Bloggin' to the Oldies: Rebirth of Slick

Now that real basketball has up started again (sort of), you might think that resorting to a Bloggin' to the Oldies is unnecessary, but talk of Kobe modifying his role has me reminiscing back to a pivotal moment in Kobe lore: Game 4 of the 2000 NBA Finals against the Indiana Pacers (box score).

Kobe had missed Game 3 and most of Game 2 with a sprained ankle, which was clearly still bothering him on June 14th. For most of regulation, he over-relied on his jump shot, fouled instead of moving his feet on D, and committed some pretty dumb turnovers. He still managed to find ways to help his team, because even at age 21 and feeling gimpy, he was still Kobe Bryant. But as far as the Kobe narrative is concerned, the first 51 minutes are only really relevant for the contrast they provide with the final 2.


Up 3 with a couple minutes left to go in the extra period, Shaq (and his 36 points and 21 boards) fouls out. Kobe gives a cocky grin and drills one over Reggie. Then pulls one of the more swagtastic moves ever, with the "I got this. Keep your cool" gesture that has become synonymous with rising to the occasion. Then proceeds to calmly drill another long 2 over Mark Jackson (shown above) before getting the game-winning tip with 6 seconds to go, putting the Pacers down 3-1.


Revisiting that sequence (which, thanks to the YouTube gods, you can do here), what strikes me most is how stoked Kobe appears that Shaq has fouled out. Phil, Shaq himself, and, most especially, John Salley? All pretty stunned and troubled by the development. Kobe? From the moment the ball's in his hand, clearly relishing the opportunity. I feel like the way this passage of NBA history has generally been interpreted is along similar lines as the "Magic, Starting Center" game: a young player put in a difficult situation, rising to the challenge, and coming up big when it counted most. Comparing the two though, while they were both plenty cocky, Magic at least was a willing participant in the savior-by-circumstance plotline; for Kareem's sake at least, he portrayed himself as thrust into a tough situation and forced to make the best of it. Perhaps I'm projecting too much here, but Kobe's big moment doesn't appear tinged with any of the, "This is a rough spot, but we're going to suck it up and overcome it" attitude that I think fans at the time and since have assumed had to have been underlying the situation.


To be clear, I by no means intend this as a knock on Kobe, nor am I trying to make any bold claims about the Shaq-Kobe dynamic that eventually led to the downfall. I'm strictly interested in this from the perspective of what it says about Kobe and his approach to the game. Even tracing back to his initial championship, it was clear that he was a cold-blooded killer who was dying to take over the game when it counts, without interference. Even losing in Tuesday's preseason game proved to be too much for him to stay confined to the facilitator role when he started jacking up shots in a desperate attempt to one-up Kelenna Azubuike in the 3rd quarter. Bottom line: Kobe might be able to sublimate his instincts for long stretches, but when it comes down to it he will always want to do the jugular-stomping himself, regardless of the circumstance.

While Kobe's maturation may have been the main motivation for revisiting this game, I was also interested if I could glean any insight about Austin Croshere and Derek Fisher's signings to our respective teams. Let me be the first to say: that Austin Croshere can play. How no one gave him a massive deal based exclusively on this playoff series is beyond me. I've already expressed how happy I am about the Fisher signing, but I guess it's worth noting that at age 25 he was a liability guarding Jackson and had to be replaced by the 36-year-old Brian Shaw. Now 33, he'll still be an upgrade from Smush for charges drawn alone, but Lakers fans (myself included) need to exercise caution in nostalgically embellishing his defensive prowess.


