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 Brandan Wright, Rodrigue Beaubois, and Boris Diaw.

• • •

_Follow Brandan Wright on Twitter at__ @bwright34.___

Brandan Wright -- he of the oddest spelling of "Brendan" I've read in my life -- is one of the more interesting pieces in the Dallas rotation, simply because we don't exactly know what they're going to get out of him. Even compared to most big men, Wright is money at the rim -- he shot a ridiculous 11% over the at-rim average for NBA bigs, converting on 76% of his at-rim shots. Offensively, he was actually an asset from every area of the court, at least relative to most bigs -- he shot right around average from 3-9 feet (40%), a bit above average from the true midrange (42%), and way above average on his rarely-used long two (55%). Still, with at-rim numbers like that and a usage rating so low, you wonder why he got outside the basket at all. To put it this way -- Tyson Chandler led the league last year with a field goal percentage of 67%, acquired primarily because he was so good at the basket he rarely ventured outside of it. If Wright distributed his shots the same way Chandler distributed his -- that is to say, taking the same share of shots at the rim, from midrange, etc -- Wright would've "shot" 70% on the season. Which would've been the 2nd best FG% season by a player that played 15+ minutes a night in the history of the league. Crazy.

He's actually been doing neat stuff on offense for a few seasons -- the issue has less been his offensive efficiency and more his lack of a true position, relatively poor rebounding, and shaky defense. He doesn't really have the strength to defend centers, which is a problem given that he's too large to effectively defend power forwards. Carlisle is probably the best coach for him to be working under, though -- Carlisle has done an excellent job putting Wright in some of the few defensive schemes he can actually succeed, like a floating zone or a disconnected helper off an offensively shiftless center. Still, even Carlisle can't do this long enough to get Wright big minutes, which emphasizes the problem with Wright. So long as his offense stays at the level he's demonstrated in Dallas, Wright will have amazing per-minute scoring stats and ridiculous field goal percentages. With a slight tweak to his shot chart, he'd be in rarefied air. But he still probably wouldn't be able to play more than 15-20 minutes a night, simply because his defensive skillset is so bare and his tertiary skills are so shaky. Going forward, if he works on strength training and spends some serious time working on his defensive instincts, he could potentially be a nice first-big-off-the-bench -- we'll have to see, though.

This much doubt would be rather strange to read if you were a kid in Tennessee during the mid-aughts. Little known fact: Wright led his high school team to an unprecedented four straight state championships, and was named Tennessee's "Mr. Basketball" an also-unprecedented three years in a row. His one-year stint at Chapel Hill was pretty good, though his defensive issues were beginning to take root. Which is kind of funny -- he's stated in interviews that Kevin Garnett was his favorite player growing up, so you'd think he'd be just a bit more focused on the defensive end. There was never any real doubt that he'd be a halfway decent NBA player once he went pro, though. Unfortunately for him, Golden State sort of botched his development -- what he's done with Dallas so far is in no way surprising if you look solely at his pre-NBA background. To be fair, Golden State was something of a mess when Wright was drafted. But that doesn't really excuse just how poorly the Warriors messed up his trajectory. The fact that the Mavericks managed to snag a player with Wright's talent for such a paucity of money is a reasonably nice coup for Dallas. Although he's hardly a cure-all, I'm looking forward to seeing how he improves under Carlisle going forward.

• • •

_Follow Rodrigue Beaubois and eat a baguette, huh huh huh.__

---

Hey, look! It's Roddy Buckets! While Beaubois has been a pretty big disappointment for most who expected a series of quantum leaps after an impressive rookie year, he's not terrible. He looked solid his rookie year, especially in the playoffs -- I think I speak for most Spurs fans when I say that Beaubois terrified us a bit in the 2010 first round series. The Spurs won, but not without a few big scares and Carlisle keeping Beaubois (essentially) leashed to the bench. When Beaubois played in that series, he played extremely well. And he changed the composition of the Dallas offense just enough to confuse the Spurs defense and put them on their heels. Really interesting stuff. The thought was that coming off that performance, Beaubois would take a step forward by improving his shot and improving his skills as a distributor. Instead, he suffered a series of annoying lingering injuries and never really got all that much better. The spark-plug that could've helped the Mavs upset the Spurs in 2010 turned into a "DNP-Ever" during the Mavericks' title run, benched due to a pesky sprained ankle he suffered right before the playoff run. He's still in about the same place as he was when he was a rookie. Some promising aspects, some caution-inspiring ones, and a general sense that he's not quite as good as we all had hoped. Which isn't to say he's chopped liver or anything. Just not quite there yet.

While he's not an incredibly efficient player, posting below-average shooting percentages at all but one range (the 3-9 foot range, where he's got a nice little floater and a good pull-up on a dime), he's not egregiously bad from any range but the three. Just really average. He's a very good rebounder for a guard, which is a non-inconsequential skill. His assist totals are somewhat paltry, but also a bit misleading -- he gets a lot more value out of his assists than a lot of other players (in terms of setting up easy shots rather than difficult ones), and last year, the Dallas offense did look better with Beaubois on the court. About 3 points per 100 possessions better, to be exact. Not all of that is Beaubois, certainly, but he isn't offensively useless. He takes a few too many shots and really needs to fix up his three-ball, but he's not completely shiftless. Defensively, he's a decent shot blocker who doesn't really have much else in his arsenal. He isn't good at getting under his man on defense, and he doesn't really have a great set of instincts as to when he really has the room to try for a steal. He's blazing quick on offense, but perhaps a step slow on defense -- really embodies that odd disconnect in the playing styles on different ends of the court for really fast players. Lightning-fast on offense, but consistently several steps slow on defense. Never quite understood how that works, but if you want to watch a player who has that problem, Roddy's a good one to watch. He has good shot blocking instincts, but until he tamps down the stupid steal attempts, his defense is going to be a problem.

Next year should be an interesting one, for Beaubois. The hype he used to have is all-but-gone, which could have a wide range of impacts. He could be disdainful of his new and lesser status and play even worse than he has been (a la Rudy Fernandez). He could use it as motivation and put up one of his better years and rebuild the derailed hype-train (a la Dorell Wright). He could be blissfully unaware that there ever was a hype-train and the stakes (that is, his career essentially being on the line) may simply be unknown to him (a la JaVale McGee, forever and always). Beaubois should be healthy for more of the year than he's been since his rookie contest. Theoretically. He's shown signs of occasional competence in recent years -- if he can start producing that with consistency, he'll make quite a bit of NBA money and help the Mavericks out quite a bit as well. With Delonte West experiencing his current round of trouble, it's possible more time will open up for Beaubois than he's ever had before. He's the prototypical two-guard in a one's body, but I have a feeling he won't acquaint himself all that badly if he gets cast to be the Mavericks' pace-changing ball-hogging backup point guard off the bench. Maybe it's just the long-faded echos of 2010 tugging at my mind, though. I did fear Beaubois in that series, and perhaps more often than we'd like to admit, fear and faith go hand in hand. We'll see.

• • •

Follow Boris Diaw and eat the whole bakery, huh huh huh.

I spent almost 15 minutes trying to track down the tweets... but I couldn't, so you're just going to have to believe me. Early in the 2012 season, I was watching Boris Diaw hilariously closely. My reason? Through three games (yes, it was VERY early, shush), Boris Diaw's season average was 11-11-8. He had done this despite, in those three games, putting up just a single double-double and no triple doubles. He had carved out an average -- in a hilariously small sample size, mind you -- that was just two assists per game from a triple double... despite never actually having had a triple double in the season! He was averaging a double double having only had a single one on the year in three games! So, me... I was watching Boris' averages very closely. I think I called it #BorisDiawOscarWatch or something. Because, well, think about it. Wouldn't it be the single most hilarious accomplishment in NBA history if a player like Boris Diaw was the second player EVER to average a triple double -- and to do it without ever actually fielding one in a single game? We spend so long frittering about arbitrary accomplishments and whether players like LeBron can do it -- if a player like Diaw had managed it, I feel like the whole conversation changes in a better way. Less about arbitrary guidelines, more about what's really valuable. Of course, then Diaw averaged 8-5-4 in his next 15 games and totally ruined my dreams.

"Thanks, Boris."

It's funny, though. When Diaw was unceremoniously cut from the Bobcats, my thinking was less on my early-season Diaw fever (I watched the first 10 games of the 2012 Bobcats season in their entirety! I CAUGHT THE FEVER!) and more on how he actually rates out as a player. A more multifaceted story, to be sure. When Diaw is in a limited role on a good team, he's a very decent player -- when he feels the need to act as a superstar and dominate the ball on a bad team, he's hilariously awful. The Boris Diaw who started over half the season for one of the worst teams in the history of the league had only a few traits in common with the Boris Diaw who ended the year as a key cog in the conference finalist Spurs. He shot the ball FAR too much despite being out of shape and lazy with his shots. He focused on the accumulation of individual stats at the expense of actually helping the team, quite often. And he was incomprehensibly out of shape. These are the three big problems that made his Charlotte tenure so incredibly bad that the team seriously felt the need to waive him.

But what's Diaw like when he's active, keyed in, and engaged? Very, very good. He's a great passer -- almost too willingly, sometimes -- and he quickly develops a solid within-post passing relationship with every good big man he plays with. In the Spurs' motion offense, his passing provides a beautiful added wrinkle. His rebounding has always been solid, and when he tamps down on the sheer volume of shots he takes, he gets markedly more efficient. What's more, when he's put within a decent defensive scheme and given strict guidelines of what he should be doing on defense, he actually does a reasonably good job -- he's a widebody defender for sure, but he has a lot of length and his weight makes it extremely hard to move him around. He's no Asik or Fesenko, but his sheer bulk and his long arms make him an excellent one-on-one cover for large and small big men alike, at least when they isolate. This bites back in a big way when he's tasked with defending the pick and roll, as his weight that makes him an asset on post-up play types makes him a problem when defending fluid, active plays like the pick and roll or spot-up recoveries after a blown rotation.

So, what's Boris "Babacar" Diaw got in store for us this year? Who knows, really? If I had to guess, I'd say he plays at a level somewhere in between his crummy Bobcats-inspired uselessness and his insane Spurs-inspired stretch. He's not THAT good, but he's not THAT bad either. He's getting a bit old (especially when you factor in the added age degradation due to his poor conditioning), and I'd expect his skills to continue their gradual falloff next year -- especially his defense, which was always a bit too good to be true in San Antonio. I'd expect slightly less offensive efficiency, slightly less mustard on his passes (he's going to eat it eventually, you know), slightly more head-scratching moments, and slightly lower mobility on the defensive end. Nothing particularly dramatic, just nothing quite as good as he looked last year. By the end of the season, I'd also expect him to be a bit better than he starts the season, if only because Diaw is going to be a bit more in shape once his restaurant's "Boris Diaw Burgers" finally flush out of his system entirely. It's also possible Diaw's presence enacts a somewhat subtle shift in some aspects of the Spurs playbook, as well -- he and Tony Parker are high school teammates and national team friends, and if Pop massages their minutes to keep them on the court together, there could be a few really interesting new plays that you'd only see from players with that kind of a history. Could be interesting. Watch out for that.

Almost done, but I would be quite remiss if I completed the Diaw capsule without linking to a particularly great piece by my friend Angelo Benedetti, Cleveland's leading connoisseur of substandard horror, substandard basketball, and Troll 2 jokes. Mr. Benedetti graced the world with this thought-provoking piece analyzing the special, wonderful, and beautiful underpinnings of Boris Diaw's play. Er. Wait. Not his play, exactly. More accurately, his weight -- as a professional athlete, Boris Diaw burns an insane number of calories a day. In order to continue being incredibly overweight, it takes a minor miracle of consumption and preparation for Diaw to remain in prime Pillsbury shape. In this article, Angelo tackles the tough questions -- how many calories would he need to eat to do this? How many animals is that? How many months would it take for Boris Diaw's calories to equal the energy of a dynamite explosion? Just... just go read it. It answers every question you could've possibly had about Diaw and more you couldn't even think about. Trust me.

(Ed. Note: His twitter handle is actually @theborisdiaw. I couldn't resist the gag.)

• • •

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. Easy peasy. 3/3s today from Adam Koscielak, J, Luke, Chilai, Atori, @JoshsPseudonym, and @MillerNBA. Excelling work, folks.

• Fate can be fickle. Not so long ago, Player #223 was a team's best hope to replace their departed star forward. Now he's a per-minute whiz-kid that's been on the block for a year.

• One of the best defensive players in the league. Intensely smart basketball mind, although he's never played over 27 minutes a night for a reason.

• He only played 135 minutes last year, but he has a cool name and I have a strong feeling he could be a decent last-on-the-bench guy. I could be crazy, though. Hope Player #225 sticks.

I was hoping to get 6 posts done this week, but that seems unlikely. Hopefully I can get ahead of the game this weekend.

• • •

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 Raymond Felton, Antawn Jamison, and Al Harrington.

• • •

Follow Raymond Felton by calling the Butterball Turkey Hotline.

Veteran leadership is a nice buzzword. It's a thing that media-savvy teams say when they need to convince their fanbase they didn't just make a grievous error. "Oh, we know that [X] is more productive than [Y]... we just figured that [Y]'s veteran leadership would raise the tide for everyone around him, thus making the entire team better. [X] will just be focused on his own numbers. [Y] will be unselfish, and defer. It'll work out better for everyone. We didn't need [X] anyway." ... Okay, honestly, until this offseason, I can't remember a time when I've actually heard a team put down a player they hyped up less than two months earlier through the false paradigm of "veteran leadership." I can't really recall any other teams being quite that breathtakingly duplicitous and disrespectful. For the most part, when teams let a player go, it's because of reasonable ignorance of a player's potential or simply getting priced out of the market. Having a good backup in place can push the needle, too. Teams don't tend to try and push a completely false narrative to their fans. There's spin, and there always will be, but it's never completely rooted in falsehood. But you know what? With the Knicks, it basically is. Let's take apart each of the given reasons for the Felton/Lin swap.

• Reasonable ignorance of a player's potential. Well, given that Lin put together one of the hottest streaks of any rookie-level player in the last... er... ever? Don't think this is very fair. You tend to have at least some facsimile of an idea of a player's potential when you create entire ad campaigns based around that player's talent. There are a great wealth of things the Knicks don't know. "How good Jeremy Lin could be" is not one of them.

• Priced out of the market. The New York Knicks are one of the most profitable teams in the NBA. Dolan has gone deep into the luxury tax virtually every year in the last ten. The Knicks getting "priced out of the market" is like Richard Branson saying he's too down-on-his-luck to tip a limo driver. Alas, even if you could make an argument that the "situation has changed"... the Knicks paid Felton/Kidd $24 million dollars. They would have paid Lin $25 million. They quite literally spent the exact same amount of money on their two new acquisitions as they would've on keeping Lin around. It was completely lateral.

