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

• • •

Follow Isaiah Thomas on Twitter at @Isaiah_Thomas2.

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

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

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

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

Good work, Isaiah. Keep proving folks wrong.

• • •

_Follow Gilbert Arenas on Twitter at __@agentzeroshow.___

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

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

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

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

• • •

_Follow Blake Griffin on Twitter at @blakegriffin_.

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

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

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

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

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

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

• • •

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

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

To bring our Olympic coverage up, we’re bringing our formerly retired series of daily vignettes — titled “The Outlet” — back for the Olympics. “Don’t call it a comeback.” Though, you can call it series 3, as we are in the title. Every day there's Olympic Basketball to cover, we’ll try to share two or three short vignettes from our collective of writers ruminating on the previous day’s events. Should be a fun time. Today’s Outlet covers the action from Olympic basketball, day one.

• AUS vs BRA -- The Return of Flopsy (Alex Dewey)
• USA vs FRA -- FRA-enheit 451 (Alex Dewey)
• RUS vs GBR -- They Had To Use Their AK (Alex Dewey)
• ARG vs LTH -- "We've Been Here For Years" (Alex Dewey)

Click the jump for today's thoughts.

• • •

AUS vs BRA -- The Return of Flopsy
Alex Dewey

Okay, only watched a quarter and a half of this one, but one thing stuck in my craw: Brazil's offense was relatively insane by NBA standards in this one, and to be instructive, I'd like to focus on the Brazilian great Anderson Varejao. If you've ever watched Anderson Varejao of the Cavaliers operate out of the pick-and-roll, you know how intelligently he plays, rolling even if the point guard decides to kick it out, rolling with his massive frame in directions that allow him to flare-screen or post-up for later action on the play. If he gets the ball, he can use it, even though he isn't an exemplary scorer. It's awesome. In the 2011-12 preseason, I noted with relish a wonderful end-of-quarter play by Andy with the Cavs:

My favorite Andy play of this game came at the end of either the second or the third quarter when he was rolling off a pick for Kyrie, who couldn’t get him the ball and ended up passing to a second option (Casspi I think). Varejao kept rolling, kept looking for the pass, and in the meantime was establishing good post position. But Casspi was open and took a good three. As soon as Casspi set up to shoot the three, Varejao, still in mid-roll, used the fact that his man was still moving with him to establish rebounding position, which he got on a near-side rebound for an awkward fading tip-in to beat the buzzer. I know chasedown blocks and dunks make the highlight films, and if it didn’t beat the buzzer it wouldn’t even be a highlight. But it was the kind of tenacity, intelligence, and creativity that wins games and championships.

Seeing Varejao in the Brazil offense was something of a revelation. In an offense that seemingly has no weak or strong side of the court (that is to say, cross-court passes were extremely common, and in a few possessions you'd see multiple cross-court passes -- real passes, not just reverses around the perimeter), so fast and inclusive is its offensive action, Varejao looked totally complete as a player. Even though Varejao isn't a good creator or scorer (even in the less tightly-wound international game that sees Pau regress back to a top creator/scorer), Anderson looks like the total package -- a node in a fast-moving network that must move quickly and unpredictably from side to side. Varejao's decision-making is actually used properly, making him -- in retrospect, unsurprisingly -- an astonishingly complete, elite big man at both ends in the Olympics and perhaps more useful than a more traditional scorer from the five.

To put it one way, if the Spurs (or whatever Steve Nash can make of the Lakers next season) somehow acquired Anderson Varejao, I sincerely believe that their top-ranked offense would not suffer much or at all. Instead, I rather believe that the top-ranked offense would change its character, much like it did with the acquisitions of Stephen Jackson, Kawhi Leonard, and Boris Diaw last season (or with the Lakers, with the emergence of Lamar Odom and Pau Gasol at the start of their most recent dynasty). Just as Parker's French Team experiences informed his masterful 2012 campaign, perhaps a closer look at Andy could inform an NBA coach about how to use him in the future. A top coach and a top guard might be able to find a way to use Anderson Varejao to his full potential, despite his reasonable reputation as a role player. Even with Andy's fine contract, it's pretty surreal to think how much more valuable he could be. If not, well, that's just one of the breaks of the game and a reminder that Olympic basketball has a way of turning your expectations upside-down.