Also, I've come to the conclusion that this Pacers team is one of the more underhated teams of all time. I feel like they deserve so much more hatred than they seem to have attracted. Maybe they've been spared eternal scorn because a lot of their heroics came at the expense of the Knicks, but Reggie single-handedly should have made this team one of the most rooted-against teams of the era. What I don't understand, I've heard refs reference "pulling a Reggie," so they were clearly aware of his bullshit, yet he still was rewarded for creating contact in a way that I've never seen prior or since. Mark Jackson, while extremely solid in pretty much every way, would waste half the shot clock every other possession backing people down. Not exciting to watch. Then there's my, perhaps irrational, despise for Rik Smits, who I choose to blame for the devolution of the big man. For some reason I feel like I'd be more forgiving of his brand of oafishness had he been Eastern European rather than Western, but would need someone like Padraig to explain why I might make that distinction. (side note to Pacers fans: having rooted for this team does not prove that you aren't racist)



In other news, I've decided to informally dub the summer of '07 as the Summer of Sam Perkins. First he popped up in a nostalgic Forum Blue & Gold post, then at the always hilarious Blowtorch, before hitting the big time at True Hoop. To top it all off, I think he's showed up in more of NBAtv's "Greatest Games" this summer than any player save Jordan or Pippen. We've watched him with the Lakers, Sonics, and now Pacers, across a 10-year span, pretty much nailing clutch shots regardless of hair style, uniform, or body fat.

At some point later this week look out for my thoughts on what Glen Rice's role on this Laker team might inform us about this year's Celtics.

Bloggin' to the Oldies: Seize the Hour

It’s time once again for Bloggin’ to the Oldies, our series on classic NBA games and how they relate to today’s league. For this post, I’ll be looking at the 1991 Finals (specifically Games 1, 3, and 5) between the Lakers and Bulls. Some background for the uninitiated: In Michael Jordan’s first finals, LA won Game 1 on a Sam Perkins triple with 14 seconds left. The Bulls stormed back to win the next four contests, but many of them were close; Game 3 went to OT, and the Lakers were in Game 5 up until the final portion of the 4th.

I might as well start with the best player I’ve ever seen. I’ll save a dissection of Jordan’s exact game for an upcoming post (preview: it involves Kevin Durant)—for now, I’d like to talk about reactions to him. It’s interesting that Marv and Fratello never questioned Jordan’s credentials as the best player in the league. Magic, of course, received a lot of attention from the crew, too, but the general consensus seemed to be that it was only a matter of time before MJ would get his rings. Likewise, when Jordan missed a wide-open 17-footer at the end of Game 1 that would have won the game, the announcers said nothing about him choking. I can’t say how much of that reaction can be explained by MJ finally getting over the Detroit hump, and I know that Jordan already had a reputation for hitting clutch shots, but it’s worth noting just how much slack the announcers gave to someone who hadn’t won a championship at age 28. I doubt that would happen today, and, in fact, you could make an argument that LeBron gets (or at least got up until Game 5 of the Detroit series) unfair criticism for being a poor clutch performer despite having made several game-winners during the 06 Playoffs.

I could talk about Jordan forever, but the other Bulls deserve a huge amount of credit for winning that first championship. As you'd expect, that contribution starts with Scottie Pippen. A long discussion developed in the comments last week at FD about Pippen possibly being more important to the Bulls’ success than Jordan. Like I said in this post, I’m not ready to go that far, but, as Stop Mike Lupica explains, Pippen really doesn’t get enough credit for being how good he was. This was his fourth season, and, while his offensive skills weren’t fully developed yet, his defense is on another level compared to every wing playing today. The only moderately comparable player is Shawn Marion, but Pippen was much, much better in every defensive category. I can comfortably predict that we will never see a defensive tandem on the wings as impressive as Pippen and Jordan again. (I have too many Bulls games to talk about to go into full depth on Pippen right now. There’s a ton to say, though, so I’ll get to all of it eventually.)



I already talked about the 91 Lakers a bit here, but watching one game of this team doesn’t show off their most interesting quality. In that Warriors game, they played at an absolute breakneck speed, scoring close to 100 by the start of the 4th. In the Bulls series, with the same general lineup and substitution pattern, they played much more deliberately, waiting for the less experienced team to make mistakes. Honestly, these games closely resembled recent Spurs-Suns matchups in that Lakers tried to slow the athletically superior team down to a more manageable pace, relying on quality defensive rotations and ball control more than their legitimate scoring ability.

The Lakers might have only won one game, but they were close enough to win in the others that I watched. The fact that they were able to do that just weeks after playing at their top speed against the Warriors speaks to how versatile they were. From what I can tell, that versatility stemmed mostly from every starter’s excellent passing ability; if they needed a shot with the shot clock running down, they could find anyone with even a small opening. If Magic hadn’t contracted HIV, Showtime would’ve slowed down, but I’m willing to bet they would’ve made their fair share of finals.