• Already had a good backup in place. I'll assume the Knicks knew they could get Felton if they tried hard enough. We'll ignore Kidd, because I already discussed him and most people will admit that he was a completely unnecessary throw-in here. This basically comes down to Felton vs Lin, and how much you value either of them. Lin is the not-quite-as-good-as-he-seemed 25 game wonder. Felton is the terrible-career-numbers guy who is ALSO a 25-game-wonder in New York. So, wait. It was another completely lateral move? Well... snap.

Look. Knicks fans. I'd like to tell you that this is going to be alright. That the Knicks made an error, but it wasn't egregious and it won't affect your bottom line going forward. But you know what? It will. Lin may be in for a rough season this year as he recovers from his meniscus surgery. But had the Knicks taken a bit more of an interest in C.J. Watson (who, by the way, is still better than Felton) as a stopgap and accepted the fact that without Shumpert on the floor, the Knicks' ceiling isn't very high to begin with? They could've actually ridden out Lin's downtime due to surgery and waited for Lin -- a young, athletic, improving point guard -- to get back to full form and raise the ceiling of their team. They didn't. They chose instead to go for Felton. Other than the guy whose "veteran leadership" was just utilized in Portland to oust a beloved coach and help the team rationalize giving up on a loving fanbase... who is Felton, really?

Well. Raymond Felton is a point guard who -- over the course of his career -- has always had a relatively decent reputation. He's also a point guard who benefits from exactly the same thing Lin benefits from. The only difference is, with Felton, we actually have the adequate sample size to establish that the hot streak was statistical noise. For 26 games in the 2011 season, Felton played incredibly good ball for the Knicks and posted numbers of 19-4-10 (with 4 turnovers a game) on 45-36-90 shooting. Very solid numbers. However, if you do the same thing a lot of people are now doing and take that hot streak out of his career numbers? Felton averages -- in a sample size of 17,523 minutes and 500 games -- 13 points a night, less than seven assists, and 3 rebounds a game. He averages 3 turnovers a game. He shoots just barely over 40% from the floor, and 32.5% from three. 78% from the line. He isn't doing this in small-game minutes, either -- he averages 35 minutes per game over his outside-the-streak career.

The common refrain I hear is that Felton's hot play with the Knicks is indicative of his "new" career average if he played with the Knicks. That he'll play just as well as he did during his hot streak simply because he loves New York and can't stand those evil small market teams like Portland or Denver or Charlotte. I'd be more inclined to consider this possibility if we didn't already have evidence that it's full of baloney. Look at his Knicks numbers. After Felton's excellent play in his first 26 games with the team, his numbers in his last 24 games as a Knick fell back to his career averages and he started to... well... kind of suck, again. He went from 19-4-10 to 15-3-9 in almost 39 minutes a night, and his shooting tanked from 45-36-90 to 38-28-83. Felton's play in his last month as a Knick was essentially what he'd look like over the course of his career if he'd played a few more minutes and played his whole career in the D'Antoni-style "EVERYONE'S OPEN!" offense. Almost indistinguishable. Which makes the whole "Felton will be markedly better in New York" hype even more befuddling. It's not only as though the Knicks and their fans are applying tunnel vision to Felton's Knick career, it's like they're applying tunnel vision to one specific 25 game sample of Felton's Knick career.

The reason Lin is intriguing to me is that we don't really have a good idea of what his real value is as a player. He's interesting because we don't exactly know how representative his hot streak is of his broader career. With Felton, we know exactly how representative it is -- barely representative at all, and it was arrived at in a different offensive system than the Knicks currently employ. Different coach, different surrounding players, different Amare. Felton is two years older, now and even above his lazy effort, he looked as though he took a step back last year athletically. His formerly decent defense was nowhere to be found, replaced with slow lateral recovery and an inability to stay with anybody. The Blazers played better defense with him on the court, but that was more because Felton shared the vast majority of his minutes with LaMarcus Aldridge rather than a display of Felton's superior defensive chops -- he looked slow, sluggish, and his reaction times were all messed up. He was certainly a bit better defensively than Lin, who was pretty poor this year, but he's also older and any decrease in his athletic potential will markedly decrease the efficacy of his defense. When you're so prone to getting completely out of shape as Felton is, your athleticism is prone to decline earlier. That's just how it is. Fitness matters, and at some point, you can't simply put in a few extra hours at the gym in hopes of returning to athletic glories you frittered away.

All this said? We'll have to see how he does in New York. I could be completely wrong, and he could be the 20-4-10 guy that New Yorkers think he's destined to be. It's possible, definitely, and he has "already done it" in a certain sense, just like Lin. But I just don't see it. I could be eating crow in a few months, as Felton makes the all-star appearance he looked to shakily deserve back in 2011. But, again -- can't see it happening. We'll have to see. Until then, I'll continue to stare befuddled at the Knicks front office, wondering how in God's name they can continue topping their own absurdity.

(Oh, also. Happy birthday, Wes. Hope it rocks. Now stop bashing Lin. Jesus Christ, Marie.)

• • •

Follow Antawn Jamison by naming your son Cortez, the best name possible.

I've spent an overly long amount of time trying to figure out what I think about Antawn Jamison. His existence as a player is quasi-schizophrenic, qualitatively. His off-the-court endeavors are as classy and respectable as a player can get. Absolutely wonderful interview, loves his teammates, works his heart out. If there's any player whose off-court interview style and general demeanor lent itself to overrating the player's game, it's Jamison. Classy as all get-out. Great dude. What makes him qualitatively schizophrenic is that despite all of this high character on a personal level, and despite all the reasons to love his humble demeanor and respectable hobbies? Jamison's on-court play is more frustrating than virtually anyone else in the entire league. It's HORRIBLE. His offense involves rampant chuckery in the oeuvre of a Starbury or an Iverson more than a team-centric concept, and his rebounding (while misleadingly high) has been falling off for years. He's not BAD at this offense, but he puts up too much of it on teams where there are clear better options -- he puts up three after three after three, despite being a barely-above-par three point shooter. He has a poor handle, he barely ever passes, and he is highly prone to responding to slumps by continuing to shoot.

And all of this is decent and reasonable compared to his defense. I won't cut corners -- defensively, Jamison is the worst player in the NBA. He isn't "among the worst" or "in a low class." He is__ the worst.__ He doesn't have the strength to keep his position on post-ups. He doesn't have the mobility to recover on spot-up shooters. Despite his 14 years of experience in the NBA, he still hasn't figured out how to make correct reads or correct help decisions in tense defensive situations. Driving past Jamison is about as difficult as outgaining a turtle in the 100 yard dash. Baskets scored on Antawn Jamison should be counted as a single point to address how easy they are to get. That's how bad he is on defense. It's weird, because I'm not a big fan of slamming players or being a jerk about a player's legacy. In the case of Jamison, though, I can't help but fall into it. Most people don't really understand how bad he is on defense -- I certainly didn't until he came to Cleveland. I viscerally understood that Jamison wasn't very good on that end, but figured that Brown's system and a new location would give him the ability to fix up his defense and figure things out. Nope. The pick and roll specifically was an exercise in brutality -- against the Antawn Jamison Cavaliers, teams could absolutely obliterate the Cavs whenever Jamison was on the court by simply running pick and rolls down Jamison's throat and working the ball through Antawn's man. He refused to commit, make any effort to alter the shot, or show any engagement on defense whatsoever -- which, in turn, made it astonishingly easy for the Boston Celtics to simply run the ball through Kevin Garnett and rely on the Rondo pick and roll, slowly plunging the knife deeper in the heart of the LeBron era as Jamison fiddled with his dribble. It's not strictly Jamison's fault that the 2010 Cavaliers failed. But he was a huge, huge part of it. That cannot be denied.

I don't hate his acquisition for the Lakers, truth be told. I don't love it, but for the veteran's minimum, Jamison is a pretty awesome get. After all, he still scored something like a point every two minutes and converted well at the rim. His floor spacing could potentially be helpful, as well, even if he's essentially no better than a 32-33% "true" three point shooter at this point in his career. Kyrie's pinpoint passing was extremely helpful to Jamison's shooting, in one of those tics people probably didn't notice unless they watched a lot of Cavs games. With Kyrie on the court, Jamison shot 35% from three, and the vast majority of his makes were off assists from Uncle Drew. With Kyrie off, he shot 32%, and (frankly) that's quite a bit closer to what his true talent level is from that range at this stage of his career. The hope is that Steve Nash's passing can keep him above the Mendoza line from three-point-range, and given history, you probably wouldn't be too off-base if you were to predict that. But if Jamison's playing enough minutes for him and Nash to share a bunch, the Lakers might be in trouble -- while Dwight Howard has covered up for a lot of bad defensive players in the past, I don't think any defensive player Dwight's covered for has been nearly as bad as Jamison. Which is less a rousing endorsement of the regularly awful defenders the Magic put next to him and more a statement of utmost honesty regarding Jamison's defense. And if the Lakers actually follow through and play him at the wing, as Brown has suggested they'll do? I hope they'll be alright with opposing wings going off for 25-30 points a night. Jamison isn't active enough to cover creaky, athletically suspect big men. Good luck covering guys like Iggy or LeBron, Antawn. Just... good luck with that.

• • •

_Follow Al Harrington on Twitter at __@cheddahcheese7.___

Not Harrington's biggest fan, by any means, but I can't begrudge what he gave the Nuggets last year. In what was almost certainly his best season as a pro, Harrington finally showed some talent on the defensive end and became adept at (as Hollinger aptly pointed out) "pulling the chair" on larger post players. This refers to the practice of a player feigning strong physical contact in the post, causing the offensive player to overcompensate for it and go strong to the rim -- instead of actually creating the contact, though, the defending player simply steps back into the air and lets the player storm forward, generally tripping them up and inducing a traveling violation. It's one of those defensive moves that's a bit kitschy and not incredibly common, but when you lack a ton of athleticism and have never been able to develop solid defensive instincts, it's an easy move to learn and a way to add a lot of extra defensive value. At least until teams start scouting it and warning their post players. Still, Harrington improved on defense this last season, and that (combined with a possibly-fluky good year offensively) made him a "valuable" enough trade asset that the Orlando Magic preferred Harrington's deadweight contract to that of Jason Richardson.

Offensively, while he was somewhat of a minor asset in 2012, I prefer to think of his offense in the context of his whole career. Knickerblogger's Mike Kurylo once described him with one of the most memorable and effective analogies I've ever heard -- to him, Harrington is essentially cheap beer. As he said: "it's not what you want when things are going well, but when you're desperate to keep the buzz going it's what you'll accept." You don't want Harrington when your team is in a good situation, and everything is going well. You'll sometimes want Harrington when you can't buy a bucket -- you'll also, usually, regret it. The party was over, you didn't really need that few more hours of buzz just to get a worse hangover in the morning. That's Harrington for you. He got you the basket, but he also chucked up 3 or 4 completely unnecessary shots to get it, turned it over once, and froze out two or three completely open shots in pursuit of his points. Harrington tends to shoot a bunch of long jumpers, ostensibly trying to space the floor for his superior driving ability. In practice, this doesn't actually matter much -- defenses long-ago realized that this was exactly what Harrington was trying to do, and responded by shrugging it off and just letting him do it. "Shoot all the long-balls you want, Al. Nobody's falling for this trick again."

Overall, he wasn't a supremely useful player, but at least he was situationally decent. Here's the thing, though -- when a player on this side of 30 has his best season as a pro, chances are EXTREMELY high the player relapses into relative uselessness. So while the Magic were relatively convinced Harrington was a more valuable contract to take back than Richardson's, I have to call foul. His next two years (after this one) are only 50% guaranteed, which is a nice wrinkle if Harrington is god-awful this year (as I kind of expect him to be), but it's going to be pretty hard to find a willing trade partner to offload his contract. Not unless they use Harrington as salary fodder in a Redick trade, or something like that. In the end, he's a below average defender, passer, and rebounder who scores inefficiently. Not great. He's got his value as he's begun to figure out his place in the league in his wizened age, but not a ton -- just a bit too late to put it together, I'm afraid. One fun fact about Al Harrington -- he's responsible for what should probably be the most-remembered quotes of the 2010 offseason, back when he was figuring out which team he'd sign with. I can't find the source, but I promise this happened. Harrington had two big options that offseason -- the Dallas Mavericks or the Denver Nuggets. He chose the Nuggets, and had a press conference where he stated outright that the Nuggets were "far closer" than the Mavericks to an NBA title, and had "way more potential" going forward. He also said, if I remember right, that he was pretty sure the Mavs would have a worse record than the Nuggets for the next 3 or 4 years, at least. Do I even need to say it? The Nuggets were ousted in an inglorious 5 game gentleman's sweep, while the Mavericks went on to win the 2011 title. Al Harrington: prediction wizard.

• • •

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. I should probably make this a bit easier, as J and Peter Stuyvesant of New Amsterdam were the only ones to get any of yesterday's riddles (by both correctly isolating Raymond Felton). Let's see...

• This center hasn't quite shown he has the Wright stuff, yet. But he's getting there. Good prospect.
• On the other hand, this Frenchman hasn't quite shown much. Looked promising to close 2010, but since then? Nothing. This season, he REALLY needs to show us something, or his team may officially give up on him.
• Early in the 2012 season, I declared that we were on-notice for a Player #222 "triple-double-average season." One of my grandest goals was to watch as this player actually managed to average a 10-10-10 triple double despite never actually getting a triple double over the course of the season. This... this didn't happen. It emphatically didn't happen. He got waived. But I wish it had, and next season, I will continue quixotically desiring it.

Those feel "easier" than yesterday's. Let me know, heh.

• • •

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 Will Bynum, Norris Cole, and Glen Davis.

• • •

Follow Will Bynum by throwing up a prayer.

At this point, it's pretty fair to wonder what you're really going to get out of Will Bynum. While most fans still think of him as a young guy, he's no rookie anymore -- he's a 5-year vet who's bordering on 30. Bynum struggled through injuries last year and played barely half his games. More worryingly, he suffered through a series of pesky foot injuries, which had a two-pronged effect. First, it made him a literal nonentity for the 45.5% of his games he missed outright. Second, it made him a virtual nonentity for the 54.5% of the games he could actually play. Everything looked bad for the poor guy. His defense (never world beating) descended to incomprehensibly gross levels, his passing fell off a cliff, and his world-renowned speed took a turn for a scary mortality. While Bynum has been an effective player in the past, without his customary blazing speed, his general skillset goes from a decent asset to a shaky problem in about 5 seconds flat.

