As you have heard unless you were living under a rock (not that there is anything wrong with that), Bill Simmons is out at ESPN. He may be out NOW or he may be out in September when his contract runs out. So another one bites the dust. Gregg Easterbrook is out at ESPN and I have no clue if TMQ will show up anywhere else. It was saved a few years ago after ESPN discarded Gregg for the first time, but who knows if another site will pick it up? I know Bill Simmons is going to land somewhere else, and though I don't think he enjoys writing as much as he used to, I'm sure he'll be writing for whatever site he joins or creates. For the time being, he's not writing for Grantland. So it seems Bill won't keep his mailbag promise during the playoffs. One of his last columns for Grantland is about Tim Duncan. As I explained in the last playoff mailbag Bill did, he loves writing about Duncan. I can only imagine how much he would write about Duncan if the Celtics had actually drafted him.
I was remiss a few weeks ago when I listed the contrivances Bill uses in his columns in place of actually writing a column. There has to be a contrivance. I forgot to mention the contrivance of a retro-diary. It's the lazier version of a running diary. Sort of a "Watch this game a few days later and describe what happened" sort of thing. So rather than simply write a column about "The Tim Duncan Question," Bill has to use a retro-diary as a contrivance for this discussion. It's such a (temporary) loss for this blog if Bill is done writing for Grantland. The list of those I can mock on a consistent basis is being pared down of late.
When my father retired as a school superintendent in 2009,
only a few months before his 62nd birthday, I remember friends and
family members being surprised that he didn’t stay longer. “You always
want to get out a year early, not one or two years too late,” my dad
always explained.
While I understand that Bill Simmons doesn't believe anything has occurred prior to his noticing it occurred, this quote has been said in different ways by multiple people through the years. Bill's father did not say it, though I understand that Bill believes because his father said it once then he obviously invented this line.
And if that’s true … what do we do about Tim Duncan?
I don't think there is anything "we" can do about Tim Duncan. He will either to decide to continue playing basketball or retire. "We" have no say in the decision.
Maybe Saturday’s Clippers defeat wasn’t as gut-wrenching as San
Antonio’s improbable 2013 Finals collapse, but Duncan’s murky future
gave Game 7 a different kind of desperation. He scored 27 points,
grabbed 11 rebounds, drained two game-tying, über-clutch free throws
with eight seconds to play … and missed blocking Chris Paul’s
last-second, double-clutch, series-winning banker by the length of maybe
two knuckles.
Otherwise known by most normal human beings as "two inches."
Ten years ago, he absolutely would have blocked that shot.
Five years ago, he probably would have blocked it.
Three years ago, he could have blocked it, but maybe not.
Four years ago, he probably would have blocked it, but ask again later.
Thirty years ago, he would not have blocked it.
Fifty years ago, Tim Duncan did not exist as a living, breathing human.
Was that the last play of his career? Duncan isn’t saying yet. Of the 14
greatest NBA players ever — Jordan, then Russell, then Kareem, then
Bird and Magic and Duncan and LeBron, then Wilt and Kobe, then West and
Oscar, then Hakeem and Shaq and Moses — 10 of the 14 retired at least
one or two years too late.
The lesson here is that uber-competitive athletes tend to not understand when they are supposed to retire, because they are uber-competitive athletes who have based their lives on being better than everyone else at their chosen profession.
So only the great Bill Russell definitely got out early — he dropped the
mic after winning back-to-back titles and beating Wilt, West AND Elgin.
BILL RUSSELL KNOWS WHEN TO RETIRE BETTER THAN YOUR FAVORITE ATHLETE KNOWS WHEN TO RETIRE! NO ONE DENIES THIS!
So those are the stakes for Tim Duncan. Leave right now. Leave everyone
wanting more. Leave people saying, “Keep playing! You’re still good at
this!” Leave with your legs still working. (Fine, one of your legs.)
Leave knowing that, by any calculation, you were one of the best two-way
players ever and one of the most beloved teammates ever. Leave with
five titles, two MVPs and an astonishing 15 All-NBA team nods.
