fourth best player on a title team! And in the case of Lowry, he's a fan-favorite! Thus do we create a dichotomy wherein an athlete has two identities, one public and one private. This tends to be true for public figures, but it happens to something of an extreme for sports stars.

Omri Casspi has avoided that. Mostly because his identity is entirely exogenous to his sport -- like Jimmer Fredette's identity is tied to his Mormonism -- and based in the confines of his religion and origin. Tends to happen when you're the first of your kind, I suppose. Unless you've been living under a rock, you know that Casspi is the very first Israeli-born player to both be drafted in the first round and play minutes in the NBA. This brings with it many positive things (including touching moments like this, where noted activist Ari Ackerman introduced him with a speech reminding himself and the crowd that Casspi isn't simply a hero to kids, but "a hero to many") and many negative things (notably the neo-nazi defacing of a Casspi poster and statue in Sacramento). And indeed, there's something heroic about Casspi, even if his game (which, for brevity's sake: is not very well-developed on an NBA level and may not be long for this league) in no way would indicate that and his quiet personality would tend to indicate otherwise. He is a hero not because he seeks it out but because circumstance simply ended up putting him there. There is no bombast, no element of self-obsession for Casspi. Only humble acceptance of the outsized love and following received for his identity, and quiet but sturdy refutation of those always looking to put him down.

No matter where he goes, there will be insane fans who apply some sort of special shroud when looking at his game, some added judgment for being so fundamentally Jewish and so heroic to a group of people they have inexplicable loathing for. And these people do exist -- I feel like I've met dozens who conflate support with Omri Casspi to support for Israel and her policies, and by extension scream and rant and rave at me and others. "How can you support Israel, and rats like him!" They stomp and yell and complain. Omri Casspi doesn't seem to let this get to him. By all accounts, he looks past it simply by focusing on the support and love he gets from the Jewish community. In this way, Casspi actually IS something of a hero to I and many other Jews -- he demonstrates how to accept love and counteract hate. He shows us how to do that without becoming obsessed with yourself, and remaining humble. That's something of a universal message, but by coming from the homeland and being the strongest practicing Jew in sports, Casspi is able to share it and experience it with his fans and loved ones. And that, more than anything, would be my explanation for his enduring popularity and the happiness felt by many at watching him play and succeed. I'm not going to lie -- he may not be the best player on the Cavaliers, but beyond Kyrie and Andy, he's my favorite. He's humble, honest, and lives his life as I'd live mine. I hold a ton of respect for Casspi, and I am incredibly glad he's in my favorite league.

• • •

Follow Alec Burks on twitter at @AlecBurks10.

Random numbers can be wonderful. They can also, at times, be horrible -- especially when it comes to player #41, who I was reaaally hoping would be somehow misplaced by the randomizer. But in the case of this player they were great to me. You see, on our first day, we actually featured Pau Gasol on his 32nd birthday. I was openly amused about that, and thought it was fantastic -- what were the odds that we'd do a player on his birthday, after all? Very slim -- the order is randomized, and due to the fact we won't be getting full day coverage, the overall expectation would be one or two over the entire 370, tops. Well, we're at two -- Alec Burks turns 21 today. This is where the "follow ___ on twitter" blurb becomes useful -- everyone should take a second to go and wish him a happy birthday. My 21st was mainly a waste -- a very full day at the office (as I was full-time salaried by then), a few slices of pizza, and a single beer. I dearly hope that Burks' birthday turns out better than that.

Anyway. Alec Burks is a player I don't really know how to assess. I don't think it's really his fault, either. Tyrone Corbin has done some good things with the Jazz in general, and has overseen a relatively seamless transition from the end of Sloan's tenure to a new era in Jazz basketball. He's done a passable job turning a very young team into a cohesive unit. But there are a lot of warts to his approach, and Burks is the unfortunate casualty of one of those warts -- a stupefying, incomprehensible focus on playing completely washed up veterans over young and developing players. To some extent, most coaches fall victim to this -- even Gregg Popovich once played Roger Mason Jr. an insane amount of minutes over a rookie, developing George Hill. But in Utah's case, the decision is absolutely inexcusable. Here's a young team working hard to develop cohesion amongst their young core, and here's Corbin essentially telling Burks, Kanter, and (in 2011) Hayward to shut up and play as though they're third rate scrubs.