Bynum shoots the ball first, second, third and fourth -- with an occasional shot at fifth if nobody else is open. When his speed is on, that's not necessarily a bad thing -- you'd never want him starting, but as a change-of-pace guard off the bench, it's solid. Before this last season, he averaged somewhere around 57% from at-rim plays while getting to the rim on a larger share of his possessions than almost anyone else at his position. Of course, then last season happened. He only finished 52% of his shots at the rim last year, and outside the rim, the picture was even worse -- he didn't even make 25% on his outside-the-rim shots in 2012. That's especially rough given his always-shaky passing game -- his assist rate declined from "a bit below average" to "among the worst in the league", posting an assist rate in the bottom 10% of all point guards. His rebounding was OK, but hardly anything to write home about, and he posted more per possession turnovers than the majority of NBA point guards. As for his defense? Run away. The stats looked bad, but the eye test looked even worse -- watching him on defense was like watching a bad villain in a horror movie. The guy was hiding around every corner, slow to reach his prey, easy to lose in the forest. Really, really rough.

So, will he improve? Not sure. He recently said he spent the summer working on both a series of improvements to his defensive game and a "new dunk." Being as they are fans of the Pistons, most Pistons fans I talked to were excited about his theoretical focus on defense. Me? I'm really not sure how good he can actually get -- undersized players can be excellent defenders (see: Bradley, Avery) but it's extremely rare for a 30-something defensive nonentity to transform himself into a positive defender overnight. I'm just not sure how either of these things help his overall picture. I like how Bynum played before last season's horror show sapped his game, in general -- he played offense fearlessly, set up teammates to a semi-reasonable degree, and seemed to work as hard as anyone else in the league. He dominated the ball a bit much, but his blazing speed and general talents were solid enough that you'd put up with a bit of hogging. If last season was borne of the foot problems alone, he's fine. If it represented a broader trend, like Bynum's age catching up to him and taking away the things that made him good? No amount of new dunks or defensive improvements are going to help him, and he isn't going to get any time.

Simple as that, unfortunately.

• • •

Follow Norris Cole by destroying the college game

In his rookie year, Norris Cole was inconsistent at best and actively harmful at worst. He showed a proclivity for defensive pressure and a whole lot of gusto, but in terms of actual productivity, there wasn't much there. That was a pity for me -- I kind of hoped that he'd tear the league up. Why? Here's the thing. I watched some of Cole in college, because my family's Cleveland roots guide me to root for even the most inconsequential of Cleveland teams. He played for Cleveland State, a minor school whose main claim to fame -- athletically, in our lifetimes -- lies in a first-round upset of a fourth seeded Wake Forest in a year where my roommate picked Wake to make the final four. Not usually on anyone's radar, but emphatically on mine. I watched their games with some frequency, and paid close attention to Cole -- after all, there was hardly anyone else to watch. And you know what? At Cleveland State, Cole was dominant. He wasn't "very good", he wasn't "a decent talent." He was dominant, and he owned the college game in a way few players ever own ANY game.

Don't believe me? Here. Take a look at this. Nope, no typos. On February 12th, 2011, Norris Cole hung the Youngstown State for 41 points. To go with that 41, he added 20 rebounds, 9 assists, 3 steals, and (somehow) only 2 turnovers. It was among the most dominant college basketball performances in years. Absolute video game numbers, ESPECIALLY for a 6'2" guard -- there's a general reason that point guards don't tend to get excellent rebounding numbers. They're short. Even against college kids, Cole's 6'2" is usually too short to corral boards with that kind of efficiency. But he plays hard, and if the opposing team isn't careful, he'll find the seam and get a board you aren't expecting, or play a creative angle in the off-chance the ball takes a strange bounce. He's creative in how he gets his stats, even if the underlying numbers are -- at times -- not that great. That was, at least, what he was like in college. Engaging, ridiculous, awesome. He had this relentless hustle and grit that -- combined with his natural talent -- made me think he was going to be an NBA natural, even if he was a bit undersized. His creativity would carry over, I figured.

Unfortunately for Cole, the reality didn't really fit my expectations -- after a blazing start in the Heat's first few games, Cole proceeded to crash badly. He played great against the Celtics his second night on the floor, putting up an incredibly solid 20-4-4 line in an efficient, effective, and sneaky performance. But then things fell apart -- Cole's shot stopped falling, he passed sloppily, and he turned the ball over almost compulsively from then on out. As teams began to scout him, Cole's play essentially wilted. It wasn't fun. That is, until game 5, where Cole put up an insane line of 8-2-2 -- ... okay, alright, no. It wasn't that insane. Come on. Even I can't pretend that. But it WAS one of Cole's best games of the year, which basically tells you all you need to know about how good his year was after that blazing start. Locked in a human body, Cole embodied the 2011 Cavaliers -- strong start with an unexpected personal win over Boston, vaguely resembled a playoff-caliber player for a month or so, then fell into a deep funk as his production tailed into the ether. A few tinctures of hope to finish the string, but mostly hollow accomplishment after a season of dismal cringing.

Rough times. Hope he can rebound next year.

• • •

_Follow Glen Davis on Twitter at __@iambigbaby11.___

Quietly, Glen Davis posted a pretty solid season last year. It wasn't exactly mindblowing, and there were still a lot of his usual Glen Davis style flaws. ("Glendam Style?" I'll show myself out.) It comes with the territory. But it wasn't THAT bad. His playoff numbers were misleadingly excellent, and if you want a real assessment of what Davis is likely to bring going forward, you need to examine his overall play in the regular season. He played much better in the second half of the season than he did in the first on offense, but he also played SIGNIFICANTLY worse on defense when he was asked to act as a center. Therein lies the big problem with Davis, which this season highlighted explicitly. His game is not well suited for the power forward role, and he's prone to chucking up remarkably bad long two pointers when he's forced to squeeze into that role. His defense, though, works just fine from the power forward position -- his wide body and strong stance make him rather excellent at exploiting how thin and wiry most modern power forwards are, and while his rebounding isn't good, he's better than most people realize at the invisible tap-out and getting his man out of rebounding position with his weight. He throws his weight around well.

As a center, though? You see offensive improvement, as he's forced to play a more around-the-rim game and eschew the longballs that torpedo his efficiency and efficacy. He tends to get better personal rebounds, and his field goal percentage rises as he remembers that he's actually not too bad at playing the at-rim game. But his defense falls off the proverbial cliff, twitching sadly in a broken mess at the bottom of the ravine. He simply can't cover centers. Not a single one. There's no center in the league Glen Davis can effectively shut down -- this is in no way his fault, as he's certainly not tall enough and definitely not athletic enough to be expected to do it. But it's a fact. So, when I hear Orlando fans cite his excellent numbers at center, I have to cry foul -- those offensive numbers ARE a legitimate improvement, and he even rebounds better. But the defensive dropoff is bad enough that I can't really take Davis-as-center seriously as a full-year, big-minute concept. The only way it would really work would be if Davis found himself next to a center prospect like Anthony Davis or an old wolf like Kevin Garnett -- someone who could switch to power forward on offense while cross-matching with Davis on defense without really skipping a beat. But that has its own opportunity cost, in the form of confusion in rotations and a lot of information to keep track of for the players. Might not work very well.

You could probably write a capsule by itself about Davis' off-court adventures. Perhaps you'd start with the Shrek thing, back when he was a Celtic. Last season included several instant classic bits, though -- there was the lighthearted pap with the Tas Melas dance-off, the triumphant return of the prodigal son in a dismal game where the Magic ended up getting the stuffing beaten out of them (and their backs as contenders broken), and the true dramatic tension -- Davis forsaking his closest friends and letting fame wrest away his love for "real New York knish." Noble mensches across the world feel a tug of the heartstrings whenever it's mentioned. I've got the sniffles just thinking about it. Clearly, though, his life is a Shakespearian comedy. He's got himself a solid head start on this year's act by writing his very own in-arena song. While nothing Davis makes will ever reach the storied heights of the Q's beautiful "mogotti.wav", it's pretty catchy and honestly hilarious that an NBA player seriously made music that the arena intends to use whenever he does anything of value. I'm highly impressed. Keep doing you, Glen Davis. Keep doing you. Because you know what they say...

“I just want to make sure I’m Glen Davis wherever I’m at. I think I can be Glen Davis wherever. It just depends on the system, the people around the system, who’s going to let Glen Davis be Glen Davis, not make Glen Davis something they think he should be.’’

(Okay, only Glen Davis actually says that. Still.)

• • •

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. Sorry the site was down for a short time yesterday -- clear your cache if you still intermittently get those domain messages on any of your GG-browsing devices. Yesterday's riddles were arrived at on a 2/3 basis by Mike L., Sir Thursday, Chilai, and Atori.

• According to @CardboardGerald, this player experiences #CardboardGeralding in the offseason by eating copious quantities of shrimp bought from Mr. Cardboard Gerald.
• Torn on Player #218. Seems like an awesome dude, his interviews are nice, really seems cool. But it is UTTERLY IMPOSSIBLE to watch him play for your team and not want to punch yourself in the face. Repeatedly. Forever.
• Until last season, I would've just repeated the last riddle for Player #219. But he was actually pretty good last season, and while it was fluky, at least his contract isn't TOTALLY guaranteed.

Really tired today. Sincerely need a soothing siesta.

• • •

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 a three-pack of Bobcats, current and gone -- Ben Gordon, Jamario Moon, and Kemba Walker.

• • •

_Follow Ben Gordon on Twitter at __@BenGordon8.___

Generally, I don't think marginal gains in the shooting talent employed on the wing add a ton to a team's bottom line. It can help fill in the edges, sure. But most of the time you're talking about the difference between a single 33% three-point shooter and a single 35% three-point shooter, or some such small gain that's hardly going to impact the way the team plays offense. It's one of the reasons the Ben Gordon signing was somewhat unnecessary for the Detroit Pistons in the first place. Gordon has one legitimate use on the floor -- he shoots the lights out. They added Gordon with the intent to upgrade their three point shooting, but the thing is? It wasn't really that bad the season before, at least from the wing. Sure, the Pistons weren't top 10 or anything (24th, actually), but their youngest bomber (Afflalo) shot 40%, Prince and Hamilton were both converting around 36%. They weren't exactly absent three point shooters from the wing, they simply thought Gordon's play and internal improvement from Gordon would dramatically improve their bottom line. Somehow.

They then proceeded to trade Afflalo for virtually nothing and sign Ben Gordon to fill Afflalo's role -- essentially spending gobs and gobs of money on a few percentage points of an upgrade in their wing shooting. The problem with Gordon on the Pistons, in my view, was one of marginal improvement -- in 2010, Gordon suffered several injuries and gave nothing approaching his true value from behind the arc. But in 2011 and 2012, Gordon shot around 40% from behind the arc, and the Pistons were still a relatively awful team. Which is generally my point -- even if things had gone completely right in 2010, a few percentage points of improvement from three wasn't going to dramatically change the overall team structure of 2009 Pistons, they of an inglorious first-round sweep. And when you compound that with the dramatic slide of the Pistons' defensive mindset in the post-Sheed, post-Wallace era? You have exactly what you got in 2011 and 2012. A relatively shiftless and awful team whose three point shooting -- while a tiny bit better than it was in the last few years of the Pistons' dynasty years -- barely moved the needle on the team's effectiveness.

All that said, let's look at the 2012 Bobcats. Here are their top 5 three point shooters (minimum 1 attempt per game):

1. Corey Maggette; 36.4%, 2.1 attempts per game
2. D.J. Augustin; 34.1%, 3.7 attempts per game
3. Reggie Williams; 30.8%, 3.2 attempts per game
4. Kemba Walker; 30.5%, 3.4 attempts per game
5. Eduardo Najera; 27.6%, 2.3 attempts per game

When the 5th best shooter on your team makes under 30% of their threes, you're in BIG trouble. All told, the 2012 Bobcats shot 29.5% from three last season, an abhorrent number that only one other team in the last decade matched. There were two reinforcing issues that resulted from this outside shooting deficiency. First, teams gave virtually no respect to any option plays that Silas ran with the express intent of getting one of their three point shooters open. Teams shaded the post and rotated slowly, knowing full well that getting caught on a cross-match and giving up an open three point shot to Kemba Walker was about as threatening as Boris Diaw threatening to diet. Second, when the three wasn't run on a play and was part of an isolated half-court enterprise, the Bobcats' lack of serious screeners would essentially ensure that the defense would leave defenders home on the Bobcats' three point shooters and make it virtually impossible to get an open three. Which helped feed into the lack of respect that made the first point problematic, which in turn made it easier for teams to justify almost never sending a rotating cover on a three point shooter. Vicious cycle, that.

This is all to say that I think the Bobcats may be a significantly better fit for Gordon than the Pistons. If you simply look at it on the basis of what it gives a team on-the-margin, the Gordon acquisition is one of the few this summer that makes an active, tangible change to how a team operates. With Gordon on the court, the Bobcats will finally have a shooter you can't leave unguarded. The 2012 Bobcats had absolutely none of that. The closest was Maggette, whose career 32% three point shooting (last year's "hot" season included) was hardly scaring anyone. In Gordon, the Bobcats will have a career 40% three point shooter. His game is limited, and he can't really make plays at the rim -- but frankly, simply having the THREAT of a player that can make that many threes will improve the Bobcats' prospects going forward. As long as they relegate Gordon to a spot-up role and don't force him to act outside his true value, he'll be a fine player. And when you're looking at a historically bad three-point shooting team with nobody a team needed to guard? A single player who can strike a bit of beyond-the-arc fear into the hearts of a defense could portend a boost. Not just for their three point shooting in a vacuum, but in the success rates of option plays, in how other three point shooters can get, and in their general offensive coherency. Gordon should help. The Bobcats will be bad, but he's a piece that fits and a serious upgrade in something that actively changes how a team plays offense.

Anyway. Net result? I could be wrong, but I'm rather confident that Gordon will be a useful player this year.

• • •

Follow Jamario Moon by learning crazy dribble tricks.

It kind of pains me to say this, but Jamario Moon was probably the worst player in the NBA this past season. This pains me to say because I've always been a fan of Moon's, even going back to his days in Vietna--... uh, I mean, the 2010 Cavaliers. He's not very good at basketball, mind you, but he's always been entertaining. Moon got his start as an upstart talent out of Mississippi's Meridian Community College, leaving early to declare for the 2001 NBA draft. After teams refused to take a flyer on him, he was signed into the D-League by the Mobile Revelers for two seasons, being drafted in actuality by the D-League's Huntsville Flight in 2004. In-between his D-League stints and his NBA career, he played for teams in the USBL, Mexico, Rome, the CBA, and the WBA. My favorite, though? His short-lived stint with the Harlem Globetrotters back in 2004. Dude's been AROUND. After years of trying, Jamario finally made it to an NBA team after an excellent training camp with the Toronto Raptors in 2007.

