Regression To The Mean

Posted by Sean Doyle

Chart Graphic by Sean & Colin Doyle

In his last seven pay-per-view appearances (1)*, Ryback has a 0-6-1 record. This tidy performance converts into a 0.0 winning percentage. In other words Ryback doesn't just lose, no sir, he loses with a devoted consistency that would make Barry Horowitz himself, blush.

Yes, yes, of course, we all know pro wrestling is a work.  From the carny days to the current corporate variation, wrasslin' always been a morality play staged with oddballs and strongmen, played with pulled punches and chair shots.  Nobody "wins" in the Olympic sense. However, wins and losses are a bit like equity.  Each "win" bestows credibility, while each "loss" tarnishes it (and yes, perhaps not to an equivalent degree - as cheap heel (villain) wins are a common place multipartite strategy used to protect the loser (babyface), draw heat on the winner (heel) all while extending the narrative to it's inevitable blowoff conclusion).  Given this structural imperative, I feel comfortable devaluing losses relative to wins to say a .75 or three-fourths of a whole, level. (2)*

More on this later. (3)*

Even within the walls of this debased paradigm, Ryback is still lacking credibility.  First introduced to us as an indestructible monster, Ryback made his way through a series of slack-jaw jobbers, rag-dolling them and becoming a minor YouTube sensation in the process.  From there he leapfrogged the obligatory mid-card title run (I.C. or  U.S.) and found himself square in the main event opposite WWE Champion and future Hall of Famer CM Punk.

Whatever equity was created in those first few squash-filled (and fun) months was about to be squandered over an unprecedented losing streak that stretches 8 pay-per-views and counting.  At this point, barring a major reclamation project, Ryback is little more than the American coequal of The Great Khali. (That is to say, a mid-card cartoon monster with just enough credibility to sell action figures but not nearly enough stroke to sellout buildings.)

One wonders if this was McMahon's strategy all along.  The Chairman of The Board loves to puff up monster heels (and faces, to a lesser extent) and then serve them up, fat with hype, to an established hero or veteran baddie of his choice.  It's a time honored sacrifice in the business and a much needed one, (4)* as a superstar is only as great as his/her competition.

And yet, one can't help but feel the nagging sting of buyer's remorse with Mr. 'Back.  Only six months ago the Post-Apocalyptic Turtle from Texas was the hottest act in the sport.  Arena's across the world were larded with lively FEED ME MORE!!! chants, with each Monday night refrain driving a tick louder on the noise-o-meter than the last.  The top spot on the card seemed all but perfunctory then, for the man born Ryan Reeves, and that's about the precise moment he got lost on the Road To Wellville...


Piloting a rising star's ascension is always tricky, particularly in the Information Age.  Fans are savvy to all the old hooks, and weary of them, all while paradoxically yearning to be hooked at every turn.  It is a modern Promoter's nightmare, this Brave New World, a non-linear multiverse of irony layered upon "reality" with a measured dose of smark, and all threaded together by the (occasionally) oppositional forces of dramatic correctness and profit seeking. The superstars who best adapt to this emerging standard will succeed big - think: Daniel Bryan, AJ Lee, The Shield, Damien Sandow, and Punk.  These performers are amongst the gifted few who can go modern or traditional without losing a step.  Listen, on a long enough time-lime, we are all hipsters. It is just a matter of who gets there first.

Ryback, by comparison, is a throwback. He's an old school beast who isn't defined by his move-set or wink-wink promo skills, but by his ability to destroy, and destroy with efficiency. In that regard, he's pure traditional.  And it's a tradition crafted on the value of appearing eternally invincible (think: early Mike Tyson, Clubber Lang, Goldberg, Heel Andre, H.O.P. Mark Henry, Ivan Drago, Typhon, Doomsday, or Larry King). It's within the holds of this hard mythos where the cold arithmetic of wins and losses reemerges, thus regaining its value.

Which brings us back to 0-6-1.