Leave after your normally gruff coach said this about you …
“I continue to be amazed by Tim Duncan. He was our most consistent
player in the playoffs, at 39. He needed a little more help and I feel
badly he didn’t get it. It wasn’t for lack of trying. Even our players
shake their heads at his performance at both ends of the floor. He wants
it badly and does it the right way. It’s not about bells and whistles
and grunting and dancing and doing commercials and all of that stuff. He
just does it quietly and that’s why we feel badly when we don’t get it
done for him.”
That’s why we feel badly when we don’t get it done for him. Eighteen years and they’re still saying this about Timmaaay???
18 years? Something similar was said about David Robinson during the beginning of Duncan's career and I don't ever recall "Let's get this done for Tim Duncan" being a rallying cry during the first decade of Duncan's career either. But hey, Bill's memory is better than mine I'm sure.
What if he’s leaving two years early? What if he has one more vintage beauty in him?
What if Duncan retires and gets eaten by a grizzly bear while camping in the woods with his family because he couldn't outrun the bear due to no longer being in basketball shape? What if he comes back and has just an "okay" year and then retires at the perfect time for him? (Bill Simmons checks word count to see if he needs to kill more space)
Before he decides, I really hope he watches the last 12 minutes and 10
seconds of Game 7 again. Maybe it will get his juices flowing. Here’s a
retro diary to help fill in the blanks.
Yes, Bill is here to help Tim Duncan by providing the contrivance of a retro-diary that Duncan is sure to never actually read. The idea that every NBA player doesn't read his mailbag columns probably would come as a shock to Bill. But hey, here's a retro-diary for old time's sake.
0:10 remaining, third quarter (Clips 76, Spurs 76) With
Chris Paul resting on the bench, the Clips just “blew” a four-point
lead (three missed 3s, one turnover) and have a foul to give … Manu
Ginobili knows it … only Austin Rivers doesn’t realize that Manu knows
it … leading to the rarely seen “fouled in the act of shooting a 3 from
65 feet away” call … leading to the incredible sight of Rivers and his
son executing matching disbelief/sprint/stomp skids.
So why would Tim Duncan watch these 10 seconds again? This play has nothing to do with him at all and is just an attempt for Bill to mention he was at the game (in case you missed his previous column where he gnashed his teeth over his fate when trying to choose between attending this Game 7 or the Mayweather-Pacquiao fight) while being clever. This play had nothing to do with Duncan.
0:00 remaining, third quarter (Clips 79, Spurs 78) Paul
comes back, dribbles over midcourt, takes three steps (no travel call —
a pseudo-makeup), banks in a 37-footer and immediately stares down
referee Monty McCutchen for the NBA’s first-ever one-legged,
double-clutch, 37-foot F.U. banker.
And if bad NBA officiating which entails one bad call resulting in the officials doubling down and making another bad call as a "make up" doesn't bring Tim Duncan back from the brink of retirement then I don't know what will.
Yet another reason why Duncan should retire: Tony Parker might not be Tony Parker anymore. Check out these playoff numbers …
2013: 36.4 mpg, 20.6 ppg, 7.0 apg, 45.8% FG, 5.3 FTA, 21.5 PER
2014: 31.3 mpg, 17.4 ppg, 4.8 apg, 48.6% FG, 3.0 FTA, 15.8 PER
2015: 30.0 mpg, 10.9 ppg, 3.6 apg, 36.3% FG, 2.4 FTA, 6.3 PER
But if the Spurs have Patty Mills ready to fill the point guard role for Parker and they draft Tyus Jones then all will be right in the world.
Even if an Achilles strain hampered Parker, isn’t that the problem with aging point guards? It’s always something, right?
Great point based off an astute observation. With aging point guards (athletes) it's always something (as these athletes get older their bodies are more prone to breaking down). Maybe Tony Parker is the one who should realize it's time to retire.
