Houston Rockets

Toyota Center here we come! Are we looking at a true contender this year out of Houston? Will Ron Artest be the Brian Eno to T Mac's the Edge? I've got a million questions, let's just get to it.

Rafer Alston: Skip has staked his claim as the true starting point guard for this squad, and with knowledge of that last line in mind, it's abundantly clear to me that there is no way the Rockets make it past the second round of the playoffs this year. His handle, three point shot, and quicks (both defensively and offensively) are upper-echelon, but not elite. He's getting older, and we all know that the AND 1 tour never tested for drugs or performance enhancing substances, so his internal organs probably represent those of a 55 year old single mother thrice divorced.

Ron Artest: Finally brandishing the colors of St. John's in a professional setting; while he and Chris Mullin share a plate of Stallone cuts and discuss the performance of the NASDAQ index, they can further review the carnage they and their fellow SJU alums have unleashed upon the league in the recent past. Felipe Lopez convinced the Timberwolves to waste a pick.



I wonder what will happen in a world where Artest is the "emotional" leader of a clubhouse.

Brent Barry: The need for each Barry brother to do watered down versions of what Daddy did continues; Brent will be the 3rd Barry brother to play for the Rockets. He is a vastly underrated defender, and will make this team better in all sorts of small ball ways.


Shane Battier: Used to have enormous swagger in college; he never hesitated to pull up for the gaudiest 35-foot three pointers. That said, Maryland's combo of Lonnie Baxter, Juan Dixon and Steve Blake held it down against the Blue Clown Devils. Battier remembers Adam Hall, he dreams:



Aaron Brooks: Oregon's surprise star is slowly churning like butter in to the point guard of the future for this rising Houston squad. Undersized? Yes. Underrated? I think so. Under Siege? Steven Seagal's masterpiece.



Joey Dorsey: Rebounding machine whose stock has steadily declined since he called out Greg Oden in the NCAA tournament two years ago. Can bring a lot to the table as a back up big, maybe Dikembe Mutombo will teach him about potential for an African Union that shares in the development of resource management for the greater good of all people on the continent.

Steve Francis: Remember Me?





Mike Harris: Wonders why Maurice is getting all this hype over in Salt Lake City, while he quietly contributes to another winning power in the west.

Chuck Hayes: Little Big Man.


Luther Head: Wonders why Deron and Dee got all the hype over in Salt Lake City, while he quietly contributes to another winning power in the west.

Carl Landry: People say he lacks the size of a traditional 4 to be truly effective on a regular basis, but the former second-round pick has shown nothing but consistent effort, with occasional flashes of brilliance.



Maarty Leunen: Reunites with former teammate Brooks. Does everything Novak did, but not as awesome.

Tracy Mcgrady: T Mac still can't get out of the first round. All the highlight reel plays in the world can't buy you a ring. Unless those highlights happen in the playoffs. Tracy's head got gassed the fuck up when he dropped all those buckets on the pistons back in 2004:





Dikembe Mutombo: My pick for President of the Future African Union.



Luis Scola: After watching him play with such remarkably boring efficiency during international competition, I loathed the day when he got signed by an American team. That said, he is a great teammate to these fellows and has the experience, determination and dirty tactics to help get a team through the playoffs. They just need the full compliment for Scola to be truly effective.

Ming, Yao: He's so tall, so fragile, so achingly tender to the touch; as the most ubiquitous international basketball star, currently playing, in the world, he has such larger than life expectations for both himself and the teams he plays for. The weight of the world on his shoulders, he never asked for any of it, yet he is the only player speaking up on important social issues, using his stature and the financial independence the game grants him to pursue life in a way that so few can. So many players, because of their station in life before the big deals, find themselves looking further and further inward as their careers ascend; Yao, perhaps a student of Buddhism, at least more so than myself, can see the nothingness in the self, the injuries, the inability to speak proper English, his freakish size, and instead work towards improving and educating the world that surrounds him.

When I was 17 some ignorant asshole was yelling at me and calling me Yao Ming while I was playing a Varsity Basketball game. Years later, I was playing pickup at Mercer County Park, and a group of aging Black men referred to me as Rafe Lafrentz. While playing for La Universidad Católica de Argentina, I was referred to as "uhhh, ehhh, ohhh, Alex" because the coach didn't really care to learn my actual name. Long story short, a healthy Yao, T-Mac and Artest yield a second round defeat.

Bo Shanks