If your character's sole raison d'etre lies within it's imperishable nature, and the whole "what you see is what you get," swag, then what we get had better be greater than 0-6-1 in money matches, which is the mathematical equivalent of fuck all.  Now Ryan Reeves doesn't book the matches, but he does wear the boots.  He'd do well to add some depth behind those grunts.  Ryback has the look and intensity of a superstar, but unless he discovers his "inner man" he may find himself on the high ash heap of history with Vince McMahon's other broken toys.


DUMMY NOTES:

*(1) Not counting the Royal Rumble match, where technically there are no individual losers.

*(2) Why not devalue wins instead? Because lets face it, a win is a win, and we all love winners. In the uniquely American cultural commitment to victory, a little hustle (mild rule bending) is to be respected (albeit begrudgingly so).

*(3) I've often wondered just what a statistical revolution (a la Sabermetrics) would do to the traditional storytelling models and business imperatives of "sports entertainment." As both a simulated sport, and a long form dramatic narrative, pro wrestling would appear to have conflicting mandates.  But what if a sharpened understanding of the relative value of "wins" and "losses," winning percentage, reign length, ppv streaks, and the like, could lead to a better product overall?

*(4) Just ask any heel who worked for the WWF from 1984-1991. Or any of The Italian Stallion's opponents from Rocky's II-V.  Or any of Taylor Swift's ex-boyfriends...

We Are Back From The Dead

Two years to the day!! More pseudo-intellectual hipsterrific redundancies to come!!! Stay tuned. Or don't...

Peace.

4th And Gone: The Great Narrative.

Posted by Sean Doyle, June 14, 2011.

Photo Courtesy of DeShawn Stevenson.

On July the 8th, 2010 in a moment of pure media infamy, LeBron James announced his "decision."  Decked out in his best blipster-hipster farm gear and sporting a barely cloaked smile, James announced to the world that he was "taking his talents to South Beach."  It was a deliciously devious declaration and instantly transformed the likable James into the biggest heel in sports.

CUT TO:

On June the 12, 2011 in a moment of pure athletic defeat, LeBron entered the media room following a bitter Game 6 loss to the Dallas Mavericks in the NBA finals.  Glassy eyed and shaken, and sporting a barely cloaked frown, James announced to the world that "all the people that were rooting on me to fail, at the end of the day, they have to wake up tomorrow and have the same life that they had before they woke up today."  It was an acrimoniously acidic announcement and permanently transformed the unlikable James into heretofore unseen levels of pure villainy.

In between those bombastic bookends, lays the stuff of great legend....

Part I:  Talk Is Cheap 

There are many ways to say "fuck you!" Like, "I'm taking my talents to South Beach," or "How's my Dirk Taste?" But some essential communications are of the non-verbal variety. Coming into Game 6, Dirk Nowitzki had outscored "King" James 52 - 11 in the 4th quarter. Think about that for a second.  By the primary metric by which we judge them, Dirk had been 5x as good or 500% better then the man who proclaims himself basketball royalty. When it really matters (And nothing matters more than 4th quarter performance in the NBA Finals. Nothing! Particularly for future Hall of Famers. It is the stage of stages.) Lebron played hide and seek. That is, he hid on offense and defense (setting an NBA record for biggest drop in PPG from the regular season to the Finals at - 8.9) oft dishing to a decrepit Juwan Howard (JUWAN HOWARD!?!?!) in clutch moments all while getting beat easily on d. Thus, the big German said "fuck you" to LeBron without uttering a single dirty word.

Part II: Age and Guile Beat Youth, Innocence, and A Bad Haircut.

Ok I stole that title from one of my favorite humorists, P.J. O'Rourke.  Nevertheless, it works just fine here. The striking sight of 37-year-old Jason Kidd whipping up and down the hardwood dishing and swishing like a man half his age whilst baby legs 'Bron-Bron played peek-a-boo with Mario Chalmers was more than enough to convince me that this series was over by game 5.  You have to want a championship, not just feel that your South Beach talent deserves one.

Add 37-year-old Kidd to 32-year-old MVP Nowitzki, 33-year-old Shawn Marion, 34-year-old Brian Cardinal, and 33-year-old Jason Terry and you have the makings of a fine senior league squad.  But like very good wine this group just got better with age. 