This was clearly the Bulls’ moment, though. In the first game, they looked relatively unprepared for crunch time, but over the course of the series you can see them become more champion-like. When I use that term, I don’t mean that they got boring—they just looked incredibly comfortable in every situation. In Game 5, they executed much better down the stretch than the Lakers, which is surprising given the Lakers’ superior depth and experience.

A hero of the internet has posted the last few minutes of Game 5 and the entirety of Game 2 on YouTube. That’s a lot to watch, but it’s worth it if you have the time.

Miscellaneous notes on the series: In terms of jersey tightness, Magic was second only to Maurice Lucas. … I was pretty surprised by how impressive Vlade was at such a young age. The passing ability was there, as always, but he actually executed a spin off of Pippen from the high post that led into a free-throw line jumper. Related note: Vlade is the most Euro-looking Euro ever. He has taught Vlad Radmanovic well. … I remembered John Paxson as nothing more than a three-point specialist, but he was a pretty stellar all-around player, too. … The most shocking thing from this series, by far, was that Will Perdue was a generally solid contributor. In Game 1, he came in early, got a huge ovation from the crowd, and immediately scored a few baskets and blocked several shots. Marv couldn’t stop talking about how the Chicago crowd had completely embraced him. … With 10:40 left in the 4th of Game 1, the Lakers were up by 7. Jordan came in from his customary early-quarter rest and had a hand in the next ten points of the game, all of which occurred in two minutes. … AC Green was all energy at this point in his career. Nice to see him putting that sex drive to good use.

Bloggin' to the Oldies: A Rare and Different Tune

Time to turn back the clock once again with “Bloggin’ to the Oldies.” In this post, I’ll be looking at Game 6 of the 1977 Finals between the Portland TrailBlazers and Philadelphia 76ers. Some general background: This Blazers team has the same basic makeup as that described in David Halberstam’s Breaks of the Game, with Bill Walton, Maurice Lucas, and Lionel Hollins as the main pieces. The Sixers had one major star in Dr. J, although some other recognizable names like George McGinnis, Lloyd Free, Henry Bibby, and Doug Collins contribute, too. As for this particular game, the Blazers won in the final minute to close out the series. Walton rocked the box score with 20 points, 23 boards, eight blocks, and seven assists on his way to the Finals MVP award.

Although I’m now a Stanford guy, I was brought up a diehard UCLA fan, so watching Walton in his prime has been something I’ve wanted to do for quite a while. This game obviously provided me with that chance, and I must say that the unreal stat line above doesn’t tell the whole story. The points, rebounds, and blocks explain those aspects of Walton well enough—he’s a franchise center, and franchise centers control the paint—yet the passing is another story. Walton’s amazing passing abilities have been discussed before, but the centers of today so rarely make outstanding passes that Walton’s ability needs to be talked about in some detail. His ability to find cutters out of the post resembles that of Shaq (a tremendously underrated passer), except Walton did it much more often. At times, it looks like Walton passed based on instinct alone, although the rewatching plays on the DVR uncovers brief moments of recognition. Additionally, Walton fires outlet passes up the court faster than anyone around now, although everyone says that Wes Unseld topped him in the that regard.

Unfortunately, there’s no one currently in the NBA with the same kind of passing ability. However, Kevin Love, an incoming freshman at Walton’s alma mater, is said to possess freakish court vision for someone his size (6-9, 260 according to most lists, although word has it he dropped some weight). Anyone who watches UCLA regularly knows that—when they choose to do so—they run out on the break faster than anyone else in the Pac-10 (if not the country), so adding a phenomenal outlet passer can only help matters. Love’s skills become more intriguing when one watches the way the Blazers’ secondary players feed off of Walton’s versatility. Bottom line: I’m now officially scared shitless of UCLA next year, but I can’t wait to watch them.