This is quite aside from Andy's defensive skills, and quite apart from the exciting fourth quarter of the Brazil-Australia match, which saw the Aussies make an awesome comeback behind the speed and energy of (admittedly quite inefficient overall) Patty Mills and an impossible do-everything stretch by a finishing, charge-drawing, perfect-passing Joe Ingles that nearly brought the Aussies into the extra session. Ingles made two crazy finishes on two consecutive possessions_, one a high-arcing banked layup over the outstretched arms of Anderson Varejao_. I guess Joe Ingles subscribes to the Kobe System. Unfortunately the game was more-or-less decided when Brazil forced an Australian kick-ball with 9 seconds left, resetting Brazil's expiring shot clock and forcing Australia to gamble or foul. Ugh.

There should... probably be a slight rule change on that account, all things considered?

• • •

USA vs FRA -- FRA-enheit 451
Alex Dewey

This was a barnburner. Unfortunately for Gerard Depardieu, France itself was the proverbial barn. Boris Diaw looked awful, Kevin Seraphin looked solid. Tony Parker was sparkling, and he wore these goggles, and he still had both eyes, and it was really neat. Parker ran the offense quite well, and was able to get open space for some of his signature drives, borrowing his "Loop" action from the Spurs (or vice versa, it's impossible to know). In "Loop," as Joon Kim aptly demonstrates here, Parker passes the ball off to another player at the top, then uses a series of screens around the paint (in the eponymous loop shape) and his own speed to get a few feet off the defender, from which he can operate with an extra couple steps or else force the defense into an auspicious switch. Parker is well-equipped in these situations, and for the first quarter, the French team was holding pretty close to the U.S.

Then the U.S. remembered that it had more depth and talent at every other position -- even considering its sparse bigs, even to a somewhat stacked and medal-worthy French team decked out with major and minor NBA players. The depth came from Coach Krzyzewski's somewhat obvious decision to play small ball for much of the game, for the simple reason that it allowed him to play as much of Durant and LeBron together as possible and two top point guards (often Westbrook and Chris Paul) at once. Amusingly, France still found itself with mismatches on defense (I saw two LeBron post-ups on Tony Parker, for example... one of which -- hilariously -- failed. The other resulted in a kick-out three. I was pretty confused as they were happening). LeBron, Melo, and KD are remarkably good players with length and versatility, and it turns out that guarding inferior NBA fours and (in LeBron's case) even fives was not a major concern compared to the offensive output it provided. I never got the sense that Ronny Turiaf or Boris Diaw could score at will.

The U.S. offense was pretty neat, at least in the highlights. Whole lot of lobs and cuts. LeBron made an insane 50-foot bounce pass between two streaking defenders. Heavenly. My personal favorite (great euphemism for "not an insane 50-foot bounce pass," right?) was Deron Williams on a fast break, receiving an outlet pass and delivering a behind-the-back, over-the-shoulder touch to a player at the basket for an easy finish. And then there's this -- Harden's athleticism on the left-handed finish kind of evokes Scottie Pippen for me. I'm never going to complain about over-passing on a team with Kobe and Melo, but I guess that would be the nit to pick. France did not have the quickness to stop the overpassing, in any case, although Batum had some nice defensive sequences, including an impressive chase-down block right before LeBron's needle-threading 50-foot topper.

There were a lot of fouls, though, especially in the first half. To be honest, the fouls made the game alternately pretty and unwatchable. The officiating seemed to be alright but altogether rather suspect. Then again, our baseline is constant bailout calls for superstars, so seeing Boris Diaw get bailed-out is pretty jarring and makes objectivity difficult.