11:04 (Clips 82-81) Three-pointer, Chris Paul. Quick tangent …
Yes, quick tangent away from the quick tangent about Tony Parker's regression away from the supposed column topic on why Tim Duncan should not retire quite yet. At some point, the reason Duncan should not/should retire (other than "Your point guard is getting old") will be given, right?
In 1976, I was there when a thoroughly banged-up John Havlicek made his famous off-one-leg running banker in the triple-OT game against Phoenix. I watched Kevin McHale play on a broken foot for four straight rounds in ’87. I watched Larry Legend submit multiple Hardwood Classics
moments in ’91 and ’92 while wearing a disturbingly bulky back brace. I
watched a gimpy Wade throw on his Batman costume and help out Superman
LeBron in those last two 2013 Finals games. But watching Chris Paul’s
trial-and-error routine with that faulty hamstring, once he returned to
Game 7 Saturday, ranks right up there. He just wouldn’t let that thing
derail him.
Bill WAS THERE to experience these things. I thought I remember McHale playing on the broken foot and Larry Bird trying to play with a balky back, but I don't remember because I WASN'T THERE like Bill was. His being there, means he has a perspective that no one else can manage to have on these events. He's more special than you and don't question it because it's true because Bill's parents told him that all the time when he was growing up about how special he was.
These guys happen to be otherworldly athletes; that’s why we watch. They make our dreams come true.
I really wish Bill would stop constantly referring to "we" and "our" in his columns, as if he speaks for all sports fans. For a guy who is known for a writing style that features a lot of first person accounts where he is JUST LIKE US, Bill seems to write in the third person quite a lot. His writing style has gone from "He's just like us!" to "He's just like how he wants to perceive us as being in order to make a point he wants to prove!"
It’s incredible to watch. I have been going to Clippers games for four
years; that was easily the best game I’ve ever seen Chris Paul play. It
was like watching someone win a NASCAR race with three tires. He had no
margin for error. None.
Bill will have to tell us what being at the game was like, because obviously on television it was impossible to see that Chris Paul was even hurt. I'm glad Bill was there to relay stories such as this, and I'm glad he has such little respect for his readers' ability to see Chris Paul was hurt, because that means "we" get to experience the game through the eyes of Bill Simmons. It's like viewing sports through the eyes of God.
And if anyone thought Bill wasn't going to write about this Game 7 as if it were the greatest game in the history of sports, then these people were wrong. Granted, it was a great game, but even if it wasn't then Bill would have pretended it was so he can justify his decision to not attend the Manny-Floyd (I like using first names better because it sounds like two really old men fighting) fight.
He’s the best point guard of his generation. Game 7 ended up being his
submission to the “Best Point Guards Ever” club — his version of Isiah’s
slightly-more-incredible Game 6 of the 1988 Finals. A game that I
absolutely revere even though a Bad Boy Piston was involved.
It was just a few short years ago that Bill called Rajon Rondo the best point guard in the NBA. I tried to find where he stated this, but I could not. So believe me or don't. Bill did state this in a column during the season when Chris Paul was injured, so obviously Bill was making an observation based entirely on immediacy. I wish I could find it, because I stated that Chris Paul is still the best point guard in the NBA. Anyway, Bill wants people to forget he ever wrote that.
By the way, is this column about Tim Duncan or Chris Paul?
Last point: After seeing how badly CP3 wanted Saturday’s game, it was fascinating to watch how badly Floyd and Manny didn’t
want their fight. They made an exceptionally lucrative arrangement to
stage a friendly 12-round boxing exhibition, our first-ever Happy To Be
There fight of the century.
Bill streeeeeeeeeeeeeetches to talk about the Floyd-Manny fight in some capacity.
This was the good-natured, hate-free, low-stakes battle that Drago and Creed were supposed to have had.
Isn't it interesting how Bill spent a portion of his last mailbag talking about what a huge fan of boxing he is, yet the only parallel to the Floyd-Manny fight is to a fictional boxing match? I feel like if Bill really was a huge boxing fan (instead of just suddenly becoming one a few weeks ago) then he could think of a real-life parallel and not a parallel based on a fictional fight.