I don’t want to single out Walton as the only terrific passer on the 77 Blazers, because every other regular made a few great dishes in transition or to a cutter from the wing or post. In theory, this team should be one of the most exciting teams ever: five guys, acting as a whole, throwing each other the ball simply because the other player had a great chance to score. Yet something about the non-Walton players constantly passing to cutters in the half court makes the whole operation seem rather systematic; I can only watch a wing pass to a man cutting through the lane so many times. I don’t mean to suggest that the Blazers were boring, or even less-than-exciting, but calling them one of the most exciting teams ever neglects the most important aspect of an exciting athlete: namely, that he does things we’ve never seen before.



The relative regularness of the secondary players in this game (apart from McGinnis, Lucas, and Hollins, who I’m sure I’d appreciate more if I watched multiple games) partly explains the relative rut the NBA found itself in before Magic and Bird burst onto the scene a few years later. Simply put, watching this game felt a lot like watching a college game, right down to the fans rushing the court at the end of the game. Outside of Walton and Dr. J, there was nothing particularly otherworldly about this game. When you get right down to it, that’s what makes the NBA as interesting as it is.

Random thoughts on the game: I feel stupid for not talking about Dr. J in greater detail in the main body of this post, particularly because he scored 40 points in the game. I must confess that I focused most of my attention on the Blazers during this game because of my Walton/UCLA connection. Honestly, when I saw that Dr. J had 40 I was pretty astonished. One obvious thing about his game is that he would still be a star today: the man rises faster than almost everyone playing now. … This game only makes me more confident in my earlier assertion that the NBA would have needed to introduce the three-point line if only to make avoid the clutter that comes with more athletic players. Even at this relatively early juncture in the athleticism boom of the modern era, players seemed to have less space to operate. … Nice to know that Brent Musburger has always been an atrocious announcer. Some of his worst moments: continually hyping the final round of the Kemper Open, as if it were a more important event than the deciding game of the NBA Finals; talking about the volume of the Portland crowd so much that viewers, who couldn’t hear the fans through the shoddy 70s audio equipment, must have thought he was exaggerating in order to make the game seem more exciting; and, worst of all, saying that the Blazers had the game won throughout the last two minutes even though it was usually a two-or-three-possession game. … Lloyd Free jumped unnaturally high on his shots. … In the first few possessions, Lucas trampled a few players, got tangled on the ground with Bibby for a few seconds, and knocked a player into a ref. … Jake Shuttlesworth ripped off his entire look from Dr. J. ... Someone needs to reprint Breaks of the Game.

Bloggin' to the Oldies: 40 Million Daggers

This post marks the second in our “Bloggin’ to the Oldies” series, for which I watch one of the “NBA’s Greatest Games” and both relate that game to the current NBA and revise common impressions of the players and style of play. Today, I’ll be talking about Game 2 of the 1991 Western Conference Semifinals between the Warriors and Lakers. Some brief background on the game: the Warriors won 125-124 in the final minute, tying the series, which clearly motivated the Lakers, who won the next three (two in Oakland) to close out Golden State. Chris Mullin went out of his mind to lead the Warriors, missing just a few shots attempts on his way to more than 40 points. Magic Johnson had around 40, too. (Unfortunately, I can't find a box score anywhere.)

As a Warriors fan, I came into this game most interested in how much Nellieball has changed over the years. Defensively, things look just about the same. The Warriors used an undersized starting lineup with Alton Lister at center and Mario Elie, Mitch Richmond, and Chris Mullin at the forward spots, requiring double-teams to the post and general swarm nearly identical to the defensive tactics that characterized last season’s team. Of course, all that running around led to a lot of open looks for the Lakers, but Nelson and the players seemed plenty content to let that happen if it meant for chances for running.

At the offensive end, the Run-TMC team looked like they had a plan in a way that the current team does not. I’m not sure that difference has anything to with the team’s actual game plan, though—I stress that it just looked that way. In reality, Hardaway, Richmond, and Mullin were so clearly leaders of the offense that they necessarily had to take more shots. If Nellie’s system works because it gives players opportunities to score, then the best players on the team would logically have more opportunities to score just because their skills allow them those chances. Stephen Jackson and Al Harrington, while very good, are not on the same level as Richmond and Mullin, so it makes sense that the current team would have a more balanced look. I’m sure that would have changed had Mullin been able to trade for Kevin Garnett.