Here's the issue, with Super Jamario. Beyond his athleticism, he really doesn't have a ton of active talents. He's a "good" defender relative to many, simply because he has the athleticism to play the NBA game. But his reputation as a defensive stopper has always been vastly overstated. He can cover a player, for a possession or two, but he isn't all that creative and he's pretty bad at getting around screens. As he gets older he's gotten worse and worse at recovering on spot-up shooters, and he doesn't really have any defensive talents other than "possessing the requisite athleticism to do the occasional thing." His only serious offensive skill is his dunking -- he's a solid dunk artist who, at his prime, could go dunk-for-dunk with any of the league's top enthusiasts. Some style, some pizzazz, some vigor. And he did it often. According to 82games.com estimates, on his career, Jamario had roughly one converted dunk for every 6 field goals he took -- given that you shoot (almost by definition) 90%+ on dunks, that combined with his career field goal percentage (46%) should tell you about how well he did at every other type of shot -- not very good at all. Including tip shots, short shots, and all manner of non-dunk close baskets, Jamario shot 37% on non-dunks in his career. Yikes.

Last year, Jamario didn't dunk. Not once. Wondering why he was so bad? Well... there's that. At this point, designating his athleticism as "waning" is flat-out charitable. He's no longer athletic enough to even pretend to be a positive defender, and his handle has collapsed within itself to the point that he's a turnover threat every second he touches the court. This is a massive, massive shame. When he was in his relative prime and still good enough to contribute to an NBA team, he was one of the more fun guys to keep an eye on during garbage time. He'd quite often break out some of the crazy globetrotter dribbles, and go the extra mile on a completely meaningless dunk. He'd do it all with a grin and a goosey, pointing at the crowd and making everything just a tad bit more fun. Showboat? A bit. But it was always fun showboating, and there was a genuine sense that it was born out of his years in the NBA's various minor leagues. This was a man who knew to appreciate his fleeting time in the league before it was gone -- he was a natural entertainer who did his part to make any random Cavs or Raptors game as entertaining as he could muster. While he may be gone now, and he was such a marginal player I doubt many will remember any of this, you shouldn't forget it. Remember the times we had, Jamario. You were awesome.

Anyway. A capsule on Jamario is -- almost by definition -- an entire capsule on trivialities, so I may as well end with a few more. Jamario Moon's middle name is "Raman." Which, given his total career earnings (pre-tax) peter out at a tad bit under $7 million dollars, may nicely reflect his dining choices going forward. Yuk yuk yuk. I'm a jokester. (No, honestly though. Legitimate ramen -- the actual stuff -- is pretty tasty. The haute cuisine of the college-inclined notwithstanding, give me some legitimate ramen any day. That stuff is nice.) Off the court he refurbishes old cars and plays video games. His favorite food is a "cheese biscuit." He really wants to end his career playing with this year's Hawks team for some reason (I bet they have great cheese biscuits), although it looks rather unlikely he makes it. Someday, I hope to meet Jamario. He seems like a really solid dude. Great entertainer, brilliant smile, named Jamario? Simply awesome.

• • •

_Follow Kemba Walker on Twitter at __@KembaWalker.___

I don't think Kemba Walker's rookie year was a failure. Let's start with that. If you were starting with a reasonable expectation for what he'd give an NBA team, I don't see how you can be particularly disappointed in what he gave. Entering the NBA, there were a few things we knew for sure about Walker, if we cared to look. First we knew the ephemeral -- he "knew how to win" since he'd won an NCAA title, he "could play big minutes" since he'd played 5 excellent games in 5 nights to win the big east tournament, and he "had a lot of swag and poise" since... well... he had a lot of swag and poise. All pretty simple observations, but also mostly worthless -- winning an NCAA title has virtually nothing to do with your success in the NBA (just ask Jon Scheyer), trying to assert a player's ability to play big NBA minutes with a 5-game stretch is like predicting a runner's mile time from their 100 yard lap (barely correlated), and merely having swag and poise doesn't tell you a thing about a player's proclivity for NBA dominance. Bad teams have stylish players quite often -- look at Nick Young, Monta Ellis, or Jamal Crawford.

No, these were the things that would lead you to blithely overrate Walker going into the season, and people who tended to focus on these attributes found themselves sorely disappointed in Walker's performance. But when one looked beyond the title-team minutiae, one could glean a few scouting gems from watching Walker play. In my observations, I found the following to be true about Kemba Walker, after the conclusion of the 2011 college basketball season and his declaration to the draft:

• Walker was not a shooter. In college, he shot roughly 33% from behind the three point line. He shot under 43% his final two seasons, and while his usage rate was extremely high, those numbers tended to indicate a player whose shot would never be utterly perfect. Something to work off, perhaps, but more likely a 25-30% three point shooter who needed a few seasons to rebuild his shot from scratch.

• Walker relied on free throws. While Walker was a brilliant scorer his senior year, he wasn't EXACTLY killing teams through excellent isolation plays. That helped, and he was always good at making space for himself, but a huge proportion of Walker's scoring output relied on taking massive amounts of free throws he probably wouldn't be getting immediately at the NBA level, if he ever got them at all. And that in and of itself was going to depress his scoring numbers from his college highs, even if he didn't get worse in the presence of better defenders.

• Walker was not a very good passer. In his senior season, despite taking utter and complete ownership of his Connecticut team, Walker posted a 28% assist percentage. That's honestly pretty bad for a star point guard on one of the best teams in his sport, and looking at the numbers, it does tend to bear that out -- the only star point guard prospects who had a lower assist percentage in their last year of college were Jrue Holiday, Brandon Knight, Jeff Teague, Toney Douglas, and Eric Bledsoe. Not exactly a murderer's row. Some people expected Walker to be an awesome passer right off the bat -- that was an exceedingly unrealistic expectation.

How did these individual traits pan out in one season of NBA action? About as expected, with a few surprises. First, he emphatically WAS NOT a shooter his first year -- although he was in the Bobcats' top five three point shooters, he still shot remarkably poorly, posting below average from every single area of the court and barely hitting 30% on his threes. More impressively, after being an at-rim aficionado in college, the NBA game quickly revealed a fatal flaw in Walker's current approach to at-rim scoring -- as a result of that second factor I noted above, Walker relies so much on the free throws he drew in college that once those vanished his scoring efficiency dropped considerably. He was in the bottom eighth of all point guards in at-rim scoring, actually shooting below 50% at the rim. Rough. Finally -- and the particularly hopeful nugget here -- was his passing. He wasn't phenomenal by any stretch, and he was still well below average in his per-possession passing statistics and his general control of the ball. But he wasn't any worse. He posted an assist percentage of 30%, slightly above his percentage in his senior year of college -- that tends to indicate he's got at least a slightly higher ceiling on that end than he displayed in college, which could be valuable later as he continues adapting to his more tertiary role in the NBA.

Beyond all that, he was predictably awful on defense and shockingly good on the boards -- while the Bobcats weren't really good with anyone on the court, they were slightly better with Walker than without. His priorities need to be rather simple -- if he intends to be a good player in the NBA, he's going to need to get past his yips and go full-hog for contact until referees finally start calling it. At 6'1", one of the few advantages he has is that it's a mite bit easier to draw contact for incidental hits. Beyond getting his free throw attempts back, he needs to work on actually using his separation talents. He's always been great at sliding out to create separation off a solid screen -- now the trouble is actually making the open shot, and fixing his general form to the point where teams actually have to plan for him. Finally, he needs to continue developing his passing game -- while the step forward he took in the NBA is a great start, it's certainly not enough. If Walker wants to be anything more than a 20-25 minute a night backup, he's going to need to take some serious steps. Realistically? He's already somewhat improved from what I expected he'd be coming out of college, and I don't think he's anywhere near his ceiling. I don't think he's ever going to be a serious starting-quality player, but he could definitely develop into a solid pace-changing 15-20 minute a night guard leading the string for a contending team. That's, in my view, a realistic place for Kemba in the NBA. Now let's see how it goes.

• • •

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. Last Friday's riddles were won by a bunch of 2/3 guesses -- I thought the "satellite" key-in would be a dead giveaway for Jamario, but thinking back, I'm not sure anyone even realized he was a Bobcat last year. The key riddle problem. Anyway. Good job to Sir Thursday, J, Chilai, Atori, and the world's leading expert on pig backs, Dr. "wul.f".

• This player has the same last name of another NBA star. No relation -- their heights should tell you that much.
• One of the few exceedingly minor players in the league who has had at least one game of extreme dominance. It was in college, but it was among the best individual performances in the NCAA of the last few decades. Just crazy stuff.
• "I just want to make sure I’m [Player #216] wherever I’m at. I think I can be [Player #216] wherever. It just depends on the system, the people around the system, who’s going to let [Player #216] be [Player #216], not make [Player #216] something they think he should be."

Stay frosty, friends.

• • •

Our offseason edition of The Outlet is back, in full-on preseason mode! Don't call it a comeback, we've been here for, well... bit under one year. Still. Sit back, play David Bowie's "Changes," go to your shrine of David Bowie in the other room with all the candles, ask David Bowie's effigy to make haste with the start of the season, go back into your computer room, play "Changes" a few more times, and then read some fresh takes on the preseason. We're almost back in the swing of things. In fact, go ahead. Call it a comeback. The Outlet is back, and soon, in its tow, so will the season. Get ready, fansketball.

• DET v TOR -- The Dunking Drummer (Adam Koscielak)
• WAS v NYK -- Beal's Frustration and Burden (Jacob Harmon)
• SAC v PHX -- The Play-by-Play of a Lost Friend (Adam Koscielak)

• • •

The Dunking Drummer (by Adam Koscielak)

What a surprise. What an enigma.

Coming into last night's Raptors-Pistons game, I wanted nothing more than to see some Jonas Valanciunas action and to swoon over the ever-improving Andrea Bargnani. Instead, about all I'd find from the Toronto end were some vintage Jose Calderon offensive talent, a new and improved DeMar DeRozan, and last but not least, a shockingly non-trigger happy John "The Human Cannon" Lucas III.

No, the real shocker came from Detroit in the form of one Andre Drummond, gliding o'er all, singing many deaths, reigning down with a barrage of alley-oops, and generally looking the part of gleeful athletic madman, rather like Kenneth Faried in his preseason debut. Just how good can Andre Drummond become? Or to ask perhaps the harder querstion: How good is he right now? I have no idea. Last night, Drummond played to his strengths, doing what he knew how to do: Dunking, rebounding and swatting. Yes, qualifier barrage: it's preseason, yes, and the Raptors' defense is once again only getting into gear with Dwane Casey over their heads with a whip. I don't know what, but whatever it that Andre Drummond has was something to behold last night.

As twitter proudly noted, Andre Drummond has a boatload of potential. And it's a boat filled with the apparitions of seasons in which Drummond has become the best player in this league. That's a mouthful, but before we have to spit some of it out, let's gather the evidence: He's bigger than Dwight Howard and at least as athletic. Fast, furious, big, athletic, and raw. And that's the kicker. He's so raw that he can be molded in a lot of ways, and so raw that we can build nightmarish potentials around his actuals. His actuals, right now? DeAndre Jordan 2.0. But he can grow to be Dwight Howard 2.0. That is the madness that made him a player that could've been picked absolutely anywhere in the 2-15 range of the NBA lottery. Every team had to ask themselves: "Can we develop this kid? Do we look for that fertile end of rainbow?" The Pistons have given him a chance, no doubt hoping to have instantly an envious frontcourt of two top-30s (at minimum) in Drummond and Greg Monroe. But will that happen? And what comes next for the Pistons? I have no idea. Drummond is raw in basically every aspect of the game save for dunks, rebounds and blocks. A good coach and system can teach him how to harness the space he creates to post up, to know when to pass and how to pass, etc. A bad coach can leave him scrambling for minutes as another big man comes in, a big man more suited to bad coaches: With little potential to grow, but skills that make him more immediately valuable and workable than an undeniable beast of nebulous future.

And let's not make this about coaches: The NBA is a grind: What happens if Drummond is ever forced to play out of that personality, is ever forced to post-up and lead (or passably maintain from his position) an offence? Who knows how he would react? And how long will he last in the now-information-besotted NBA before hack-a-Drummond becomes a prominent feature of the anti-Pistons gameplan? These questions aren't going to go away unless he proves he can deal with it. His current value is in large part based on how he handles himself on the floor. After all, not even Lawrence Frank can force him into posting up and shooting midrange jumpers. That's his choice. And his choice might greatly weigh on what he becomes.

And that's the thing with players like Drummond — you just don't know.

• • •

Beal's Frustration and Burden (by Jacob Harmon)

Responsibility is a difficult thing. Growing up, we're often given the impression that at some point we'll simply be qualified for it; that having graduated from childhood to adolescence, and then adolescence into adulthood, we'll be at least marginally prepared for the expectations and pressures of our adult lives. But of course we know this isn't the case. There is no threshold to be crossed, final examination to pass; no orientation to complete that ushers us into the personal spotlight of true adulthood and all that it entails. At some point we all willingly accept our relative trial by fire: some set of responsibilities for which we feel not entirely prepared and from whose achievement, in spite of that feeling, springs confidence. Well, that and realizing you don't know anyone at your old high school anymore. Most of us often find our individual trials aren't insurmountable. Most of us aren't Bradley Beal.

Most of us aren't being given joint responsibility of a franchise, expectations of thousands of jaded fans, the mocking eye of the media and country at large, and - in the final tally - baggage from decades of utter failure and dysfunction. Our trials are somewhat overlooked; our expectations adjust without notice. Not so for a high-lottery-pick rookie: These guys come in young and take on the immediate burden of typically-floundering teams in dire need of their services. But most of those teams aren't the Washington Wizards. The expectations upon Kyrie Irving are enormous, and he's responded in spades, but at least there's a template: The Cavaliers have had plenty of glory in recent memory. Sure, LeBron never delivered a championship, but you can't sniff at years of deep playoff runs and a Finals appearance. The Bobcats are mocked for their incompetence, but they're young, and fans have stuck by the team can console themselves with the notion that things basically can only get better.

But what do you say about the Wizards, whose brightest moments have been the brief comet that was Gilbert Arenas and the high expectations for a 38 year old Michael Jordan? Whose John Wall has been, if not a disappointment, thus far in danger of being severely overhyped? Whose national attention last season came mostly at the Youtube-worthy antics of JaVale McGee? On the floor against the Knicks, near the end of what was a optimistically strong game for Beal, I saw a flash of rookie frustration that gave me pause. After nearly a whole shot-clock of wasted ball movement, a blown screen, leading to a wild chucked 3, a wide-open Beal stood at the top of the arc, lifted his arms and shrugged his shoulders in dismay, before running back on defense shaking his head to no one in particular. It was familiar primarily because it was the body language John Wall wore almost permanently throughout last season. The Wizards are ostensibly a much improved team this season, having shipped out much of the bad blood and brought in some legitimate talent to accompany the Wall/Beal backcourt. But with Wall and Nene both out early, the newest high draft pick looks to confront a situation not unfamiliar to Wizards fans. Beal may have many frustrating nights ahead of him. I only hope it's not the case, as his talent and degree of controlled confidence on the court indicated a player deserving of much better.

