2009/02/06

Something to Ponder

Yes, I'm up early on my off day. Yes, I might have a gig in the future. Yes, I don't have my guitar with me to audition and it's missing the high E. None of these things really matter after I read this: Tyronn Lue is headed to the Orland Magic for Keith Bogans.

FFFFFFUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKK


This basically puts two of the most inept, least athletically inclined, over the hill pg's in the league on the same team; I can imagine Ian Eagle haunting my sleep in the coming months with his lurid details of another late-season magic loss where they couldn't get the ball over the halfcourt line in the customary 8 seconds the referees (maybe not Donaghy) allow. Many of you know that this trade happened because Jameer Nelson tore his labrum recently; he was having a career year, and I'm a sucker for Naismith Award winners who don't suck (see teammate J.J. Reddick for the antithesis of Jameer Nelson). There could not be a more star-crossed pair of lovers in the Eastern Conference elite than former St. Joseph Hawks Delonte West and our man Jameer. This might sound strange the more I think about it, but it was really badass that he would bring his young son to games as a senior and then torch the other team for like 40 points; admittedly, I was watching on TV, but I did catch a live game against conference rivals Xavier (David West era) that was riveting.

So let's break this down, Meximan style, since you gotta sell what you know, and I know all about unathletic, undynamic distributors.

Before I get too salty, it's worth noting that Lue was one of the few free-agent pg's available with legit playoff experience (playing rotation minutes on a championship team is certainly respectable, and he did play quality defense against Iverson [except for the game 1 embarrassment] in 2001. There was talk in the off-season that former running mate, The Big Cactus (when you think about the line ask Kobe how my asshole taste juxtaposed to this desert nom-de-guerre, it's kind of funny, I guess...), Shaquille O'neal openly lobbied for him to sign with the Phoenix Suns; my guess is that Shaq saw Goran Dragic look like a poor man's Beno Udrih with no explosiveness.

Anthony Johnson is one of those NBA guys who just seems so fucking happy to be playing at all; this energy could be infectious if there was some dynamism to go along with it. Surely he is a capable ball-handler, but he lacks the quicks, the ups and the lateral range to defend a Mo Williams for 6 or 7 (likely 5 with the way things are going) games in a playoff series. I remember watching Johnson play under Byron Scott/Lawrence Frank with the Nets, and wondering where the hell Scoonie Penn or any other number of people who were good enough to play in the NBA were hiding. So, I don't dislike the guy at all, he just doesn't seem like an NBA player; I suppose, economically, someone who makes something near the veteran minimum is a great guy to have when he actually earns his salary.

So, maybe Turkoglu can continue his slashing big-man thing that he is slowly perfecting; minimal love from the Free Darko guys, which I never understood. Maybe Courtney Lee will outplay George Hill in the NBA finals. Maybe Dwight Howard still has no offensive game. Nonetheless, their point guard situation got solidifed with this trade; solidly terrible, that is.

On his way out to the frozen tundra of Milquetoast Milwaukee (The Good Land) is one of my favorite Kentucky alums, Keith Bogans. Dude became somewhat expendable with the signing of Pietrus in the off-season, but is a solid rotation guy; the sort of player that if you were ten rounds deep in a video game season draft, that you'd definitely pick him up and find a way to get him 8 shots a game. Without Michael Redd, the Bucks are in need of scoring; maybe it comes from Charlie Villanueva's breakout campaign, or Ramon Sessions will continue to hush the critics who say he isn't an NBA starter, maybe Luke Ridnour will come back from his most recent concussion and say, "I'm mad as hell, and I'm not gonna take it anymore!" Richard Jefferson will dive deeper in to his Keats anthology that VC slipped in to his bags when he was packing up after the trade. Joe Alexander, awkwardly peering over RJ's shoulder, will get a fresh back of the hand for his peeping tom ways.

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