• • •

RUS vs GBR -- They Had To Use Their AK
Alex Dewey

Man, international play really makes these defensive-minded wings look like the best scorers in the world for stretches, eh? Former Jazz great Andrei Kirilenko and Luol Deng played their respective brands of tenacious, punishing, versatile defense. But it was their offensive games that really seemed to shine. On a set play at one point Kirilenko made this insane redirection pass across the lane from the top of his reach for an easy finish. AK-47 at various instances performed as every causal link in the positive production of easy baskets, especially in the currency of steals, passes, and finishes. Kirilenko was by far the best offensive player on the floor and for stretches Deng (and Pops Mensah-Bonsu) could make the same claim. Deng made this wonderful dribble-penetration-to-dunk through Russia's defense that the announcers described as a "pro move" but I don't think I've seen any of the pros in the NBA do it quite like that, not with quite the cleverness of strafing. All that said, while Russia looked tough, I'm not holding my breath for them to pull out a game from the U.S. Kirilenko might outplay one of our insanely long, versatile combo wings/bigs. He might even outplay two. But I really doubt he's going to outplay all nineteen such players on the U.S. roster.

And if they intend to medal, they'll need him to.

• • •

ARG vs LTH -- "We've Been Here For Years"
Alex Dewey

21-10-6-4 on 17 shots with 2 turnovers. Not a world-beating line.

Manu Ginobili makes a drive and his man doesn't get called for contact. It might have been a flop on Manu's part. There's no way to know. But Manu evidently does not think so, and during the ensuing Lithuanian possession, you can see Manu complaining about the no-call. Lithuania gets a basket on the possession and Manu takes it upcourt, still upset, still complaining to the ref walking beside him about that single no-call. As he's dribbling it up in the back-court, while he's in mid-complaint, Manu draws a rip-through on the full-court-pressing Lithuanian defender. So Argentina's offense resets and in seconds, Manu makes an angry drive and then gets a tough, impossibly-high-arcing finish, off glass as I recall.

The announcers compare him to David Banner. You wouldn't like him when he's angry. I don't know, I kind of liked the whole sequence. And -- flops and complaints being incidental to this anecdote -- the sequence exemplified just how much control Manu really exerted over this game. Sure, Carlos Delfino was shooting lights-out from deep and Luis Scola was shooting quite well himself (not to mention his finishing that seems ever crisper in the international game). But this was Manu's game, and he looked like a world-beater.

Manu passed the ball to Luis Scola by using a soft bounce off the top of the backboard on one play. On another, Manu drove to draw in the man from the corner, started a two-pass reverse around the perimeter to a wide-open Carlos Delfino in the corner to end the first half. On a finish in the second half, the announcers noted how he extended his arms to make a finish under the basket, and I understood exactly what they meant - his sinewy strength allows him those crafty, stretch-arm plays that defenders cannot help but underestimate. On another play, Manu found Nocioni on the roll for a wide-open look. Dagger. Ho-hum.

And -- with the game in hand, two minutes left -- Manu got into a vicious scrum for a meaningless rebound that Manu nevertheless felt was his. He fell on the other player, back first. A teammate kissed him as he subbed out. He emerged unharmed.

21-10-6-4 on 17 shots with 2 turnovers. Call it 30 things that he did right against, say, 10 he did wrong, in 30 minutes. No, it's not a world-beating line, but just like Manu himself, it sneaks up on you, it aggregates, it pools its advantages into something powerful. It complains and games for every inch and every millimeter, and it's vanquished the stars and stripes before.

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

• • •

Follow George Hill on Twitter at @George_Hill3.
__

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

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

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

• • •

Follow Carmelo Anthony on Twitter at @carmeloanthony.

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

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

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

• • •

_Follow Andrew Bogut on Twitter at @AndrewMBogut_.

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

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

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

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

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

• • •

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

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

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

• • •

Follow Gustavo Ayon on Twitter at @AyonGustavo.
__

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

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

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

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

• • •

Follow Dwyane Wade on Twitter at @DwyaneWade.

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

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

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

• • •

Follow Terrence Williams on Twitter at @TheRealTWill.

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

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

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

• • •

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

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

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

• • •

_Follow Jon Leuer on Twitter at @JLeu30._

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

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

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

• • •

Follow Wesley Johnson on Twitter at @WesJohnson4.

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

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

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

• • •

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

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

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

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

• • •

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

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

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

• • •

_Follow Jameer Nelson on Twitter at @jameernelson._

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

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

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

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

• • •

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

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

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

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

• • •

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

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

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

• • •

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

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

In our first attempt at offbeat, on-location reporting, we have our valued correspondant Alex Arnon with boots-on-the-ground in Las Vegas to cover the Summer League. This is his coverage from his second day at the Las Vegas Summer League. Please see our Las Vegas introduction for more information.