• • •

A Play-by-Play of a Lost Friend (by Adam Koscielak)

As you probably all know, not all preseason games are televised. Some local stations just decide that the broadcast costs of a preseason game as opposed to the quality and intensity of a game are not really all that worth it. When that happens, fans of some teams get quite irate. Kinda like I did, when I found out that the Suns game was not televised on NBA TV as advertised, and was instead put into radio only mode. And rather than watch (and cry) at Steve Nash no-look passes against the Blazers, I decided to go all-imagination using NBA.com's play-by-play feature to "watch" the Suns in their first game without Steve Nash. In some ways it was easier: I did not cry. I did not weep. I just watched the stats and made comments, pretending I knew what the hell was going on.

But even so, even with Steve Nash being in a completely different city, with a completely different team, as Goran Dragic and Kendall Marshall passed through the game and their pictures flashed before my eyes, I refused to accept that Steve Nash wasn't on that team. Marcin Gortat making good offensive plays felt like it. Michael Beasley's suddenly efficient jumpshooting felt like it. Wesley Johnson on a scoring tear felt like it. I just can't wait to see if Goran Dragic is something of a second coming for us (though I might just be crazy). Steve Nash's spirit was still in that Suns jersey, and the fact that I couldn't watch them in his absence helped me go further into denial.

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 Corey Brewer, DeMarcus Cousins, and Derrick Rose.

• • •

_Follow Corey Brewer on Twitter at __@CoreyBrewer13.___

You know, it's actually pretty uncanny how similar Corey Brewer is to a player I covered earlier this week -- namely the similarly named Ronnie Brewer. Beyond their last name (no relation, surprisingly), they have two big things in common. First, they both look primed to play key roles (important bench sparks, if not outright starters) for patently decent barely-below-contender teams. Second, they're both relatively rudderless on the offensive end and show virtually all their value on one end of the court. Period. I talked on Monday about how Ronnie Brewer was somewhat screwed by free agency -- as bad as he is on offense, he's a legitimately elite perimeter defender and worth far, far more than the minimum. The idea that the Knicks were able to snag him for the pittance they spent on him seems laughable to me. At a bare minimum, he should've been able to snag a salary similar to that of today's Brewer, at $3 million or so. Especially at his young age.

Regardless. All things considered, Ronnie might actually be better than Corey. On the offensive end, I talked at length about how his biggest issue was that he was misdistributing his shots -- he actually posted above-average numbers within 9 feet, he just inexplicably refused to use that part of his offensive game. Corey Brewer has a similar issue, from virtually the exact same ranges -- he converted at a slightly above average from 3-15 feet, but posted inordinately low numbers from every other shooting range on the court. Never quite in the bottom 25%, but immensely close on multiple levels. The big differentiating factor is that Ronnie distributes his shots terribly while Corey distributes his shots reasonably well -- if Ronnie stopped taking an inordinate amount of shots he can't seem to make, and Corey started actually making more of his at-rim plays that aren't uncontested fast-break dunks? They could both theoretically improve to be only <i>slightly</i> below average on the offensive end. As for defense, both are stoppers, though I'd argue Ronnie a bit more effective than Corey.

His on/off court statistics were gaudy for Denver last year, although one wonders whether that was primarily a function of his defense or primarily a function of Afflalo playing such dismal defense after the dust of his new contract settled. He's an athletic type who hawks passing lanes like a pro and is at his best outside a halfcourt, grind-it-out game. Being as he is a relatively thin and spindly guy -- at least as compared to the NBA average -- Corey Brewer tends to be outmuscled in big-time matchups and (subjectively) tends to find himself overwhelmed more frequently by sheer size than a player like Ronnie Brewer (who instead tends to lay back, keep from fouling, and rough the player up through screen misdirection and other sneaky tricks). On an everyday basis, Brewer is an excellent defender -- he fouls a lot, granted, but his value in the open court and in the passing lanes pays dividends. His problem is that down the stretch, when the game becomes more focused on halfcourt defense and scoutable matchups, he has fewer opportunities to do those things he excels at -- he becomes pigeonholed into guarding wings larger than he is, and gets lost on his coverage and outmuscled in the post. Problems. Ideally, though, having Iguodala on the Nuggets will help -- if there's any good mentor in the league right now on the subject of defense it's Andre Iguodala, quite possibly the best defensive wing the game's seen in a decade or two. I'd expect Brewer to make a small and miniature leap under Iguodala's guidance this year, on the defensive year. On offense? Probably not. But with defense this solid, you can accept a few missed shots.

• • •

_Follow DeMarcus Cousins on Twitter at __@boogiecousins.___

Ethan Strauss asked an interesting question last night. Namely, what a re-draft of the 2010 draft would look like if you did it today. We're two years into the careers of those players -- isn't it soon enough for us to start assessing how they stacked up? The issue you quickly realize is that even now, at only two years into their careers, we really don't know all that much more than we started with. We know a few of the surprises, and we have a decent sense of most of the busts. We have a very vague, general sense of the top 3 or 4 players of the class. But we know scant few things beyond that, it's actually pretty hard to rate players within these tiers. Just look at the top four. We know -- in a very, very general sense -- that the top four players of the draft are John Wall, Derrick Favors, DeMarcus Cousins, and Greg Monroe. Paul George, Gordon Hayward, and Avery Bradley sup among the fringes, but I'd say those four are relatively agreeable as the current "best" outputs of the draft. How do you really rank them? If you like offensive productivity, Greg Monroe is a sky above any of them. If you like defensive potential, Favors is your guy. Incredible passing? Try John Wall.

And then you have DeMarcus Cousins, the incredible dancing enigma.

Prior to Westphal's firing, it looked as though this season was set to be of the "oh, he's not very good, let's pile on him" sort. It certainly looked to be the case through a few weeks of games, with Cousins putting up absolutely anemic averages on incredibly inefficient shooting. But Westphal got fired, Smart got through to him, and many of Cousins' troubles seemed to fade into the ether. His focus improved, his defense got FAR better (more on this in a second), and his shot selection got slightly less egregious. Some big picture issues remain, granted -- if you're a center who's shooting roughly 45% from the floor, you absolutely need some more polish on the offensive end. And when you look at the locations he shoots at to get those numbers, you actually get even less hopeful -- it's not that he has a bad shot distribution profile, but simply that he's been incredibly easy to stop on the block in his career to-date. He's in the bottom 20% of all centers in at-rim field goal percentage, and quite For a player who so often brings to mind images of Webber, O'Neal, and Moses? That's not good. He should be unguardable that close to the basket. He should he a machine, scoring 10-15 points a night on dunks alone through dominating at-rim play. If he ever fully gets in shape, perhaps he will.

And let's be honest. It WOULD be pretty cool if he did that. Because quite frankly, if he ever gets that whole "producing a non-negative value on offense" thing figured out, last season he seemed to put everything else together that he possibly could. With the exception of an overly high turnover rate (primarily caused by the insane number of doubles Cousins faced this year on the block), just about every other stat you could possibly cite spells happy things for Cousins. He's one of the 3 or 4 best rebounders on the planet Earth, from either end of the court. He's a decent passer, if not an extraordinarily prolific one -- John Hollinger aptly noted in his player profiles that Cousins assists on more dunks, layups, and threes than the vast majority of big men, and if you adjust his assist percentage for assist quality he ranks high among all centers. Best of all, for Kings fans? He's -- shockingly -- developed into quite the solid defender. He was among the best at recovering on spot-up shooters when the Kings cross-matched him on long-shooting power forwards like the recent Tim Duncan or the always Dirk Nowitzki. He uses his extreme length well, posting steal rates much akin to a guard without regularly getting far out of position. He isn't exactly a bulldog in the post, yet -- one-on-one defense is still a flaw, and the varied art of defending plays rather than defending shots is still something of a mystery to Cousins. But the broad strokes to a dominant player are there.

All things considered, it's rather difficult to project how Cousins is going to acquaint himself going forward. Given his age -- he turned 22 not more than two months ago -- you have to like the upside potential here. If he works his conditioning into its logical extent, and Smart builds a better offense that puts Cousins in a better position on offense? He has some serious potential to be a game-changing type of two-way big that typifies the next generation. And luckily for him, with his age as low as it is, he stands a good shot of being one of the best big men in the league for a span of the decade to come. He hasn't quite arrived, yet. But his defense is coming and his tertiaries show promise. Two years into a player's career, we can hardly state that we know anything for sure about a player's future. That was the point of opening with Strauss' question -- it's tricky, and even though it feels like we have a large enough sample size to compare, we aren't even a third of the way to most players' peaks. We can't say, yet. And if Cousins can improve his finishing and develop his body into an adult form? Well, honestly, there are few things he can't do. Sky's the limit, wouldn't you know.

• • •

Follow Derrick Rose by inspiring a city.

I barely discussed it in the capsule proper, so I suppose I'll state it here -- Derrick Rose's 2013 season is likely to be punted. If the Bulls were smart, they'd simply sit their star out for the duration of the year and let him do the slowest, most exacting rehabilitation he could possibly get his hands on. Injuries like those Rose suffered in last year's playoffs are exceedingly rare and exceedingly harmful -- the only known truth about them is that, as with any injury, rushing back to overexert oneself immediately is just about the worst thing you can do. Rose relies on several things to be an amazing player. His ethic, his guile, his vision. But chief among them? His athleticism. The deleterious effects of a vanishing athleticism could sap his game to the harshest degree. Anything that gives him a better shot of maintaining that is something the Bulls should be doing. Period.

Still, while I've been often critical of Rose (and don't personally enjoy his playing style nearly as much as most do), I can't deny a certain overwhelming respect I have for Rose as a person. The trappings of NCAA basketball tend to turn Calipari players into pop-media "villains", as commentators snipe over their "corruption" and how they "abuse" the system. The echo chamber amplifies any and all perceived faults and slights, and in a broad sense, completely misses the point on players like Rose. The point shouldn't be that Rose falsified a test score -- the point should be a closer examination of the harsh life that pushed Rose into a situation where he'd need to. The point shouldn't be a hatred of Rose for not being whitewashed and collegian like a Hansbrough or a Fredette -- the point should be an examination of how Rose embodies the American dream more than almost anyone on earth could hope to. In pursuit of that message, I decided to go the somewhat odd route of approaching Rose's life and legacy through the parallel lens of James Joyce, the broader city of Chicago, and the trappings of fame. Let me know if I succeeded.

Derrick Rose was born on October 4th, 1988. It was a calm day, with temperatures in the high 40s and a slightly nippy wind. This calm was antithetical to the situation the boy was thrust in. Unlike Joyce, Rose all but skipped the younger "prosperous" stage of life -- his father walked out on the family before Rose was born, and as a child, Rose was left to be raised by his mother and three older brothers in the neighborhood of Englewood, Chicago. A bit of needed context: Englewood is arguably the most dangerous neighborhood in America. It features a poverty rate that consistently brushes 50%, massive gang infusions in just about every square of possible territory, and crime beyond comprehension to many. It's very hard to live in Englewood, and harder still to do so cleanly. Consider -- in a 5 month period surrounding Derrick's draft, 28 people were shot within the block surrounding the court Derrick learned the game on. Rough situation? Ridiculous understatement.

For more on Derrick Rose, please read today's Player Capsule (Plus).

• • •

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. Excellent sleuthing by Chilai and Geezer, who both got 3/3 guesses for the first time in what feels like weeks. (And to Zewo and wul.f, who piggybacked off Geezer's expert guessing.)

• This Bobcat is a welcome shooter.
• This Bobcat is a waived satellite.
• This Bobcat is a waltzing swagman.

Apologies for the lateness. The Rose post took some re-readings some of Joyce's work and research into some historical facts to properly contextualize, which obviously took a little while given Joyce's general difficulty. Not to mention a few unexpected financial oddities that arose when I returned to Vegas, as well as a swamp of things at work. Which, incidentally, is where I'm off to now, my machete primed to exact vengeance on the outcroppings. I'll be attempting to do a few extra capsules a week for the next few weeks -- I want to finish by Christmas and give myself a bit of wiggle room, and that would be the best way to accomplish that. "Attempt" and "succeed" are two different things, though, so I suppose we'll have to see. Have a good weekend, folks.

• • •

“Think you're escaping and run into yourself. Longest way round is the shortest way home.”

James Joyce was born on February 2nd, 1882. His father was a tax collector, his mother was a homemaker, and his siblings were dead. Growing up, this boy found himself in a unique situation relative to many of his time -- although his family was not of extraordinarily high means, his father was extraordinarily supportive of his son's literary side. To a level above and beyond most people outside the absolute pinnacle of the Irish social ladder. In fact, at the age of 9, the boy already had his first "published" work -- a poem on the death of Charles Parnell, printed among friends and officially submitted (although not accepted, much to the chagrin of many historians who'd like to read it) into the Vatican Library before the boy had even reached double digits. Promising, no?

As Joyce grew older, his situation changed. The world grew. His father turned to alcoholism, his family's situation crumbled around him, and Joyce became a man of the world. Or, more aptly, a man of the city of Dublin. He came to acquire knowledge much like children acquire candy or a collegian acquires alcohol. He learned and learned and learned, and all the while absorbed as much worldly experience a man could consume. And once he'd filled himself to the brim with knowledge, experience, and a sharp development of his natural wit? He gave a whooping breath, inhaled his surroundings, and spewed in a broad stroke the contents of his city. The result was a manuscript published under the title Ulysses, considered by many to be the greatest book of the 20th century. He was a modernist, an avant garde trend-setter, and one of the most influential writers of all time. Today, there's a semi-national holiday in Dublin based after his work. There are museums erected in Ireland in honor of Joyce's work. A cottage tourism industry. A pub in his name and honor. Essentially a national hero, at this point.

• • •

Derrick Rose was born on October 4th, 1988. It was a calm day, with temperatures in the high 40s and a slightly nippy wind. This calm was antithetical to the situation the boy was thrust in. Unlike Joyce, Rose all but skipped the younger "prosperous" stage of life -- his father walked out on the family before Rose was born, and as a child, Rose was left to be raised by his mother and three older brothers in the neighborhood of Englewood, Chicago. A bit of needed context: Englewood is arguably the most dangerous neighborhood in America. It features a poverty rate that consistently brushes 50%, massive gang infusions in just about every square of possible territory, and crime beyond comprehension to many. It's very hard to live in Englewood, and harder still to do so cleanly. Consider -- in a 5 month period surrounding Derrick's draft, 28 people were shot within the block surrounding the court Derrick learned the game on. Rough situation? Ridiculous understatement.