Now, there has been some debate as to whether or not Dallas won this series or Miami just simply lost it.  For the record I am in the former camp.  Dirk, Jet, Kidd, JJ and the rest played like true warriors and beat Miami straight up. No excuses.

Part III: Stop Selling And Start Buying.

I could sit here all day and rap my keyboard silly with LBJ insults. Millions of people are doing so now and perhaps rightfully so.  The truth is for all the hyperbolic hoo-ha LeBron James remains one of the most gifted athletes of all time. He's built like a power forward, passes like an elite point, and runs like a super speedy two guard.  What he isn't yet is a winner. He doesn't have that Michael Jordan or Larry Bird gene. For 8 years we've been sold on the grand "King" James narrative by Nike, ESPN, the NBA, Worldwide Wes, and by the man himself.  Frankly, we are having buyer's remorse.  It's clear now that we are not looking at another Michael Jordan. Not even close.  Instead of looking to MJ, LeBron should look to Dirk.  Dirk never stopped working and evolving his game till that trophy was in his hands.  Perhaps one day, with a lot of hard work and humility, LeBron can be the next Nowtzki.  Now there is a story line that I can buy.

Raiders Of The Fan's Wallets

Posted by Sean Doyle, March 22, 2011.

Image By Colin & Sean Doyle.

We are now 16 games deep into the Melo Era and my scorecard reads 7-9. That's .438 basketball folks.  Hardly worthy of the hyperbolic hoo-ha we were force fed by the Garden machine.  Now don't get me wrong I was for the Carmelo trade.  I believed (and still believe) that having two stud assets like Stat and Melo flowing synchronically in their prime years was the Knicks' best chance at glory.  Moreover, I'm the patient sort, more than willing to let these ballers adjust their unique bent to the manic rush of the D'Antoni system.  Where my patience does wane however is at the lusty cash grab being orchestrated by Garden boss "Big" Jimmy Dolan.

Now, normally I'd refrain from criticizing a fellow Irishman this close to St. Paddy's Day (even one as grievous as himself). But jeez Jimbo, a 50% increase in ticket prices! The Knicks were already the most overpriced ticket in entertainment. (and I say that as a lifelong fan)  Now we're just in silly town!  Look Jimbo, I know you have to pay for that "glorious" $800 million dollar renovation to MSG somehow.  But picking the pockets of your long suffering but intensely loyal fan base? Well, that's just unconscionable.

Last night we fell to the championship caliber Boston Celtics. No harm there except for the fact it was our sixth loss in seven games.  (1-6 in our last 7 games, that's not just bad, that's Isiah Thomas bad). What's more galling is that four of those six losses were to losing teams. (Detroit .357, Milwaukee .406, Indiana .437 twice...TWICE!!).  That's right we are not just losing, we are losing to shit teams with devoted consistency.  Ordinarily I'd say I was embarrassed but after the last decade I'm numbed to such emotive postures.


Madison Square Garden's publicly traded stock (MSG) was initially boosted by the Carmelo trade, rising some 10% in the giddy days that followed. However, as you can see by the chart below the stock quickly fell back to Earth.  What caused this sharp redaction to the mean?  Was it the Knicks' mediocre play?  Or the swift and negative reaction to Dolan's cash grab?  Or perhaps institutional investors just balked at backing a multi-billion dollar corporation fronted by an enigmatic 26-year old named "Melo."

Furthermore, the Knicks have a roster completely lacking in size and toughness in the middle.  (They are either using Ronny Turiaf, a back-up power forward or Sheldon Williams, a third-string power forward as starting center) They are soft defensively, allowing 105.5 points per game, good for 3rd in the league.  They have absolutely no chemistry. None!  This I blame on Carmelo, who has deferred to neither  Stoudemire's leadership nor D'Antoni's coaching system.  Right now they are truly an unwatchable mess.

If Dolan wants to bleed his fanbase dry to pay for his shiny new luxury boxes the least he could do is wait to see if Carmelo actually makes the Knicks any better. 