Chris Mullin was a great player, and I’m sure he would have thrived in any system, but the nature of his amazing performance in this game is part of what has me so excited about Marco Belinelli. Mullin hit an unbelievable number of his shots in this game, but most of them were the sort of looks that Nellieball creates for everyone. Last year’s Warriors team didn’t have an objectively great shooter; Jackson, Baron, Barnes, Harrington, and J-Rich can all make them fairly regularly, yet none would ever participate in a three-point shooting contest. Marco, however, has the chance to be one of the best shooters in the NBA. Additionally, while Mullin hit a decent amount of shots with hands in his face, he did so because of his extraordinarily quick release, and Marco has the same type of trigger. I doubt that he will ever get to Mullin’s level, but all Marco really has to do to be a valued member of the team is hit open shots, and there should be a ton of those.

Moving on to the Lakers, I now better understand why Jerry West’s reputation as a GM is as strong as it is. I always knew he did a great job putting together the 80s Lakers, but looking at this team—the second wave of the Lakers dynasty had Magic not contracted HIV—it’s clear that West had a clear vision with this group, as well. The frontline of Vlade Divac, Sam Perkins, and James Worthy was incredibly versatile, capable of scoring from the perimeter or post, running or playing a slower game, etc. This is something I’ll talk about more when I get to the Bulls/Lakers series from the same year, but it’s unreal that the Lakers could play such a fast-paced game against the Warriors and then beat the Bulls in the first game of the finals by slowing things down with the exact same lineups on the floor. It would’ve been interesting to see how long the Lakers could have kept up their regular runs to the finals with Magic still playing. Alas.


It bears noting that the Warriors won this game because of a ridiculously questionable foul call on Elden Campbell with three seconds left. Elie grabbed the board, Campbell got his arm tangled, and some bozo zebra called the foul. The Lakers lose, fans have to watch free throws instead of a potential game-winner, and an amazingly entertaining game comes down to the referees instead of the players. Referees seemed to be more consistent than they are now, in general, but it’s nice to know that they’ve always sucked in some areas.

Some random notes on the game: The score was 99-97 Warriors after three quarters. More evidence that a Suns/Warriors playoff series would have been the greatest thing ever. … I’m pretty sure Tim Hardaway’s early years will somehow get lost in the shuffle as the years go by, but, like Kevin Johnson, at least those who saw him will remember. … There are few sights that make me as happy as that of Sarunas Marciulonis barreling into the lane. He’s the reason I get upset about the Spurification of Ginobili. … I’m not sure there will ever be a player again like this incarnation of James Worthy, a small forward who spends a healthy chunk of his time in the post. … The Warriors could definitely use a guy like Tyrone Hill, a reasonably athletic power forward who doesn’t really need to do anything other than rebound and defend. I expect bigger things out of Brandan Wright eventually, but maybe he can be that type of guy for the next year or two. ... Jack Nicholson attended the game sporting dark, slicked-back hair, a moustache, and a dark suit. He looked more like Dan Aykroyd from the old SNL bad toy sketches than the coolest guy in the world.

New Skin for the Old Ceremony

This post marks the start of a new feature on Plissken, one I’ve titled “Bloggin’ to the Oldies” in a delicious pun. Essentially, I (and possibly Carter, too) will watch one of the many NBA’s Greatest Games we have on our DVR and write about our impressions. Because this kind of exercise has the potential to devolve into a bunch of comments reiterating that Michael Jordan was really good at scoring, I’ll do my best to relate the style of play and players’ games to the NBA of today. This feature is still a work in progress, though, so please feel free to comment with some constructive criticism.

Today, I’ll tackle Game 7 of the 1969 NBA Finals between the Lakers and Celtics. This game doubled as the last game for both Sam Jones and Bill Russell, although the announcers’ reactions at the end of the game suggest that only Jones had announced that he was playing for the last time.