When Manny fell behind heading into the last four rounds, you never felt
his urgency — because he didn’t have any. That dude had both arms
raised from the moment they told him how much money he was making. Game 7
wasn’t the best undercard for Floyd and Manny, that’s for sure.
Of course, Manny was hurt, but since Bill isn't a boxing fan anymore then he probably doesn't care.
10:06 (Clips 84-84) Missed Kawhi 3, Diaw rebound, Manu 3
(good!), Griffin turnover, Spurs fast break … and Kawhi blows a
twisting reverse layup that leads to a Matt Barnes dunk. I didn’t love
Kawhi’s last two games — no-showed Game 6, never went full Sharktopus in Game 7. Does he trust his own talent yet?
Or perhaps he is just a really good player that can't carry the Spurs team long-term when other players on the team are struggling? By the way, still no mention of Duncan. So is this column just a cheap excuse to talk about the exciting Game 7 that Bill attended? Probably.
8:27 (Clips 88-87) More back-and-forth action crests
with CP3 hitting a jumper, Duncan abusing DeAndre on the low post (he’s
officially in Game 6 2013 Finals Jedi mode), then Blake pulling off a
reverse layup for a three-point play (“hrrrrrrr-HAHHHHHHHH”).
Son of a bitch, Bill is just giving the play-by-play of the game right now. It's nearly impossible to stay awake. And what the fuck is "hrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr-HAHHHHHHHHHHHHH"? What the fuck is that? If this were Bill's last column for Grantland then it would be fitting because this is one of his more obvious mail-in jobs.
That happened in the best two Game 7s I ever caught in person: 1981
Boston-Philly and 1987 Boston-Detroit. Everyone just kept climbing the
ladder as the fans glanced around in disbelief.
I have watched Game 7 of the 1987 Eastern Conference Finals probably 100+ times in my life (easily), so I didn't need to catch the game in person to know how exciting it was.
This was the exact point in Saturday’s game when it started happening — right here. (You’re gonna miss those moments, Timmay.)
Yes, Tim Duncan. You will miss these moments, because this column is about you. Except, it's not.
Then Jamal Crawford throws the ball away and fouls Parker. Let the
record show that Crawford scored nine crucial points during the game’s
darkest stretch for Clips fans,
So yeah, Jamal might have stunk in Round 1 — 11.7 points, 38 percent
shooting, 20 percent from 3 and a ghastly 8.86 PER. But those nine
no-CP3 points were nine of the biggest points of his career. The
Clips don’t win Game 7 without them.
The Clippers don't win Game 7 without them, mostly because if Crawford didn't score 9 points then the Spurs would have won due to having lost in reality by only two points.
5:58 (Spurs 95-92) Good God, it’s Hack-A-DJ!!!!!! He
makes only one of two. Can you really give DeAndre Jordan a $120
million, five-year extension when he’s become such a free throw
liability that he’s headed for a Game 7 crunch-time benching?
I probably wouldn't give DeAndre Jordan $120 million regardless, but yes, an NBA team will do this.
5:26 (Spurs 97-94) Duncan scores and CP3 bricks an 18-footer, leading to the game’s second Coulda Woulda Shoulda momentum swing play--Parker grabbed the rebound, only he forgot that Chris Paul loves
sneak-picking pockets after missed Clippers shots. Whoops. Pop flipped
out after this one. Not protecting a big defensive rebound against Chris
Paul — that’s like not moving the leftover pork chops far enough away
from the counter if you have a dog.
Great analogy Bill. Not protecting the basketball from Chris Paul is EXACTLY like leaving pork chops close to the edge of the counter where a dog can get them.
5:26 (Spurs 97-94) Barnes comes in for DeAndre. Hold this thought.
It's your thought, Bill. You can do whatever you want with it. "Hold that thought" usually goes for when another person is having a thought, no?