The Brooklyn Nets: An Alternative History

Posted by Sean Doyle, March 7, 2011.

Image by Sean & Colin Doyle

"Dont rely on chance..."
                                           - Old Russian Proverb.

On May 18th of last year, the New Jersey Nets entered the NBA draft lottery with a 25% chance of winning the top pick. This percentage was tops amongst the 14 teams participating in this annual "losers" lottery.  After suffering through a nightmarish 12-70 record in the '09-10 regular season many felt the Nets were destined (and deserving) to win the lottery and it's golden ticket, Kentucky's John Wall.  Unhappily though, the dark clouds which have long followed this luckless organization were encircling the studio that evening.  The Washington Wizards, with barely a 10% chance of victory, won the draft lottery.  In that instant, the fate of many organizations, players, and cities was forever changed.  And none more so than the New Jersey Nets.  But what if the balls had bounced differently?  What if Prokhorov and Jay-Z had won the day?  I contend that getting John Wall may have set the stage for something quite special for those hard luck Nets. So here's my timeline for an alternative history...

May 18, 2010.
Mikhail Prokhorov could barely contain his glee!  The rangy Ruskie, not known for his outward displays of emotion, was beaming.  He waved his cyclopean fists in the air, flopping about as he fought off an eager grin.  "Ves! Vess!!!" he shouted, his Russian crushing his English.  The Nets had won the NBA draft lottery!  Deputy Commissioner Adam Silver announced this and then fleetly exited stage right leaving Mr. Prokhorov in all his inelegant glory.  It was another lucky step for the towering tycoon in a lifetime marked by them.  Offstage, Jay-Z had a laugh about his partner's impropriety.  Said Jay to a friend, "I've never even seen him smile before..."


June 9, 2010.
ESPN's Chris Broussard is reporting that John Calipari has agreed to a five year $55 million dollar deal to become the Head Coach/ GM of the New Jersey Nets.  This will likely reunite Calipari with John Wall whom the Nets are all but guaranteed to select with the first pick in the NBA Draft later this month.  Many insiders feel that Calipari is being offered the job because he is close with LeBron James.  William Wesley, otherwise known as "Worldwide Wes," is telling insiders that this hiring will go a long way towards "swaying the King come signing day."

June 24, 2010.
"And with the first pick in the 2010 NBA Draft, the New Jersey Nets select John Wall from the University of Kentucky!"


July 1, 2010.
The Nets contingent arrives at the LRMR office in Cleveland. Amongst those repping the Nets are Majority owner Mikhail Prokhorov, minority owner Jay-Z and his wife Beyonce, new Head Coach/GM John Calipari, and #1 draft pick John Wall.  "It is certainly a star studded group to say the least,"said an anonymous source.

Prokhorov's pitch goes something like this: I have heard the rumors that you are leaning towards signing with Miami. Look, New York is the number one media and sports market in the country with a greater urban population of 18.2 million people compared with only 1.1 million in the greater urban population of Miami. We are 18x bigger than Miami and at least a 100x more important to the global economy!  Miami is a small and weak sports market. I am the wealthiest NBA owner with a net worth of over $20 billion dollars. If you truly aspire to be a billionaire it will only happen in New York and only through me, and I will make it happen. We have by far the best core of young talent...Brook Lopez, Devin Harris, and John Wall, and tons of draft picks and cap space going out for many, many years. We have your favorite Head Coach in John Calipari, a proven winner.  We have Jay-Z, who is the biggest star in music and his wife, Beyonce, who together know everybody in Entertainment and can get a thousand projects launched for you. We have the cap space this year to add you and Chris Bosh. This would mean a starting five of  Lopez (C), Bosh (PF), LeBron (SF), Devin Harris (SG), John Wall (PG). An all-star at every spot and in my opinion the best starting five in the game. Miami does have Dwayne Wade but nothing else. Would Miami trade Wade for Lopez, Harris, and Wall? Of course they would. In a New York minute!  Three stars for one superstar, you make that trade a hundred times out of a hundred!  Oh, and by the way we are opening a brand new state of the art Arena that will be the very best in the game in the hippest part (Brooklyn) of the greatest city in the history of the Earth. To me LeBron, this is the easiest decision you will ever have to make.