In the last installment of this series, I tried to get my summer league bearings while not embarrassing myself, which, well, didn’t work out too well. That night, I made another plan – I was going to go to summer league by myself and figure out all the trappings of being a member of the press: how to get a seat on press row, how to interview players, and all that other good stuff that’d help me feel important. But, like my earlier plan, this one also failed -- not as dramatically or spectacularly, but almost immediately. I awoke Saturday morning to a text message from a good friend I hadn’t seen in awhile, simply saying “let’s go to summer league.” He’d managed to get his hands on two free tickets through someone working there and invited me to go along but since I had a press pass and didn’t need a ticket, we agreed to meet up and he’d invite another friend along which is where we’ll start the story of day 2 at the Las Vegas Summer League.

• • •

I got to the Cox Pavilion before my friend did (we'll call him Juice from now on, considering that’s his nickname - I'm a simple man) because I wanted to see the Knicks' depleted summer league squad play the Grizzlies. It took approximately 17 seconds of watching this “Knicks” squad (considering they have all of one guy who might get some regular season minutes, they deserve the sarcastic quotes) get creamed by the Grizzlies before my notoriously-terrible attention span was turned to crowd watching.

Baron Davis was sitting in the front row next to Mike Woodson, where no one was asking them for autographs. This development absolutely delighted the part of me that had been forced to watch Baron Davis in the playoffs last year. Walt Frazier was commentating on the game for MSG. J.R. Smith was on the Knicks’ bench watching his brother Chris Smith chuck up ill-advised long twos (we seriously need to get some geneticists on finding the “long-two” gene and eradicating it from humanity). Alan Hahn, the best Knicks news follow on Twitter, was having a 10-minute long conversation with David Lee. Wait, David Lee? Sorry Alan, but my Twitter loyalty is now going to Frank Isola (just kidding, of course -- I’m not that crazy). The last person I noticed before leaving my seat to meet up with Juice was George Karl, who was wearing a pastel pink polo along with a classic George Karl I’m-too-old-for-this-shit smile after being bombarded with autograph request after autograph request on his walk up the stands to his seat.

I met up with Juice and was told his friend would be arriving shortly. I wasn't too excited. I’d never met his friend before, and to be totally frank with you, I absolutely detest meeting new people. It’s not that I’m antisocial or a sociopath or anything like that -- I just hate having to pretend to be super nice and talk about my background and what I do for a living and reciprocate the interest and yadda yadda yadda. I can’t wait for the day when you shake someone’s hand there’s a chip implanted in it that automatically uploads all that relevant “first meeting” information into your brain and you know all the background stuff (oh you’re from New York? I have an uncle there who has diabetes and his medicine is super expensive blah blah blah NO ONE CARES) and whether or not your inappropriate jokes will go over well with them -- by far the most important part of learning about a new person.

So when Juice told me that I was to refer to his friend as “T-Black” because, and this is an exact quote, “his name is Terrell and he’s black as hell” it was like the hand-chip stuff had already happened. I knew I didn’t have to worry about that intro stuff because if a guy refers to himself as T-Black you just know it's gonna be hard to not have a good time. We took a seat amongst some seemingly-knowledgeable crowd members. Well, except for the time when T-Black asked what college the Warriors’ Charles Jenkins went to and I told him that the roster sheet said Hofstra. “He came all the way from Austra? That little country in Europe?” Juice wondered. “Nah man, that country is called Austria. Aws-TREE-uh. He said Austra, like short for Australia!” replied T-Black. Me, being the terrible human being I am, confirmed that I did indeed say Austra as shorthand for Australia. They paid me back by not laughing at my Andrew Goudelock “Goldilocks” joke when he missed a bunch of shots in a row and I said “no wonder his name is Goldilocks, his shot is too cold!” There’s no quicker way to feel like an idiot than to not get a response to a fairy tale-based joke.