4:00 (Spurs 101-100) Diaw to Duncan inside for a layup,
Redick’s second straight 3 (off a nice pick from Blake), Parker with an
off-balance banker. Boom, boom, boom. Dizzying. Such a high level of
hoops. And the subtweet conversation of this epic run … no DeAndre!
I'm still confused as to what Tim Duncan has to do with this play-by-play that Bill is giving. If Duncan is supposed to miss playing in an extremely exciting Game 7, and that's why he should come back for another year, well these exciting games don't come along every year. Again, in reality Bill is only trying to frame his lazy play-by-play around Tim Duncan's potential retirement. Bill had made the decision to do a retro-diary and needed to frame it around something or else the laziness of it might become clearer.
Doc willingly sacrificed rim protection and defensive rebounding to
spread the floor and avoid the Seventh Circle of Hell (a.k.a. Game 7
Crunch-Time Hack-A-DJ). Say what you want about Doc, but this decision
took a set of watermelon-size balls. I loved it.
Bill just asked if an NBA team can give Jordan $120 million when he can't be on the court in crunch-time, then he says it takes balls for Rivers to pull Jordan in crunch-time. Was it a gutsy decision or a decision to take advantage of the Clippers outside shooting and move a liability off the court? So Rivers' move makes sense and didn't take a huge set of balls, right?
3:34 (Clips 102-101) Danny Green fouls a driving/careering/fearless Blake and Griffin drains both...How many times was Blake gasping for air on the bench like he’d just
finished a triathlon? Nobody played harder. He finally figured it out.
Great power forwards aren’t that complicated — once they hit their
playoff peaks, they start going for 24 and 12 every night and that’s
just how it goes.
(Bengoodfella chokes to death on hyperbole)
Look up Malone, Barkley, Pettit, Duncan, C-Webb, Garnett, Elgin … it
doesn’t matter. Those guys were getting 24 and 12 at their peaks. Blake
took it up a notch: For the series, he sent in his 42 Club application
by averaging 24, 13 and 7, with a 26.0 PER, which has never been done
for an entire NBA postseason.
Ah yes, no Bill Simmons column would be complete without Bill referencing something else he has written or referencing a contrivance he had previously created. By the way, is this column about Tim Duncan or is it about DeAndre Jordan's foul shooting, Blake Griffin, or Chris Paul? I'm becoming confused.
Maybe it IS time for Duncan to get out. Like winter in Game of Thrones, Blake Griffin is coming.
Except winter is never fucking coming in "Game of Thrones," so according to this parallel, the discussion will mostly revolve around Blake Griffin coming but it never actually happens.
2:50 (Spurs 103-102) Diaw misses a 5-footer, Barnes
blocks two Green putbacks (TWO!), then Duncan makes a layup AND gets
fouled by Griffin, followed by the textbook Duncan/Undertaker dead-eyed
shuffle/stomp-away/eye-bulge routine toward the sideline as his bench
erupts. Just a stupefyingly competitive sequence that doubles as
DeAndre’s best case for a $120 million extension, even before Duncan
misses the free throw, Diaw grabs the rebound (PAY DEANDRE!!!!!),
So DeAndre Jordan should get $120 million because the Clippers don't have any other good defensive rebounders? That type of logic is how two years from now the Clippers will be looking to rid themselves of Jordan's contract. It's terrible logic. Simply because the Clippers don't currently have good defensive rebounders means they should go pay Jordan $120 million any more than it means they should find (through free agency) better defensive rebounders to come off the bench.
2:12 (Spurs 105, Clips 105) In the words of Mike Breen, “Bang!!!!!!!!!!”
In the words of me, "Why the hell are you writing an entire column that consists of play-by-play of that game that provides no further insight into what happened on the court?"
Not since Robert Horry’s heyday has such a statistically shaky,
up-and-down, pseudo-journeyman doubled as such a valuable
you-can-go-to-war-with-him playoff guy. He made six or seven huge
fourth-quarter plays and vindicated Doc’s decision to bench DeAndre. Of
anyone who’s ever been married to a real-life reality show character,
Barnes is the one you’d want in a do-or-die basketball game — narrowly
edging Mauricio from Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.