Image by Colin & Sean Doyle.


July 7, 2010.
Chris Bosh announces he has signed a max contract with the New Jersey Nets. Nets point guard John Wall leaves B.E.S.T and signs an exclusive deal with LRMR, LeBron's marketing company. The speculation begins!!


July 8, 2010.
LeBron informs Cavs owner Dan Gilbert of his intention to sign with the Nets in a heartfelt tear-filled phone call. This news leaks to the press creating an absolute frenzy.  When LeBron informs Prokhorov of his original intention to announce the signing on a primetime TV special thus breaking the hearts of his fellow native Clevelanders and ruining his brand in the process, the sturdy Russian puts the kibosh on that dippy mess. "That's the stupidiest fucking thing I've ever heard," remarked Prokhorov, adding "remember what Buffet said...'It takes 20 years to build a reputation and five minutes to ruin it." Instead he instructs LeBron to call Gilbert and do this the "honorable way."

July 9, 2010.
9 p.m. Eastern: LeBron gives a subdued interview with Jim Grey at his home in Cleveland discussing his decision to sign with the Nets. Also there are former teammates Mo Williams and Anderson Varejao. "I've invited Mo and Andy here because they are family and I care about them. I wanted to do this the right way. I love Cleveland, and I love it's people. But the opportunities in New York with this growing organization are just too great. I will always cherish my seven years here and my friendship with Dan Gilbert," remarked a notably somber LeBron James. The press is surprisingly positive for LeBron with most national sportswriters (save for Cleveland) agreeing with his decision and with the way he conducted himself. LeBron's Q Score, already the highest in history, actually grows by 6%.

Image Courtesy of Katchop.com.

October 26, 2010.
Opening night in the NBA.  The Nets beat the Celtics 107-99 behind a 33 point 7 rebound 9 assist 2 steal performance by LeBron James. Rookie John Wall debuts with 14 points and five assists. Bosh chips in with 24 points and 13 rebounds.  Head Coach John Calipari announces after the game, "this is the start of something really special."


To be continued...

The Cavalier Exile of Baron Von Munchesalot.

Posted by Sean Doyle, March 6, 2011.

Image by Sean & Colin Doyle

We'll always have the KIA, Baron...

After a salty six-year sojourn to the western territories, the rotund Baron has been exiled.  His old nemesis the vile Viscount Donald Sterling hath banished his former charge to the port city of Cleve. Baron, a man of epic proportions (and appetites), who grew his considerable frame whilst a Clipper captain is said to be chapfallen over the disbarment.  Said the Plump Baron, "Woe is me! For my feasting days in the Angelic Commonwealth have topped off!  I now take my yearning goblet to the land of Cleve!  Beware all ye bread houses for I am a man whose gluttony is legend!!"


Beware, indeed.

So Long Anthony Randolph, We Hardly Knew Ye!

Posted by Sean Doyle, February 1, 2010.

Picture by Sean & Colin Doyle

Indeed your dancing days are done
Oh (Anthony) I hardly knew ye
                                                    - Old Irish Folksong


In the summer of 2010, the Knicks traded their star player David Lee to the Golden State Warriors for three players, the most prominent of which was Anthony Randolph. (The other two were Ronny Turiaf and Kelenna Azubuike, thrown in for salary cap purposes.) At the time, Randolph was considered the second biggest "get" of the 'Bockers offseason and had many NYC hoop aficionados buzzing about his singular game. As a power forward with an uncommon skill set he was revered by many perceptive NBA observers.  Bill Simmons listed Randolph along with LeBron, Wade, Paul, Duncan, Kobe, Durant, and Howard as one of only eight players on his "There's no way I'm missing them if they're in town" list. That is heady company when you consider every one of those players is a near certain first ballot Hall of Famer, and at least three of them (LeBron, Kobe, Duncan) are top ten all time players!

So just how did Randolph fall so far so fast? Many theories abound...