Unfortunately, NBATV massacred this game by only showing the fourth quarter. For a channel that usually does a great job with replays, it seems odd that they’d choose to show just one quarter of a game featuring Bill Russell, Wilt Chamberlain, Elgin Baylor, Jerry West, John Havlicek, and Sam Jones. As far as I can tell, this game’s also the only one from that era in the regular rotation. This choice wouldn’t be so bad if Wilt hadn’t hurt his knee midway through the quarter; essentially, viewers are robbed of watching one of the greatest players in league history. Did the tape get destroyed in a mysterious vault fire? Were the Pete Maravich dribbling drills on after the game really necessary? (Okay, those are actually pretty cool.)



What’s here is actually quite interesting, though. The most obvious thing about the game is that there’s no three-point line. Oddly enough, offenses still operated mostly the same way—or at least the way they do when teams have excellent post scorers. The Lakers regularly worked it inside to Wilt with the intention of sending it back outside for open jumpers. The clearest difference, though, is that those shooters set up much closer to the basket. Thus, you get situations like this one: Wilt passes out from the block to Jerry West at the free throw line. Would that ever happen now? It wasn’t even an odd angle, and there were four defenders in our right around the paint on the play. With no three-point line, everything happens in a much tighter space.

I’m no fan of what three-pointers have done to current players’ midrange games (or lack thereof), but watching this game made it clear to me that the NBA currently needs the three-point line if it wants offenses to score. Today’s extremely athletic players simply could not play in a confined space; defenders would roam all over the place and block many more shots. Teams likely would have adjusted and moved outside, but it’s still way too tempting to stay close to the basket when there’s no incentive to shoot from outside. If the purists got their wish, I think they’d see a very ugly brand of basketball for quite a while.


Referees still appeared to control the game way too much in 1969: Russell, Wilt, Jones, and Havlicek each had five fouls with about 7:30 left in regulation, and Sam Jones fouled out thirty seconds later. As such, no Wilt/Russell banging inside, and the legitimately thrilling (and series MVP) Jones didn’t get to finish out his career on the floor.

Jones, by the way, was the biggest revelation for me. I’d always heard about him as an important member of the Celtics championship teams, but history seems to have put him a notch or below Havlicek, Cousy, and Russell in the Boston pantheon, subsequently leaving him out of the history books for the casual fan. This might be an odd thing to say about one of the 50 Greatest, but I wish he got talked about more often and hope I get the chance to see more of his games.


The Wilt injury made it nearly impossible to see his full game (damn you NBATV!), although the few minutes I saw made it clear that he’d be able to hang with any franchise center of the modern era. Watching guys like Wilt make it clear that while the game has changed a lot in the last forty years, it’s still basically played the same way.

Bill Russell is a more difficult case, although I fully understand that I’m fairly ignorant on this case. Russell’s defense was clearly awesome, particularly on one play in the last minute during which he forced Mel Counts (Wilt’s replacement) to drive behind the basket and force up a hideous scoop shot. Russell’s offense was another story. On two separate occasions, he made a decent move to get clear looks from two feet, and in both he cases he bricked each attempt. This might seem like blasphemy, and please correct me if I’m just being stupid, but at this point in his career Russell seemed to have the same offense/defense split as Ben Wallace. Or maybe he just never worked on offense because he had Jones and Havlicek there to do most of the scoring.

Perhaps the worst part of having NBATV truncate the game was that I didn’t get a great feel for Jerry West, Elgin Baylor, and John Havlicek. All three were clearly very good (and West and Havlicek’s unreal stat lines from the series prove it), but I can’t make any intelligent comments on any of them.

As a Warriors fan, I was very interested to see Don Nelson. Watching him play, one can see why he’s so good at teaching players to shrug off their mistakes. During one offensive possession, Nellie took the ball at the top of the key facing the near sideline so that he was looking right at Jerry West, who already had defensive position. Nelson then ran right into West, executing one of the worst charges I’ve ever seen. Instead of getting down on himself, though, Nellie hit a tough jumper with a hand in his face on the very next possession. Just goes to show that there’s always some continuity in the NBA.

A true prince of the tubes has uploaded the fourth quarter of this game to YouTube. Embedding's been disabled, but check out these links to Part 1 and Part 2.