Really... they're the future of the team, Mr. Corbin. Might want to get them a few minutes. Burks himself is rather nondescript as a player -- he's a lockdown shooter whose freshman season didn't really go all that well, from a shooting perspective. Unfortunately for Burks, if he's not knocking down shots, he isn't very useful. His rebounding is slightly above average for a guard, but his overall command of his handle isn't fantastic, and his passing ability leaves much to be desired. He does control the ball relatively well, though I felt it was primarily because he didn't put the ball on the floor very often -- he averaged a very low turnover percentage relative to league average. Nevertheless, it feels wrong to talk much about Burks' game. He honestly didn't play enough minutes for me to feel comfortable assessing its current state. I have a bad feeling about Burks as an absolutely elite player, but given the overall tendency in the league to start reclassifying players as small forwards or point guards, he may end up one of the better pure SG prospects in the league in a few years. If Corbin can resist playing Mo and Raja double the minutes Burks plays. Just a thought, Ty, if you're listening.

• • •

Follow Trey Johnson on twitter at @MrTreyJ.

I'm kind of sad Johnson came this early, because honestly, I consider his absurd and unreasonably useless gem the greatest trivial NBA-related fact I'm privy to. When people want me to prove I know things about basketball, I have a stock speech prepared where I simply recite this fact. They're ALWAYS in disbelief, and usually they'll check Google. When they come back with confirmation, they end up being confused, surprised, and bemused. In the interest of suspense, I'll start with my tale of his game BEFORE the fact. Johnson is a guard with serious NBA size -- he's 6'5" and 218 lbs of mostly-muscle. He's not an NBA regular, though -- he's played over five times as many games in the D-League as he has in the NBA. This is primarily because of a lack of athleticism. While he has the size and the strength, he lacks some of the quickness and wingspan you need to really contest things on he pro level. He was an electric scorer in high school and college, but his skills simply didn't translate very well to the major leagues. Which is a pity, as he was great in college. He's had a few ten-day contracts and played 169 minutes total in the pros, but as he's pushing 28 it's unlikely he'll see all that many more.

Now the fun part. Johnson's history is interesting. Clinton "Trey" Johnson was born to a baseball family -- his father and brother both played Division 1 NCAA Baseball while they earned their degrees, and as a kid, Johnson loved the game dearly. He actually didn't play basketball sub-professionally in high school until his senior year -- he kept himself only to rec leagues, the YMCA, and pickup basketball up until then. He was a walk-on to the basketball team his freshman year of college, and ended up developing enough that by his senior year Johnson was the leading scorer of the SWAC conference (and yes, I typo'd that as "SWAG" at least twice before getting it right), had changed his name to "Trey" to represent his three point shot, and a good bet to be drafted late in the second round. Unfortunately, he fell apart in scrimmages and ended up going undrafted. He went overseas for a spell, but came back quickly to try his hand at leading the Bakersfield Jam, the Clippers' D-League affiliate. He did well, and as such has gotten a decent number of call-ups in his time, but you do start to wonder what he'll do when the career comes to an end.

"Wait," you say, "Why did he start basketball so late?" Because, dear readers, he wasn't intending on going pro. Johnson's real goal in high school and as a child was to make an MLB team. And sure enough, he was a baseball star throughout high school and an absolutely dazzling pitching prospect after a stunningly good senior season. So good, in fact, that he was drafted straight out of high school by the Kansas City Royals. From there, he went to Alcorn State -- tragedy struck in his first game, however, and he tore two ligaments in his pitching arm. It completely sapped the strength of his go-to fastball and ruined his prospects as a pitcher entirely. THAT'S what led Johnson to switch from baseball to basketball -- necessity, not desire. But in some ways, it's actually a good thing he never got drafted -- Johnson's in the record books as the only player in any sport to play exclusively in a league he wasn't drafted for despite being drafted for another major sports league.

A little convoluted, but basically, he's the only person who was drafted to play another sport but never got to make good on that draft selection, then ended up becoming an undrafted rotation player in another major sports league. He has never played professionally in the sport that drafted him. That's not just rare, to my research, it's absolutely never happened before. Which is insane. Another cool thing about Mr. Trey Johnson? We share a birthday. He was born on August 30th, 1984. I was born on August 30th as well, though the year was significantly later. Still. Big ups to my man Trey Johnson, repping the good ol' late-August birthday. And big ups to Trey Johnson for making his own way and fixing up his life despite being forced to give up his favorite sport because of a freak injury. It's one of those weird, unique, and amazing stories that virtually nobody knows but everyone should. It's hilarious and awesome.

• • •

At the end of each post, I'll be scribing riddles for the next batch. Whoever gets the most right will get a shout out at the end of the next post. Tweet me your answers at @docrostov, or post them in the comments. This time, we actually have zero people who got ANY of them right. Problems! To be fair, Omri Casspi played the most out of any of these players, and even he was barely a 20 MPG guy.

Adios, amigos.

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