Theory #1:  20 Games.
According to Coach Mike D'Antoni it takes about 20 games for a player to adjust to the pace of the Knicks' offense. Therefore given the fitful nature of Randolph's feast or famine game the Knicks just couldn't risk putting him out there for a quarter season while he adjusted his unique skill set to the stylings of the infamous "7 seconds or less" offense.

Theory #2:  It's The Attitude, Stupid.
When Randolph first entered the NBA, he often butted heads with Warriors head coach Don Nelson. (Nelson, who by the way has quite an enormous head. I know this because I once sat directly behind Nellie and the visitors bench at a Knicks-Warriors game and requested to be moved up to the nosebleeds so I could get a better view of the action. That cranium is so immense I still have sweat-strewn nightmares about it. But I digress...)*   However, when he came to the Knicks last summer, Randolph was quoted as saying, "It's all on me right now. If I don't succeed it's my fault. It's not on anybody else." Hardly sounds like a hard case right?

Theory #3: The Hyperbole Factor.
Perhaps we as fans just got ahead of ourselves.  It wouldn't be the first time. (Think Darius Miles) We hoopsters often go ga-ga for the "Undiscovered Country," that elusive multi-positional, omnidimensional, raw heap of super-potential prospect who will pass like Stockton, bound like Rodman,  shoot like Miller, guard like Artest, all while playing point-center on his tippy-tippy toes.  Maybe Randolph was just another long-on-potential, short-on-ability prospect who we badly over-hyped. Or maybe he's just a good all-around baller lost in system that doesn't allow him reach his full potential.

Theory #4: Respect The 'Stache.
Mike D'Antoni likes his rotations tight and closed. Just ask Nate Robinson, Larry Hughes, Roger Mason, Al Harrington, Andy Rautins, Tim Mozgov, Jordan Hill, etc.  It takes a lot to break into a D'Antoni rotation.  If you don't show Coach something, you ain't getting in and that's that.

In the final analysis, it's probably some combination of all four theories, and then some.  While we now lament never witnessing a Randolph dunk on the hallowed floor of the Garden, sending us fans into a tizzy of ecstatic joy, we should appreciate the fellow who was a throw-in in the deal and now has become an indispensable stalwart of the Knicks rotation...Ronny Turiaf, this bud's for you.

American Idle Redux?

Posted by Sean Doyle, January 22, 2010.

So let me get this straight.  Brian Cashman was against the signing of Rafael Soriano, but for the signing of Carl Pavano?  I see.  Cash wanted nothing to do with the best AL reliever of 2010 (45 Saves, 1.73 ERA, 0.80 WHIP, 57 K in 62 Innings) but was willing to bring back arguably (not from me) the worst Yankee in modern history (and by modern history I mean since they dropped the ol' Highlander team name.)  Say what?

By now we all know the sordid tale.  Pavano inked a fat $40 million dollar deal in the cold winter of 2004 and proceeded to start 26 out of an expected 128 games (26 out of 128!!) over the lifetime of the contract.  This Anti-Gehrig-esque performance* earned Carl the ire of teammates and fans alike. Even Derek Jeter, everybody's best friend, confronted Pavano about his utter lack of heart. In all my years as a Yankee fan I cannot think of one man so eagerly detested by the core fan base. He's like Pedro Martinez, Cliff Lee, Curt Schilling, and Larry Lucchino mixed together with all the charm of a late night New York City cab driver.  Me thinks Cash better lay off the hash!

Could you imagine the press conference? A ruddy faced Randy Levine introducing Pavano to a dumbfounded press corps all the while avoiding strong eye contact with every person there.  Hell, I'd buy a press pass just to swim about in that awkward mess.

* Pavano was paid $40 million dollars over four years.  He only made 26 starts (out of a possible 128) thus earning an average of  $1.53 million per start. To make matters worse he only won 9 of those 26 starts, meaning he earned an average of $4.4 million per victory.  That has to be some kind of all-time record for sucky-ness.

Unrequited Love

Posted by Sean Doyle, January 19, 2011.

Image Courtesy of Romanian Graffiti.