I was taught a valuable lesson some time later when I was approached by a random agent who saw me with my press pass still on in the general admission seating area. He asked me who I was covering the event for so I pointed at my credential which read ESPN.com and said ESPN. Just to make myself feel important, you know? He then proceeded to go on and on about some client he has in some obscure foreign league that just needs a story written about him to make it big. I feigned interest and took his business card which would later become a makeshift toothpick, perfect for when I got some errant chicken fingers stuck in my teeth. Jokes aside, I can’t imagine what it’s like for people who are actually famous writers – getting story proposals and the like all the time, I mean. Why come to me? If there’s anything I’m famous for it’s that I’m completely not famous.

Regardless, I'd said the magic words – that I was “from” ESPN – and everyone around me heard it. I spent the entire Lakers/Kings game fielding questions about basketball from_ every fan around me_ – “Why haven’t the Lakers cut Darius Morris?” Answer: I dunno athleticism or something. “How many minutes did Jimmer average last year?” Answer: I dunno I think he came off the bench though. “Why are the tags on their basketball shorts on the outside?” Answer: I dunno maybe they get to itchy to play basketball in. (Wrong, corrected T-Black, they’re reversible!). “Will there be a team in Seattle again?” Answer: I dunno hopefully. If you were one of the people sitting around me and were hoping for some deep insight from a guy writing for the nebulously defined "ESPN", I’m sorry. (Also, it’s 2012. You can Google this stuff on your phone now, guys.) Once all the fans left after the Kings/Lakers game ended, I took off my credential just to stop myself from embarrassing the collective knowledge of actual ESPN employees ever again.

Before the final game of the night, Wizards/Rockets, a new group of fans came to sit around us. The first one we noticed was the incredibly attractive girl who had the misfortune of mis-applying one of her hair tracks. We spent the first few minutes of the game alternating between watching Royce White and making track puns: “she ran a marathon just to get here!”, “that’s a big assumption there man, I guess you could say it’s a long jump of logic”, “guys, it’s not nice to make fun of her, she’s gone through a lot of hurdles in her life.” There’s something I haven’t mentioned yet, but it’s that Summer League basketball is not all that fun to watch. It’s more than fun to experience, sure, but at the end of the day its mediocre basketball with a few going-to-be-superstars thrown in for good measure. Eventually your boredom gets the better of you and you just people-watch. It’s inevitable and I apologize to ESPN for doing that with the opportunity they gave me, but the old summer league saying is true – it’s not for analyzing the players, it’s for enjoying the experience.

The first half was nearing a close and a guy who looked just like J.E. Skeets from The Basketball Jones, which I religiously watch/listen to, sat 3 seats to my right and down a row. I’m one of those people who zones out and stares straight ahead when I’m thinking about something which has led to quite a few awkward situations in my life. So, when I saw this guy at first glance, I just stared right at him while trying to conjure my best mental image of Skeets (get your mind out of the gutter, people). He turned to look at me while I was staring and gave me a dirty look for staring straight at him which only made me question if he was JE Skeets even more. So, naturally, I just kept staring while debating with myself if he was indeed Skeets or not. I ended up staring so much that he turned around again, gave me another dirty look, got up, and left the section we were sitting in. I realized two things in that moment: oh god I’ve done it again and DAMNIT I STILL DON’T KNOW IF THAT WAS SKEETS.

We ended up going home shortly after that to beat the crowd before the game ended like the truly cool kids we are and I woke up the next morning still wondering if it was indeed Skeets, so I did what any normal person who awkwardly stares at random people would do – I asked him via Twitter and he was kind enough to respond. Case closed! I didn’t creep out one of my favorite basketball personalities, instead, I only managed to make a completely normal, random patron of summer league think that I either had a huge man-crush on him or that I was going to murder him. Just another successful day at summer league, I suppose.

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

• • •

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

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

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

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

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

• • •

Follow Danny Granger on Twitter at @dgranger33.

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

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

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

• • •

Follow Ronnie Price on Twitter whensoever he gets one.

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

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

• • •

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

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

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

• • •

Follow Caron Butler on twitter at @realtuffjuice.

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

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

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

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

• • •

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

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

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

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

• • •

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

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

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

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

• • •

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

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

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

• • •

Follow Omri Casspi on twitter at @Casspi18.

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

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

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

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

• • •

Follow Alec Burks on twitter at @AlecBurks10.

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

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

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

• • •

Follow Trey Johnson on twitter at @MrTreyJ.

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

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

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

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

• • •

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

Adios, amigos.