But Rose's mother and brothers persevered, trying desperately to give the young prodigy a life better than the one he'd been born into. They drove him everywhere -- Rose never had a practice in school without one of his brothers in the stands -- and actively picked schools so that Derrick wouldn't have to walk through multiple territories. Not to mention the media -- until Rose picked his college, the family refused to let him do interviews or sign with vicious street agents. This was far more necessary than the disconnected may initially think -- Englewood's violence isn't simply reserved for gang members, it also weighs heavy against those who inspire jealousy. At Rose's own alma mater, there was the teachable and tragic story of Ben "Benji" Wilson. Wilson was Chicago's first #1 ranked prospect in the sport of basketball. "Magic Johnson with a jumper." He too hailed out of Englewood, and he too went to Rose's high school. He began to get focused on in newspapers, media events, and national hype. It looked as though Wilson had a promising, wonderful career in his future.

Until he was shot dead at the age of 17, that is.

Rose's family saw the tragedy. They saw the spectres looming around every dangerous Englewood corner. And they knew Rose's talent was special. So they did every single thing they could. They kept their tight-knit family afloat, propped him up, and gave him a shot. That was their lot, and they succeeded beyond all reasonable expectation. Rose's family deserves an astonishing amount of credit for giving Rose the opportunity to become the person he is. They offered the crucial support and love that greases the skids of a dream. And above all, they supported Rose. Held him up. Kept him afloat. Let him become his own man, with faith that the man would be true to their values. And, it must be said, Rose put up his end of the bargain, and then some. I don't want to bury you with anecdotes about how humble and wonderful Rose is -- you can find most of them anywhere.

But I will share one, because I've only ever read it in one place and it deserves special note. For Rose's first media appearance, he held a press conference to announce which college he'd attend. It was the first conference of his career -- Rose's family had learned from the lessons in Wilson's untimely death, and they curtailed his media appearances to an extreme extent. But for this press conference, Rose had a single request. He would not do the press conference unless two minor members of his high school team -- two of his best friends -- were able to use it as their own conference to announce their own college decisions as well. Neither made the NBA, nor were either a nationally-recognized player. Later asked by a related reporter as to why he was so stringent on demanding their presence at a conference that was supposed to be "his" day, Rose had an exceedingly short answer for him.

"They deserve a press conference too."

• • •

"I want to give a picture of Dublin so complete that if the city suddenly disappeared from the earth it could be reconstructed out of my book."

Once, over coffee, I asked an Irishman a misleadingly simple question.

"Is James Joyce the greatest writer who ever lived?"

Personally? I'd say emphatically not. There are three main prongs to a great piece of writing -- craftwork, creativity, and communication. While some (including a younger me) may take issue with how he does it, I don't think you can really argue that Joyce misses the mark on craftwork -- he's created some of the most intriguing and carefully-crafted metaphors that any writer ever has. Creativity? Come now. There's no one greater, at least from that regard. He essentially invented the western form of our now-common conception that stream-of-consciousness thought can actually improve our reasoning. It was rare in his time, and now it's a staple of reasonable thinkers -- that one's on Joyce. Not really sure how you can be more creative than that. But then there's the last one, and that's the bugaboo -- communication. And that's where my argument lies.

It's easy to talk about how brilliant Ulysses is in the abstract. It's easy to use your experience reading its highs to spread across the whole novel, and assert a constant stream of incredible brilliance. It's easy to be drawn in by his creativity, his intriguing concepts, his general ideas. But you know what? Honestly? None of that really changes the fact that Ulysses is effectively impossible to read on a single go-around. The book is about 300,000 words of disconnected, indirect speech. By one professional count, it contains more than 30,000 unique words, without counting the new words Joyce made up on the fly. The book's inherent in-jokes and generally over-explicit verbiage come back to haunt it, for new readers -- you regularly feel like a starving artist wandering a statistical conference, aimlessly frittering from room to room in search of something you can possibly relate to. Anything.

Because of this communication barrier, there's an element of overwhelming heft to Ulysses. To many readers young and old, it's a heft that makes it less a literary work and more a literary challenge. It's a giant, mysterious tome whose heavy pages and ornate structures are virtually inscrutable without layers and layers of complex analysis. It borders on the nonsensical, at times, and can drift into word salad on a moment's notice. It's not the most important quality, and it's not required to be great. But it IS required to be globally transcendent as more than a "great writer." You need to be able to communicate ideas on a level that people can understand. You can hardly hope to have a productive conversation if your audience thinks you're speaking in utter gibberish. So, no. I don't quite agree with experts who think Joyce is the greatest writer who ever lived. I'm not quite there, although I've come to appreciate Ulysses quite a lot more as I've aged as a reader.

But there's a point to this tangent. Back to the Irish.

The man I posed the question to thought for a moment. He looked into his coffee, sipped it, and smiled mischievously. He shook his head. And then he said something akin to this: "Nah. I don't think he's the greatest of all time. But I don't think it matters, either. He's one of the greats, and he's one of the legends. He's not quite there, but he's as close as any other. And who really cares if he's the greatest or not? After all, he's ours. He's MY writer. Better grasp on my soul than any writer his better, I'd say. So no, he may not be the 'greatest.' At least in any conventional sense. But he's mine. And sometimes that's all that matters."

• • •

It cannot be effectively argued that Rose -- despite his singular game, his startling feats, his humble grace -- is the greatest player in the sport. And even if he comes back fully rejuvenated in a season or two, he probably still won't be quite there. Too many gaps in his game for that, as of yet. Not a good enough shooter. Not a good enough passer. Et cetera, et cetera. Not to mention the other problem -- Rose exists within and for a city that has experienced exactly that. Nothing Rose does will ever stand up to six titles in eight years. Derrick Rose is not Michael Jordan, either, and in his stardom in Chicago, Rose often finds himself unfairly compared with Jordan.

But there's something Rose can do. Something that Jordan never could.

It's rather simple. He's a player who -- at his peak -- has the potential to give a picture of Chicago's best attributes so complete that if the city suddenly disappeared from the earth, it could be reconstructed out of the person and life of Rose. He's a player of hardship, hard luck, and hard paths. He's a player who worked for what he got and triumphed in the face of massive uncertainty and significant strife. He's a player who represents not simply his personal game, but also the city he came from -- he represents the American dream in a modern world and adds a hometown flair to his on-court dominance. His Chicago-style crossover, his apposite humility, his sea-changing athleticism -- Rose isn't simply a player. He's a concept. He's a man who triumphed over fate. He's a hometown hero.

And Joyce? Hobbyists like myself can doubt his work, and come up with reasons he isn't the greatest. But that's entirely besides the point to a whole score of people. To them, Joyce isn't just a writer -- he's their writer. In his roots, in his thoughts, and in his soul. Rose is similar. The wealthy, the vagabonds, and the transplants of Chicago alike can look up to Derrick Rose and see a man of impeccable principle and unimagined accomplishment. They can see his talent, his struggle, his gift. But most of all, they can see a reflection of their person and their journies. And perhaps, if they squint hard enough? A sliver of their soul as well.

Come back soon, Derrick. The game befits you.

• • •

"They lived and laughed and loved and left."

• For more capsules on members of the Chicago Bulls, see our Bulls directory. •

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 Brian Cardinal, Jeff Green, and Joe Johnson.

• • •

_Follow Brian Cardinal on Twitter at __@BrianCardinal.___

Brian Cardinal has a special spot in most people's hearts, and that's for good reason -- he was perhaps the best representative of a hilariously awesome archetype that arose near the end of the aughts. By my assessment, the trend "officially" began in 2007. Here are the previous members of this wondrous squad of -- as I call them -- "chilled out old or washed-up bros who aren't so good at basketball but could definitely beast it in a YMCA Bowling League" (or "Token YMCA Bowlers", for short):

• 2007: Matt Bonner
• 2008: Brian Scalabrine
• 2009: Adam Morrison
• 2010: Adam Morrison
• 2011: Brian Cardinal
• 2012: Mike Miller

I don't really remember exactly when I noticed this trend, and I can't really tell you why exactly I keep track of this. But... well, yes. I do keep track of this. I actually have a spreadsheet on my computer where I store this particular list, and on a boring between-projects day at work a few weeks back, I figured out exactly who meets this description on each currently title contending team. I... really don't feel like making a Google Doc out of it that I'd have to update, but I guess I'll use this outward description of the "Token YMCA Bowler" concept by doing a team-by-team breakdown of this year's top five title contenders according to their token bowlers. Ordered from the worst token bowler per the concept to the best...

• OKLAHOMA CITY THUNDER: Tough to crack this one. Last year, you could kind of make the case it was Derek Fisher, but this year you don't really have that many old players. Legitimately the only option you can really go for is Nick Collison, but he's... like... way too good at basketball to fit this archetype. Although he WOULD make a good YMCA Bowler, in my view. Sense of humor, competitive, seems like he'd master the intricacies of the local bowling alley. Still. Dunno. Probably the weakest contender by this "metric." (RUNNER-UPS: Cole Aldrich, Scotty Brooks)

• BOSTON CELTICS: Darko would be great in a YMCA bowling league! Bruising, intimidating, and probably throws a lot of high-speed strikes. That is, until he bashes a 20 pound bowling ball straight into the head of anybody on another team who wears black and white stripes. They don't have bowling leagues in prison, Darko. Exercise caution. (RUNNER-UPS: Brian Scalabrine, The Entire City of Boston)

• LOS ANGELES LAKERS: Some people would assume that their first thought -- Nash -- would be perfect for this. Nope. Wrong. Nash is simply far too good at basketball to be a token anything. The true winner, on this squad? "The Other Steve." Try and tell me that Steve Blake WOULDN'T be that sorta-annoying but highly dedicated middle-rotation bowler in an office bowling league. You can't tell me anything, reader, because I wrote this entire bulletpoint as though I'm Bill Simmons. Gotcha. (RUNNER-UPS: Steve Nash, Phil Jackson)

• MIAMI HEAT: This one's easy -- Miller hasn't retired, so it's still on him. He's got back problems, so he probably would have a tough time consistently dominating a bowling league, but you get the sense he'd be that kind of guy who just smiles at the table and keeps putting endless pitchers of beers on his tab while the rest of the team carries the way. You also get the sense that every once in a while, he'd have a bowling night where his back isn't killing him, and he'd COMPLETELY DESTROY the other team. And he just does it with this huge grin and his wife is ecstatic and he can't stop smiling even though his back is gonna kill him the next day. CLASSIC Mike Miller. This is him. Strong showing in this metric for the defending champs. (RUNNER-UPS: Juwan Howard, Shane Battier)

• SAN ANTONIO SPURS: Okay, look. Matt Bonner has a sandwich blog, quite literally hangs out with Skeets and Tas, and in Scalabrine's departure he's definitively the goofiest looking white guy in the league. Sorry, other teams. Spurs win this round. (RUNNER-UPS: Sean Elliot, Alex Arnon)

Whew. Good talk. Definitely had a lot to do with Brian Cardinal.

Finally, I bring you one last completely-true-couldn't-possibly-be-false fact about Brian Cardinal: he is a former correspondent on the Daily Show with Jon Stewart. Really, he defin--... okay, okay, no. He's not. But he bears a striking resemblance to former Daily Show correspondent Rob Corddry. In fact, the resemblance is so ridiculously apt it actually drifts astray into the deepest recesses of the uncanny valley. There are exactly two celebrity/NBA similarities that are so ridiculous I can't actively separate them when I watch the celebrity. This one is one of them. The only other one is John Legend with Mo Williams. (Which -- if you have a chance -- try to look at them side by side. They're twins.) Anyway -- the point is, just try and tell me that these two sterling individuals aren't the exact same person. Try it.

It's impossible. Quit, end, done.

• • •

_Follow Jeff Green on Twitter at __@jeff_green22.___

I get the general concept behind the effusive praise Jeff Green has gotten lately. "Jeff Green is the most athletic Celtic we've had in years! He can space the floor! He can spell Pierce on defense! This is gonna be GREAT." In theory, a player that could actually do all of these things would be a phenomenal improvement for the Celtics. Potential game changer. They were one stopper from beating the Heat, after all! Therefore, if they add a stopper or two and improve their offense even to "barely league average" level, they'll be set up as a strong contender for the eastern crown. (Well, okay, I'm not totally sure about that. But we'll get to that in a later capsule, I suppose.) Me? I honestly have an issue with the way most of my Celtic-fan friends discuss Jeff Green, and it has to do with internal conflicts in every single one of those three key exclamatories. Namely, they're all incredibly misleading. All true. But all misleading, poorly representative, and rely on best case scenarios that are so obtuse and increasingly absurd that they completely deviate from reality.

First off, while he's the most athletic Celtic seen in years, that tells you nothing about fit, skillset, or talent. Especially when discussing a team that's been among the least "athletic" teams in the entire league over the last 5-6 years. Let's put it this way -- Anthony Randolph would be the most athletic Celtic seen in years. Wilson Chandler would be the most athletic Celtic seen in years. JaVale McGee would be the most athletic Celtic seen in years. None would help the Celtics JUST because they're athletic. They'd help the Celtics if they could learn the system, and gain a better ability than they've ever shown before to work within a rigid, successful defensive system. Simply saying "well, he's athletic, Rondo's cool, how can this go wrong?" is overly-simplistic and relies on Green adapting perfectly, right off the bat.

Second... sure, he can space the floor. But why would you want him to? Green is among the worst long shooters in the game, having shot over 33% from three ONLY ONCE in his entire career. He's not a great free throw shooter, he's never been good at spotting up, and he tends to take far more shots than his team wants him to take. He CAN help the Boston offense -- but not doing that. At all. In fact, if the Celtics are smart, they'd take him the heck away from outside shots in an effort to restructure his game. They did a little bit of it back in 2011 when he last played for them, but not nearly enough -- just as he did in OKC, he markedly depressed the Celtics' offensive performance during that stretch. Their defensive rating got two points worse and their offensive rating collapsed by almost 10 points. This wasn't some sans-Rondo effect, either -- the Celtics actually performed worse with the two of them on the court than it did with either on the court individually. Again -- he CAN space the floor. You CAN employ him that way. You just... shouldn't. At all.