I’ve seen Mauricio in action during multiple catfights and near
altercations — the dude never loses his composure. Cool as a cucumber.
Yes, anyone who has ever seen that show has seen him during the catfights and near altercations. Bill Simmons does realize other humans have television sets doesn't he? Like, other people were able to view Game 7 of the Spurs-Clippers series and can watch Bravo television shows as well. He isn't the only one who can view and experience these types of things.
The only Spurs who played as well in the 2015 playoffs as they did in
the 2014 playoffs: Duncan and Mills. Who woulda thunk? Maybe that’s one
more reason for Duncan to come back — new blood! Free agents!
Because the Spurs are well-known for having a lot of roster turnover between seasons. I'm sure it will be attractive for Duncan to come back knowing he'll get to play next to guys he hasn't played with for his entire career and there is a small chance he'll play in an exciting Game 7. Where can he sign up?
0:55 (Spurs 107, Clips 107) Kawhi makes a sweet
hesitation move, finds the right shot (an open 12-footer) and totally
short-arms it. Rebound, Griffin. (No DeAndre — still!) In the last three
second halves of this series, Kawhi shot 3-for-23 and made only one
shot that wasn’t a layup. That’s why, in Monday’s end-of-season press
conference, Pop broke down Kawhi’s development as a future franchise guy
by saying, “It’s a matter of understanding that it will be expected
night after night after night.”
Bill Simmons has been pushing Kawhi Leonard as one of the next great superstars in the NBA and even comparing him to Scottie Pippen. But now when he sees evidence this isn't true he is all, "Well Coach Pop said that Leonard has to prove he can do great things on a nightly basis," which is something anyone who had not already compared Leonard to a Hall of Famer knew. I'm sure Bill thinks that he is informing his audience of something new and revelatory by stating Leonard can't consistently be the MVP of the NBA Finals, when in fact it's Bill who needed to be informed of this.
Even if that next-level leap will eventually come, much like it just
came for Blake (three years older), Duncan can’t wait around forever. I
blame myself for throwing the Apex Scottie comparisons around.
Yes Bill, it's your fault. You made Kawhi Leonard not take "the leap" because you compared him to Scottie Pippen and when Leonard read your column/mailbag (as every professional athlete does, naturally) he thought too much of himself. Perhaps you can simply blame yourself for throwing the comparison to Pippen around and admitting that at this point it was a dumb comparison.
Kawhi isn’t all the way there yet. By the time he gets there, Duncan will be gone. Alas.
Again, it's laughable this column is titled "The Tim Duncan Question" when it seems this retro-diary is about everybody else in the Spurs-Clippers series except Duncan.
Monty McCutcheon belatedly calls Duncan for a body foul about 1.3
seconds after CP3 releases his missed jumper. Ludicrous whistle. When
they no-called Barnes’s body block on Parker at 1:23, for me, that was
our under-the-radar sign that the players would decide this game. Nope. Pop waves in disgust and turns back to his bench, like he was
watching a meter maid writing him a ticket, said “Screw it,” and left
the ticket on his car to get coffee. Go figure — Team Whine & Cheese
got the shakiest big call of Round 1. Had the roles been reversed, they
would have had to airlift a purple Doc out of Staples Center.
(Yes, this was Coulda Woulda Shoulda Play No. 6. And yes, Chris made
both free throws — giving him an astonishing 26 straight for the
postseason. Timeout, Spurs.)
Throughout this retro-diary, Bill talks about Coulda Woulda Should Plays, which is just a way to restate that certain plays could go either way and change the complexion of the game. Bill is taking an old idea about 50/50 calls or plays and re-naming them in order to make it seem like it's an original thought of his own.
0:08 (Clips 109, Spurs 109) The Spurs run a beauty of a
play, getting Duncan rolling to the basket off a switch and forcing
Redick to foul him. That means Duncan, hovering at 50 percent for the
series, now has to save San Antonio’s season from the free throw line.