And so, the bold journey concludes.  New Jersey is no longer pursuing Carmelo Anthony.  This awkward one-sided affair had to end sooner or later.  After turning down the amorous flirtations of a Russian billionaire for several weeks now, Melo has decided that his wandering heart only belongs to one tri-state franchise.  The Nets confirmed this today when owner Mikhail Prokhorov declared the potential deal dead.  "There comes a time when a prize is simply too expensive. I am instructing our team to walk away from the deal, and the meeting that was supposed to be held by our management in Denver with Carmelo is hereby canceled," announced Prokhorov this evening. Thank God! Melo didn't want to play in Newark, or break ground in the hoops holy land of Brooklyn.  He only craves the luminous glow of Broadway.

So what is next?  Do the Bulls hop back into it as some have suggested?  Will Worldwide Wes steer Melo to Chi-Town to hook up with his boy Tom Thibodeau?  Chicago won't part with Joakim Noah (which is absolutely the right play as franchise centers who double as the heart of your team are rarer than a good trade by Isiah Thomas).  Will Luol Deng and a draft pick get it done?

When the hyperbole abates, I do think Carmelo wants to suit up in MSG.  With that kind of unique leverage I hope Donnie Walsh doesn't gut our team to get him.  Danilo Gallinari and Landry Fields are two of our best young pieces and I'd hate to lose them to Denver. Especially considering Melo wants to sign here anyway, and we have the cap space to accommodate him.  The next few days should be extremely interesting.

Meet The Heatles.

Posted by Sean Doyle, January 17, 2010.

Image by Colin & Sean Doyle.

Fresh off one of the darkest moments in Cleveland sports history (the 112-57 double drubbing of the Cavs by the Lakers), LeBron James invoked the Karma clause.  His "Highness" tweeted, "Crazy, Karma is a bitch..Gets you every time. It is not good to wish bad on anybody. God sees everything!"  While the King engages in a gleeful bout of schadenfreude, his former team is slowly fading from the national consciousness.  If we do see the Cavaliers at all anymore, it is now only through the ever dry eyes of their estranged prodigal son.

His new team, which James slyly dubbed "The Heatles" after the greatest rock band of all time, is now making history of their own, methodically dismantling any franchise that gets in their way. After a rocky 9-8 start (in the rock world it's known as paying your dues), the Heatles are a ridiculous 21-4 in their last 25 games (21-1 with the Big Three healthy).

Since that fateful night in Cleveland, 'Bron has embraced his inner heel as Bill Simmons is fond of saying, and in doing so seems to have found his proper role. Now finally freed of his forced phony corporate milquetoast persona, the "King" (Come on, anyone who refers to himself as royalty is an automatic heel, we just weren't paying attention) is where he belongs, as the arrogant ringleader of a modern day Showtime Lakers (only without the likability and charm.) The Ric Flair of the Miami Heat's Four Horsemen.

Back to the Heatles.  To pull together this rough analogy we need to match the Fab Four with their modern day South Beach equivalent. I think this one is pretty straight forward. LeBron is John, the talented leader with a dark side. Wade is Paul, the pretty one with the pretty game, and the best chance at longevity. Bosh is George (I think this is easiest analogy), both could be the number one guy in a lot of teams/bands but in this particular situation are the very best third option around. And last but least (not a typo) Mike Miller is Ringo. I saw another photoshop where Juwan Howard is pictured as Ringo.  Juwan Freakin' Howard!  He's not even George Best.  Hell, he's not even Stu Sutcliffe.  No, Miller is Ringo.  Damnit!  Miller is Ringo!

Well folks, these are your Heatles, the premier heel faction in NBA history.

Dongslinger And The City.

Posted by Sean Doyle, January 11, 2011.

Image by Sean & Colin Doyle

Jeez ! What exactly do you think of us, Dongslinger?