Thirdly? I have to represent on behalf of Paul Pierce to the idea that Green is going to do a markedly better job than Pierce on defense against LeBron. Pierce has long been underrated on the defensive end -- for the majority of LeBron's career, Pierce has been one of only two or three players in the league who actively made life difficult for LeBron on the offensive end. He's been slow, he's been sluggish. His athleticism isn't obvious, his defensive talent not in-your-face to the same level as a Bowen or an Iguodala. But Pierce is a marvelous defender against players like LeBron. He gets in LeBron's face, talks down to him while they scrap, and keeps his weight on him fluidly. Jeff Green is a different defender from Pierce, but that's not necessarily a good thing. Just because Pierce hasn't been able to guard LeBron the last two years doesn't suddenly mean an athletic defender is going to do any better. Look at the Thunder's efforts to guard him. Look at Danny Granger's attempts. Look at every player in the league. There's nobody in the NBA right now that can effectively guard LeBron James. Paul Pierce was -- and, frankly, still is -- a fantastic defender. He did better than anyone else in the league on LeBron for a long period of time. Jeff Green isn't going to do better without LeBron beginning a decline by age, something I sincerely doubt is in the cards. At best, Green will keep pace with Pierce. At worst, he'll be a serious downgrade. The idea that Green will spell Pierce and improve on Pierce's performance in playoff minutes is simply ridiculous.

Now, this isn't to be all doom-and-gloom. I don't think Green will be a completely awful player for the Celtics. For one, after you put everything in context, there ARE things he can do to help the team -- his athleticism isn't destroy-the-world great, and by itself is virtually useless, but it COULD translate to scintillating above-the-rim plays if Rondo can get a good rapport going with him. His defense is nowhere near as good as most fans seem to think, but he should help the team significantly in the case Pierce goes down with a big injury. Their depth is slightly improved because of his presence, as well. He's put up reasonably good statistical results when used as a large wing instead of a small big man, and while he's generally a so-so defender, it's entirely possible that Doc Rivers will work his magic and make him far better. But to take a step back -- his contract is laughably huge for a player of his caliber and if he doesn't make some kind of leap in the next year or two, Green is going to quickly find himself both out of the Celtics' rotation and an utterly broken albatross. I hope that doesn't happen. Green seems like a nice guy. But he certainly isn't the no-miss breakout-primed prospect many Celtics fans truly seem to think he is -- he'll depend on context as much or more than any of the Celtics' new pieces, and it'll be up to Rondo to bring more out of Jeff Green than he's ever demonstrated previously.

• • •

_Follow Joe Johnson on Twitter at __@TheJoeJohnson2.___

Ooh! It's Joe Johnson! Let me list off a few rapid-fire facts about Johnson's 2012 season.

1. Joe Johnson shot above the SG position average from every single shooting range. Not a single below-average range.
2. Joe Johnson was in the top 25% of SGs from 3-9 feet, 16-23 feet, free throws, usage%, and overall points per possession.
3. Joe Johnson's defensive ratings per Synergy are solid, and he was an integral part in an excellent Hawks perimeter defense.
4. Joe Johnson played almost 36 minutes per game, after age 30. He still only missed 6 games in the entire shortened season.
5. Joe Johnson was paid way, way too much money last year. He will continue to be paid far too much money going forward.

These are the facts. What you do with them is up to you, but you can't really deny them -- after all, they're facts. The way you look at Joe Johnson essentially depends on the weight you give point #5 -- if you simply think the contract was too absurd, and that Johnson won't be worth that amount of money to be a low-tier star, you generally have a negative view of Johnson's game. On the other hand, if you look at basketball players in a world exogenous to cost and solely on their merits as a basketball player, there are scarce few places to nitpick Johnson's general game. A few minor ones, obviously -- he doesn't draw as many fouls as a ball-dominant player should, he takes too many isolations, and he doesn't drive to the rim as much as he should. He also, regrettably, has Kobe-vision on the defensive end. That is to say he takes possessions off and often will be hidden on the worst perimeter player on the opposing team -- that may not work very well in New Jersey, where Humphries and Lopez will make elite perimeter defense a must.

But then there's the shooting. I used to think Johnson was insanely overrated, back about a year ago. This season really turned my head a bit. Sure, Johnson started the year off poorly -- he didn't totally look like an all-star player in the first few months, and he looked worse than Josh Smith overall. But as the Hawks made their playoff push, Johnson stepped up his game quite a lot, bolstering his efficiency and for the first time in his career actually taking an active role in putting the Hawks on his back in a productive sense. Johnson shot 45% from three over the last two months of the season, and frankly, it felt even better than that. He put up career-highs (or close to them) at almost every range, and while a worse shot distribution under the Drew offense made his overall field goal percentage look a tad worse, he clearly began to show cogent improvement with a slight shift away from his iso-heavy years under the Woodson regime. In this new role, Johnson didn't just look good, he looked great -- he paired extremely high usage scoring with supremely high efficiency and solid defense. He was clearly an all-star caliber player, and if that ability to keep filling the net in such an efficient way persists next to Deron Williams, he'll be a great addition in Brooklyn.

This isn't to say that everything is feathers and diamonds, here. A lot of Johnson's issues have sparked from genuinely poor offensive schemes from his past two coaches, completely abusing Johnson's better-than-most-think shooting and wasting it on 10-15 second isolation plays that no player in the league could possibly make consistently, no matter their quality as a shooter. He's situation dependent. Put him in the right situation, he'll do wonders. Put him in the wrong one, and he'll put up padded stats on an empty team. The problem? I don't know if Avery Johnson is really the right coach to get the most value out of Johnson. In fact, given how he's utilized Williams over the past two years, I've got my doubts he'll be any better than the Woodson/Drew. And if he isn't, the onus will fall to Johnson to stand up to Avery's play calling. Last year's results were very hopeful, for Nets fans, but there's still a ways to go -- the Nets need to put Johnson in a position to succeed. Is that a sign that Johnson really isn't that good? Perhaps. But I'd prefer to think, the more tape I watch and the more I get comfortable with his shot, that he simply needs some better guidance. At the age of 31, it's doubtful he'll even maintain his current levels for more than a year or two -- he's distinctly on his decline by now.

But one can dream, I suppose. As you were, Nets fans.

• • •

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. Bunch of 2/3 guesses, once again. Atori, Sir Thursday, J, Andrew Kieser, and Chilai.

• Great defender, shaky offensive player, interesting talent. Pretty much is what he is at this point, but Player #208 is solid. Looked good in the game I watched at Mandalay Bay this past weekend, as well.

• We all get that Player #209's a headcase. We get that he has issues with his long range jumper, like Josh Smith. But he's so, SO young. And his rebounding is so good. Come on. He'll be OK.

• Smooth. Athletic. Smells real sweet. Sad story, tho. Will be a Player Capsule (Plus).

As you read this, I am flying over the United States, returning triumphantly to Richmond with my wallet lighter and a conference conquered. I'll see you folks on the other side.

• • •

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 T.J. Ford, Joel Przybilla, and Josh Smith.

• • •

_Follow T.J. Ford on Twitter at __@tj_ford.___

Last March, directly after a freak elbow to the back in a routine regular season game versus the New York Knicks, T.J. Ford hung up his Nikes and retired for good. The retirement of someone who played for one of my favorite teams generally makes me feel conflicted and sad. And sure enough, that's exactly how I felt with Ford, despite the fact that I wasn't anywhere close to his biggest fan in San Antonio. While he was playing well, I spent most of the time essentially waiting for the other shoe to drop. He'd been relatively poor in Indiana over the past couple years, with his ongoing injury problems sapping his game and turning a once awesome player into a relatively tentative one. In San Antonio, some of that was still there, although Pop had carved out a better role than either O'Brien or Vogel did in Indiana. Suffice to say, though, I wasn't exactly writing paeans to his brilliance. But that's somewhat besides the point -- my point is, no matter how little regard you had for a player's game in-the-moment, you still get a definite sense of sadness when watching a nice guy like Ford walk away from the game he loves. After listening to him talk about the not-completely-voluntary retirement, though, I felt significantly better about the retirement. For two reasons.

First, although I felt bad when I realized it, I honestly had never quite internalized the depth of Ford's injuries. I knew he was injured and I vaguely knew that he'd lost his first season to a malady of the spine, but I'd never known the exactitudes. Apparently, Ford has been going against doctor's orders to eschew contact basketball for almost 5 years, playing on a surgically repaired spine that nevertheless posed a huge risk to Ford every time he stepped on the court. If he was tentative on the court (and to these eyes, he was)... an injury that serious would tend to make being anything else impossible, wouldn't you say? The looming, creeping thought in the back of your head that one errant mistake is going to break your spine? That's insane stuff. And you can hardly blame anybody for walking away from that. Second, his attitude regarding the retirement isn't one of regret or sadness. It's one of opportunities he'll take in the future, hope, and general contentedness. It's the most positive spin you could put on the genuinely awful happening that Ford simply HAS to retire for his health -- he'll gain more time for his family, his friends, and his life-after-basketball. He'll get to coach the Austin Toros. He seems to look at it as the next step in a long journey rather than a serious setback in his life -- that's inspiring and wonderful, and it's a beautiful sentiment. It's the equivalent of actually following through on the sentiment behind the outworn politician pap behind "spending more time with the family" and "enjoying the community" for reasons of wanting to do it rather than reasons of scandalous necessity.

So, I don't feel too bad. He'll go forward, he'll become a great coach, and he'll continue to beat the odds for people with his back condition. Game, set, match. Fun stuff. With his career over, here are a few interesting statistical facts about T.J. Ford -- did you know that in the 2007 season, a 3rd year T.J. Ford was 2nd in the league in assist percentage? Really. With a bullet, too. Ford was higher than Kidd, Deron, Paul, et cetera. This fact is one of the many things about T.J. Ford that consistently amuses me. Never in Ford's career has he been a fantastic player, but in that year, his passing went insane and everything seemed to come together. It culminated in Ford putting up relatively insane numbers in his limited minutes during that year's playoffs. 56% true shooting on 35% usage? Assist rate of 44 to a turnover rate of just 13? Eldritch. In short, Ford did play lights-out ball in his last two years in Toronto. And while his $8,000,000 a year contract looked pretty awful in Indiana, it's easy to forget that Ford strung together two very good years that (all things considered) probably deserved that kind of a hail mary contract. If not a tad more. But those arguments are essentially behind us now, I suppose.

While sad, I take his view -- at least he walked away while he could still walk, right? And walk he will.

• • •

_Follow Joel Przybilla by eschewing the concept of chocolate__.___

Why are teams still trying to sign Joel Przybilla? Seriously. I don't tend to get too low on players here, but with Przybilla's current state, I honestly can't help it. I realize he's a name that some people recognize. I realize that over his career he's been a phenomenal, game-shifting rebounder. The Wages of Wins metrics have always liked him a bit more than I feel they should. He WAS a low-usage, high-impact rebounding talent. Theoretically. Before he suffered from brutal injuries in the late 2010 season, he actualized that ideal nicely. Then he got injured, then he got traded, then he got injured again, and I mean... cripes, guys, he just isn't that good anymore. His rebounding has fallen off from levels of per-minute insanity to levels of per-minutes "slightly-above-averageity." His defense is completely gone, as is his ability to jump -- his few offensive talents have dwindled into simply "reaching up and placing the ball into the basket." Take it this way -- he took 14 shots outside the immediate vicinity of the rim last season. He made... one. A single shot! That's not even enough to manufacture a buzz. Shoot!

"At least he's still low usage, right?" Sure. But Przybilla's turnover rate -- extremely high over his entire career, especially for a guy as insanely low usage as he's been -- tends to indicate the problem with usage statistics that don't incorporate turnovers. While Przybilla put up a usage percentage of just 7.9% last year (among the lowest in the entire league), he posted a turnover rate of 28% -- that means that 28% of the possessions Przybilla tried to use resulted in a turnover. That's... pretty hilariously bad, honestly. And it's not like there's any indication that it'll get better -- he actually posted an even worse percentage the season before, with a turnover percentage of 34% in the 2011 season. If you gave Przybilla the ball during the 2011 season, there was a 1/3 chance he'd turn it over. I actually like all the interviews I've read with Przybilla, and he seems like quite the stand-up guy. Some random facts: he's listed "The Big Lebowski" as his favorite film of all time on multiple occasions. He owns a bulldog named "Beanie." Avid outdoorsman -- loves to fish. Maybe that explains it. Maybe the Blazers, Mavericks, and Bucks all were competing for Przybilla's ability to teach their young bucks how to throw out a line.

I don't really know what else to say. I feel like a character from The Walking Dead, assuming that my character is some wonky guy picked up by the group and tasked with writing a 370 part series outlining the different zombies the group has encountered. "Well... this one was real bitey, wouldn'tcha know, and this one had a more guttural moan than most. This one bled a lot when we offed it, as opposed to like, you know, that one had bled out all the way beforehand so it was kinda desiccated and stuff. Oh yeah, I guess he was wearing a Grateful Dead shirt, so I mean... didn't really have a long ways to go from human to zombie, you know? Probably had a tattoo of a peace sign somewhere but hell if I'm lookin' those dudes are gross as heck. But I mean, fellas, this ain't rocket science. He's, um, a zombie."

That's basically Przybilla, at this point in his career. Not rocket science, here -- he's, um, a zombie. Good signing, Bucks.

• • •

_Follow Josh Smith on Twitter at __@TooSmoove5.___

People harp on Josh Smith for his errant long range jumper. Normally I'd use this space to try and counteract any overly-negative comments or thoughts people have. I'd really like to defend him, here. I try to defend more than I harp because I feel like it's simply a far more productive conversation to have. But you know what? It's essentially impossible to defend Smith's love of long jumpers from any remotely reasonable basketball perspective. At all. It's not like he takes these shots with split seconds left on the clock -- he'll regularly get the ball with 15-20 seconds on the clock, isolate, and simply let it fly. It's not like he doesn't have any other offensive skills -- he converted 98% of his dunk attempts last year and almost 70% of his shots at the rim overall. He's got talent, and a brilliant left-block post game to boot. Heck, he wasn't even that bad from 3-9 feet, putting in a field goal percentage roughly at the position average despite taking more than the average number of shots from that range. And, of course, better than his relatively abysmal percentage from the long two -- he shot 34% overall from outside 15 feet. Big men shot an average of 37% from that range.

Then again, Josh Smith also shot 7.95 shots per game from that distance -- the average big man shoots 3.58 a night. Maybe it's just a usage effect -- which explains the percentage, I suppose, but offers no guidance on what I find to be the most ridiculous thing about Josh Smith. It's not JUST that he shoots these with a low percentage, or that he shoots them late in the shot clock, or that he's bullheaded about the whole ordeal. It's simply the raw number he takes. Let me say it again -- on average, Josh Smith takes 7.95 shots beyond 15 feet in a single night. Let me try and put that in context. First, the raw number -- the average big man in the NBA shoots 6.86 shots a night. Not from any specific range -- OVERALL. Josh Smith, on an average night, takes more shots from outside 15 feet than the average NBA big man takes from the field. That's patently absurd. Second, the components -- despite being well below average for the range, Smith shoots more long two pointers than anyone in the league but Kobe Bryant. In fact, here are the top 5 in field goal attempts per night from 15-23 feet (along with their percentages from the range):

KOBE BRYANT, 7.72 shots per game, 41.1%.
JOSH SMITH, 6.32 shots per game, 36.7%.
GERALD HENDERSON, 6.25 shots per game, 39.5%
MONTA ELLIS, 6.22 shots per game, 37.4%
LAMARCUS ALDRIDGE, 6.20 shots per game, 43.1%

Ridiculous. Beyond that, he's an awful three point shooter (making 25% a night!) and an awful free throw shooter (his 63% from the line is in the bottom 25% of all power forwards). There are very, very few players with shot distributions more puzzling than that of Josh Smith. I'd argue there's virtually none. It's completely mindboggling.