In the moment, I found myself rooting for him like he was a Boston guy. You can’t go out this way. You have to make these.
This retro-diary is just absolutely riveting. If the sign of quality writing isn't play-by-play of a sporting event with the writer's own personal thoughts inserted into the narrative, then I don't know what is the sign of quality sportswriting. That's the beauty of Bill's writing. You have to give a shit about Bill and what he thinks or else it's wasted time reading what he writes. Everything he writes is framed around his point of view where he imposes his views as being the view of others as well.
Additional Point No. 2: I don’t see how the same guy who made THOSE free throws can retire...But I went to four of those seven games and didn’t see any laboring.
I watched from television and didn't see any laboring. Of course, I'm only watching on television, while Bill WAS THERE, so because Bill lives in a world where those people who watch sports on television aren't actually watching the sporting event then he knows more than anyone else does.
NBA big men and wrestlers age the same way — they get stiff and lose their balance. Happens to everyone. When I went to WrestleMania 31 and watched the actual Undertaker wrestling, guess what?
You tried to subtly brag about attending a sporting event without your audience knowing that you were trying to brag?
They played 341 minutes in this series; the Clippers took the lead for
good at the 340:59 mark. The Spurs knew what play was coming, and so did
the fans, only it didn’t matter. What’s amazing is that Paul always
seemed to think it was going in. Everyone went bonkers, obviously. I
have been in the building for some ear-splitting,
everyone-loses-their-shit NBA reactions, ranging from Havlicek’s
aforementioned banker (the triple-OT game) to Bird Steals the Ball to
Ray Allen’s 3 to a slew of others. Really, there’s no “loudest” sound.
Once you reach Everyone Loses Their Shit level, that’s it. You can’t get
higher.
Cue to three years from now when Bill talks about he attended a Celtics game where the crowd was the loudest he's ever heard while at a sporting event and this loudness can never be topped.
CP3 played brilliantly all series, injured himself at the worst possible
time, rallied back and ended up making history. And that seven-game
series/battle/war/life experience brought that whole team closer
together. Don’t sleep on the Clippers.
They were one of eight teams left in the NBA Playoffs, so it's hard to sleep on them.
Our final score: Clippers 111, Spurs 109. A.k.a. the Chris Paul game.
And I don’t care if it was Round 1. That’s one of the 12 best seven-game
series since 1976’s ABA-NBA merger if you’re ranking for star power,
general story lines, legacy-related story lines, closeness of the games,
atmosphere, and iconic games/plays/moments …
So has the Tim Duncan question been answered yet or no? Or was the whole "Here's why Tim Duncan shouldn't retire" just a way for Bill to do a retro-diary play-by-play of Game 7 in the Spurs-Clippers series without seeming like he's just writing a play-by-play of a sporting event?
Honorable Mention: 1978 Bullets-Sonics, 1980
Sonics-Bucks, 1981 Sixers-Bucks, 1988 Mavs-Lakers, 1990 Blazers-Spurs,
1992 Bulls-Knicks, 1993 Suns-Sonics, 1994 Suns-Rockets, 1995
Magic-Pacers, 2000 Knicks-Heat, 2000 Lakers-Blazers, 2004 Kings-Wolves,
2009 Celts-Bulls (lost its “Best Round 1 Series Ever” belt), 2010
Celts-Lakers, 2012 Celts-Heat.
Only three of these series involved the Celtics! That's it!
The Top 12: 1979 Bullets-Spurs (Ice blows a 3-1 lead),
1981 Sixers-Celtics (the championship belt holder), 1984 Celts-Lakers
(four iconic games!), 1987 Bucks-Celtics (best second-rounder ever),
You'll never guess this, but Bill knows the 1987 Bucks-Celtics series was the best second-rounder ever because he WAS THERE.