Did you think that New York was some kind of non-stop orgy ball? A Caligula on the Hudson?  Because you sure treated your brief time here like some wild-eyed concupiscent teen boy in search of a cheap fleshy thrill.  Don't get me wrong DS, I'm not judging you. You're Brett Favre after all, one of the most famous and successful American athletes ever. (As in EVER!!) Two-hundred and ninety-seven straight NFL games bestow you with a certain modern day Spartan glow.  It's just...well....how do I put this? How come you didn't behave this way in Minnesota or Green Bay?  What is the Big Apple to you - just some easy Tramp?  I'm hurt, Dongslinger.

On Survivability.

Posted by Sean Doyle, January 10, 2011.

Wikipedia defines Survivability as the ability to remain alive or continue to exist.

"Hopefully the league can figure out one way where it can go back to the '80s where you had three or four All-Stars, three or four superstars, three or four Hall of Famers on the same team. The league was great. It wasn't as watered down as it is now. Imagine if you could take Kevin Love off Minnesota and add him to another team and shrink the league"
                                                                                                                   - LeBron James

In the go-go 1990s the Dow Jones Industrial Average, our nation's index of record, climbed from 2,800 to 11,700 for an incredible rise of 400%.  The NBA traced along on a similar expansionary route, growing from 23 teams in the late '80's to 29 by the late '90s (for a growth rate of about 25%, not too shabby).  The bull market in equities was the result of a happy confluence of events ranging from the fall of communism to the rise in leverage and cheap money, while the bull market in professional basketball had one major cause, Michael Jeffery Jordan.

With expansion often comes dilution.  The Association is stretched thin.  In 2004 the Charlotte Bobcats entered the NBA to make it an even 30 teams.  However, many thoughtful hardwood aficionados believe that the league in it's current form is watered down and therefore tasteless. Count King James amongst the concerned purists.  When he came out for contraction a few weeks ago, LeBron reignited a long dormant debate between those who seek to expand the NBA into an international powerhouse, (let's call them the Neocons led by David Stern) and those who wish it to remain an exclusive club of elite performers (let's call them the Paleocons lead by LeBron James).

Onward now to the notion of survivability. If we were to revolve back to LeBron's golden age (the mid 1980s) seven NBA franchises would need to be axed.  But which unlucky seven? Which of the weak hands would get to join the grungy ranks of the St. Louis Bombers and the Sheboygan Red Skins on that awful ash heap of dead franchise history?  We already know King James could do with the elimination of the New Jersey Nets and the Minnesota Timberwolves. But who else?

Here are the other obvious candidates for contraction: Memphis Grizzlies (NBA valuation rank: 29 of 30, attendance rank: 28 of 30), Sacramento Kings (NBA valuation rank 22 of 30, attendance rank: 29 of 30), Milwaukee Bucks (NBA valuation rank: 30 of 30, attendance rank: 24 of 30), New Orleans Hornets (NBA Valuation rank 28 of 30, attendance rank 23 of 30), Charlotte Bobcats (NBA valuation rank: 25 of 30, attendance rank: 22 of 30), and of course everybody's favorite hard luck head case The L.A. Clippers (NBA valuation rank: 23 of 30, attendance rank: 20 of 30).

They say only the strong survive.  Except when they don't. The NBA, like all major North American sports leagues, is an awkward amalgamation of large and small market teams forming a symbiotic relationship for supposed mutual benefit and survival.  The LeBron James', Kobe Bryants, and Dwayne Wades of the league along with the Lakers, Celtics, Bulls, and Knicks are the top of the food chain, the lion kings upon whose sturdy back the weaker beasts rely for sure survival.

On the ultimate question of contraction vs. survivability I am mixed.  On the one hand I do long for the halycon days of super-teams and super-rivals, LBJ's "golden age."  It is admittedly hard to get amped for a tuesday night "collision" between the Memphis Grizzlies and the Charlotte Bobcats.  However, I can't with good conscience advocate the forced removal of NBA teams from any cities no matter how fickle or dispassionate the fan base appears to be.  It is a great game, a beautiful game, and people of all ages in every corner of this great nation deserve to be part of it.  Besides, Memphis and Charlotte are just one Kevin Durant or LeBron James lottery pick away from glory. Just ask Cleveland and Oklahoma City.