Especially when you look beyond the shots. Outside of his offensive absurdities, Smith's tertiary stats are essentially the stuff of dreams. His rebounding is phenomenal, either as a small forward or in his natural role as a widebody four. His passing is excellent, although he does manufacture a pretty high turnover rate to go along with that. Steals? Top big man in the league. Blocks? Always up there. He's a fantasy basketball monster, and beyond all that, he's also an excellent defender. As the folks at Hoopinion smartly noted in their must-read season review of Smith's latest hits, he's one of the rare defenders who succeeds despite virtually never boxing out -- relies on his athleticism to make lightning-quick reads, and as such, will always be a more effective help defender than a primary man defender. Also, as they noted, any team that invests a long term high-dollar contract into Smith could turn out to be a pretty poor decision. Just about every facet of Smith's game is rooted in his athleticism -- without it, his defense would be little and his overused jump shot and decent court vision would be essentially all he has.

I don't really know what to say about Smith. Hopefully he puts it together. Figures out his role. Realizes he could easily -- EASILY -- make an all-star team if he didn't outright sabotage his chances with this utterly insane fixation on the long two and the vicarious devil-may-care attitude it represents. He'd make an all-star team, his teams would be better, and he'd probably be in line for a slightly sub-max contract. But, well. He probably won't, honestly. And he'll probably continue to befuddle and confuse right up until he vacates the league. Seems to be his M.O. at this point. Regrettable, but we'll always root for SOME disappointments, I suppose.

• • •

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. Fair notice -- Chilai also got 2/3 for Monday's capsules, I totally missed that. Sorry, Chilai! As for yesterday's riddles, most people got 2/3 -- good work to Raymond C, Lester, J, Chilai (once again!) Geezer, and Atori. Good job, folks.

• Player #205 is a father, a chimney sweep, and a correspondent on the Daily Show. (I think?)
• There are so many Celtics fans who are excited about Player #206. I'm gonna be honest. I've yet to figure out why.
• People need to start paying more attention to Player #207's defense -- THAT'S what's made him an all-star level player, honestly, not his iso-heavy offense.

Last night in Vegas. Time to go get a tattoo of Pitbull! Or maybe the Internet Explorer logo? Sounds chill, bro. Also: just a reminder, I didn't take Colombo Day off, so we DID run capsules yesterday -- Kevin Durant, Ronnie Brewer, and Shawn Marion. Chill stuff. Check it out, if you missed it. (And if you know why we've got a national holiday celebrating the largest city in Sri Lanka, let me know. Always really confused me.)

• • •

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 Ronnie Brewer, Kevin Durant, and Shawn Marion.

• • •

_Follow Ronnie Brewer on Twitter at __@RonnieBrewerJr.___

Contrary to popular belief, I do read every comment posted here. Although I rarely have time to offer a coherent response, I often incorporate tidbits and thoughts from the comments (whose writers tend to be smart, avid fans with very valuable perspectives on the ideas espoused in the capsules) into the capsules themselves, especially if I reach a mental block or find a certain thought particularly compelling. Sometimes, though, I see them as something of a challenge. Geezer correctly guessed that this capsule would be Ronnie Brewer, but noted that he had serious doubts as to whether the team acquiring Brewer -- here the Knicks -- really had reason to be hopeful or happy about his addition. This is pretty fair, all things considered. Brewer has his flaws. Especially on offense, where he was rudderless to the point of incomprehensibility last season -- he's got the offensive conversion rates of a bigger player, posting downright excellent numbers close to the basket (within 3-9 feet) and decent numbers on the true midrange. He just... didn't do either thing very often, choosing instead the strange route of taking well over half his shots outside of 15 feet, despite shooting an abysmal 33% on the long two and 27% from three. Less of that, Ronnie. More cuts and smart reads, please -- things you're good at and could add definitive value with.

But offense wasn't the question. The question was defense, and in that regard, I'm quite firmly in the camp that Brewer has a lot to offer. I tend to believe in his defense -- I think I've watched enough tape of Brewer that I can confidently say he's excellent. Knicks fans spun yarns to the heaven last season about Iman Shumpert's defense. It was good, don't get me wrong -- but his offense was abysmal and his defense didn't quite bear out by the numbers. Brewer, on the other hand? Brewer's worth on the defensive end was insane last year. It was partly filled by playing with Omer Asik, a player who I've previously outlined as one of the best defensive centers in the league. At least, you'd think that -- the thing is, Brewer actually played less than 25% of his minutes with Omer Asik. So that seems to be sort of a bunk theory. And even if he was gaming his sparkling on/off numbers... how Brewer could possibly be gaming his other tertiaries? He's one of the least foul-prone guards in the league, something that's IMMENSELY valuable when you're guarding players that shoot free throws as well as most modern guards. If you're constantly sending your player to the line -- something that, regrettably, Shumpert did quite a lot last season -- you're giving them a better chance to score than if they'd taken a wide open shot. Brewer didn't give up quite as many of those easy points to his man, enhancing his value. And harder yet to fool? Have to look at Brewer's Synergy numbers -- he posted excellent ones.

As for the eye test? I'd entreat you to ask Dwyane Wade how that turned out in the 2011 Eastern Conference Finals. Rather astounding set of statistics, here -- with Brewer on Wade, the Dwyane Wade who proceeded to run wild in the finals averaged a paltry 15 points a contest on abysmal shooting and rare free throws. THAT'S how guards can impact the court -- by keeping stars like Wade both off the line and out of rhythm, Brewer and other perimeter stoppers can do incredibly valuable things for any team willing to take a shot on them. Which brings us to his role next year, on the Knicks. Why, exactly, didn't anyone else pick him up? Seriously. Look at the contract he got -- a single year at the minimum. This guy is still in his mid twenties, just played 25 MPG as a primary perimeter stopper for one of the best defenses in the league, and is barely a year removed from being played extended minutes on shutdown duty in the Eastern Conference Finals. And you're telling me nobody was willing to give him more than the minimum? Insane. I think his impact on this Knicks team will be far more broad than most think, so long as he can keep from chucking up random shots. Counterintuitively, being a team featuring ball-dominant iso-heavy players may actually help him achieve that goal. If Melo and Amare are freezing him out on every possession, he essentially has no choice but to play his solid defense and fade into the ether on offense. Which means he can focus on what he's good at and play to his strengths. Brewer can produce everything Shumpert gave this team, and a little bit more. And in my view? He's the only new Knick that actively improves their bottom line. So yeah. I do think Knicks fans should be excited about Brewer. He was a major cog on a team that's won about 75% of their games over the past 2 seasons, and they got him for the minimum at their weakest position. An exciting pickup, to be sure.

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_Follow Kevin Durant on Twitter at __@KDTrey5.___

Hey, everyone, this is Alex, and I'm technically speaking the second-most prolific author on the blog (look it up!). Anyway, Aaron has some conference that he's at, so today I'm your guest editor, because I am writing this single introductory paragraph. Today, Aaron writes another Player Capsule Plus and despite talking with him for hours every day I still have no idea how he does it either. Anyway, the subject today is none other than Kevin Durant, whose offensive game is as dominant and as beautiful as anyone's in the game today. His game really fits the famous SportsCenter montage from "He Got Game" better than Ray Allen, in my opinion, and that's saying quite a lot. Anyway, here's a sample from the Durant capsule (which includes a preview of the Thunder and a rumination on the limits of prediction in the wake of last season's WCF). Check it out. Not like you'd have to be convinced by me.

Which leads to the main point of this post. A lot of people refer vaguely to the concept of youth when they discuss the Thunder, and default to the position that the Thunder will "naturally" be better next year due to youth alone. And thus, I posed a question to myself. How much better can Kevin Durant really get? I thought, and thought. I thought some more. And, after crunching the numbers and trying to figure out his most likely steps forward, I came to a basic conclusion. He could be a bit better. He could be a bit worse, if his shooting numbers fall off a tad -- something that often happens to tall shooters earlier than most. There are a few basic ways to improve his offense -- he needs to either get better at getting himself open against pressure (something he's currently horrible at) and better at controlling the ball when he handles it (as he's extremely turnover prone). Beyond that, short of becoming a Nash-style sniper, it's hard to see how Durant improves his offensive game. He can shoot from any spot on the court, he draws free throws in bundles akin to the Walter White methylene barrels, and he has a better shot than anyone his height in the history of the league, excepting (perhaps) the immortal Dirk. He was the best defensive rebounding small forward in the league and every single problem he has on defense is rooted in his general body-type, not a lack of effort.

But the most likely scenario? He stays about the same, onwards to the infinite.

To read more on Kevin Durant, read today's Player Capsule (Plus).

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_Follow Shawn Marion on Twitter at __@matrix31.___

The thing with me and Shawn Marion is less that his defense has been markedly more impressive this past few years and more that he's simply been markedly more important to markedly better teams. No, Julien -- you're correct, his defense hasn't been markedly better the past few years. He's lost a step, or two, or three. Certainly isn't quite the same as he was in his prime. But I still think the last two years have changed the way I look at him quite a lot. This past year in particular -- the 2012 Mavericks were rated a well-within-the-top-10 defense over the course of the season and started the season off as a significantly better defensive team than they finished it. Marion was integral to that in just about every way -- in the same way Dirk key the Dallas offense on the floor, in the same way LeBron keys the Heat defense, so too does Marion key the Dallas defense when he sees the court. He has the versatility to cover four positions rather comfortably and throw in a few small centers as well. And help defense? Fantastic. Part of the Mavericks' defensive success is rooted in the fact that Marion can (when healthy and sprightly) effectively wall off usual routes from opposing ballhandlers and force them to take passes charitably described as "unintuitive" in order to get past Marion safely. The fact that teams facing the Mavericks end up with a highly restrained passing playbook helps the Dallas big men stay on their man and commit to certain spots in the defensive scheme -- this simplifies their defensive playbook at the expense of Marion's, which is a trade-off that (for the last few years) has absolutely worked like a charm.

The big issue, with Marion's defense? Age. While these past two seasons have displayed him in ever-more integral roles on ever-more quality defensive units, Marion's beginning to get up in the years, and that could at some point translate to problems. And by "some point", I actually mean "the end of the 2012 season" -- the Mavericks' defense fell off as the calendar turned and Marion got exhausted from being overplayed, perhaps best exemplified by their short-lived playoff run. They competed in game one, competed slightly less in game two, got blown out in game three, and suffered a farther-apart-than-you'd-think loss in game four. Which roughly correlates with their season -- competed at the start, tailed off a bit, got crummy in the third quarter of the compressed season, then played relatively poorly down the stretch despite getting decent numbers. It was -- overall -- a rather underwhelming death rattle for a deserving and patently memorable champion. One of the biggest parts of that decline? Marion, of course. He suffered exhaustion and overwork as the season went on, exacerbated when several keystone parts of the Mavericks' compelling 2012 roster either fell off the face of the earth or succumbed to injury. Carlisle was forced to play him too much, and it harmed their bottom line in increasing form as the year went on.

Offensively, while Marion is mostly known for his hilarious and unbelievably broken shooting motion, you can't really deny its effectiveness. At least in certain ways. He's no three point shooter, sure -- he's a below-average three point shooter over the course of his career, And in fact, he's no shooter on any kind of long shots -- he converted a well-below average total from every range from the midrange to the three. But his free throws -- despite his busted form -- tend to imply that his form is working perfectly well for him. He's a career 80% free throw shooter, which is quite solid for a man his size, and patently absurd when you actually watch the exact tics that make his form so ridiculous. The strange catapult-like contraption he builds from his guide hand and his follow-through, the odd concentration in his eyes, the herky-jerky release... it's all perfectly weird, but it still gets him above-average from the line over his career, so how would anyone have room to complain? Marion's real offensive skill isn't the motion itself, but what he does with it in the post -- he's among the better post players in the league, not just in converting from the post and at the rim (something he's very good at in his own right) but also in his pinpoint passing out of it. Jason Kidd has done an excellent job in the last few years setting Marion up in good positions, where he'll have 2 or 3 solid offensive options to pass to after he fakes out his defender and gets the entire defense off kilter. Given this tendency in his post offense, the general takeaway is pretty absurd. Marion, a player whose defense would be reason enough for big minutes, often helps just as much on the offensive end. And that's rather absurd.

In the final summation, I may be alone in saying this, but I think Marion has a decent case for the Hall of Fame. I distinctly doubt he gets in, mind you -- he spent too many years as the primary defender on a score of awful defensive teams. But I think Marion's late career shine with the Mavericks has finally convinced me. Marion's an intensely valuable defender, and with a clever coach like Carlisle scribbling away behind him, it's certainly possible to make a brilliant scheme based almost solely around Marion's hilariously weird skillset. Combine that with his offensive value in creation from the post and his quixotic-but-solid free throw motion? You get a player who's inscrutable, interesting, and quite possibly one of the best casual-fans-don't-know players in the league. Fantastic sea-changing defender who can be the crux of an entire defense while an important and engaging piece on offense? Solid. Give me more of those in the hall, please. (And I'm not just saying that in hopes above hopes that the Hall creates an exhibit that preserves in amber the exact intricacies of one of the most hilarious shooting motions of all time. Although, to be fair, that's probably reason #1 why Marion in the hall would be fantastic. Let's be honest.)

• • •

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. Most of the comment-folk only got 1/3 right -- today's overall winner is @AtweetVirani with 2/3. Good show.

• If not tragic, Player #202's retirement last year was certainly sad. But there were some heartwarming and salute-worthy wrinkles if you looked close enough.
• Three teams actually competed for Player #203's services this offseason. The problem: I have legitimately no idea whatsoever why they'd do that. He's been gone for almost 3 years, really.
• Earth to Player #204: STOP TAKING LONG TWOS. YOU'LL MAKE AN ALL-STAR GAME. JUST STOP IT. CRIPES.

Hopefully I'm on-time tomorrow too. Haven't gotten as ahead as I intended. Oh well. Vegas is reasonably fun -- the preseason game was phenomenal, and Alex Arnon and I have a piece on it coming later this week. So watch out for that.

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