Our lost great 1980s series — they averaged 242.5 points per game, played an OT game and a double-OT game,
and Milwaukee led by eight in Game 7 with six minutes to go. Oh, and
Jack Sikma’s hair, Paul Mokeski’s mustache, Larry Bird’s hair, Randy
Breuer’s body and Kevin McHale’s body were involved! I went to Game 7
and it’s one of my 10 favorite games I have ever attended. So there.
See?
1987 Celts-Pistons (insane), 1988 Lakers-Pistons (doubly insane), 1995
Pacers-Knicks (Reggie vs. Ewing), 1998 Pacers-Bulls (MJ taken to the
brink), 2002 Lakers-Kings (the NBA goes WWE), 2006 Mavs-Spurs (the lost
great 21st-century series), 2013 Heat-Spurs (a life experience) and 2015
Spurs-Clips.
Only 4 of these 12 series involved the Celtics. That's it!
That’s an unassailable list.
Don't even bother assailing this list. It's unassailable. Questioning Bill Simmons about this list of great series is like questioning the Pope about his commitment to God. I love how Bill states his own list is "unassailable." He's a guy who truly believes the bullshit he writes is the gospel on sports. The ego he has...
The Spurs blew Game 6 at home, couldn’t put Game 7 away and lost when a
great player made an even greater shot. Either that was the best
possible way for Duncan to go out (with a bang, still playing well) or
the worst possible way (because it was, to borrow a poker term,
something of an unlucky beat). Only he knows.
So … should Duncan retire?
Oh, so the supposed topic of discussion for this retro-diary is going to be discussed at some point?...but not right now of course.
If it feels like a sports movie moment, that’s because it’s basically the plot in For Love of the Game,
Except it's not the plot of that movie at all, because Kevin Costner threw a perfect game and his team won, while Tim Duncan's team lost. But anyway, I'm sure this is an unassailable comparison so I'm not sure why I bother assailing it.
everyone’s favorite baseball movie that’s locked in the basement of a reprehensible romance drama.
EVERYONE'S favorite! It's Bill's favorite, so of course that means he speaks for everyone else in the world also. The world revolves around Bill and his beliefs.
Like everyone else,
EVERYONE ELSE! NO EXCEPTIONS! THIS IS UNASSAILABLE!
I love Vin Scully. I love Costner’s buddy on the other team who sold out
and joined the Yankees. I love watching John C. Reilly pretending to be
a catcher. I love the moment when Costner realizes he has a perfect
game going. I love Vern Schillinger Whiplash Simmons as Costner’s
manager. I love “Clear the mechanism.”
And again, this column is supposedly about Tim Duncan and whether he should retire. Right now, Bill is talking about a baseball movie though. Of course.
And I really love one particular moment, right near the end, when Chapel
realizes that everything hurts too much. That he doesn’t want to pitch
for anyone else. That he’s too expensive to keep but too stubborn to
switch teams. Everything just falls into place for him during that game.
He doesn’t want to pitch anymore. He wants to leave on a high.
This is what is wrong with Bill's writing. He writes, "So...should Duncan retire?" and then immediately does not answer the question, instead going through a long tangent about a movie that he----sorry, I mean everyone---likes in order to answer the question in the most convoluted way possible.
Always gets me. Well, couldn’t you see Duncan leaving that way next
month? No press conference, no fanfare, no farewell tour, no exit
interviews. Just tell ’em I’m done.
Yes Duncan will not make a big deal out of retiring, not because "For the Love of the Game" is a parallel to Tim Duncan's situation, but because Duncan has done everything without fanfare through his entire NBA career.
When you know it’s time to go, it’s not about the games, the locker
rooms, the camaraderie, the charter planes and the salaries anymore. All
of that stuff makes you want to keep playing, actually.
But preparing to play — that’s the culprit.
It’s the mental burden that saps you. You start missing your freedom.
You have to eat a certain way, sleep a certain way, prepare a certain
way. You learn to dread those mornings after back-to-backs. You hate
those early wakeup calls, hate being at the gym for hours by yourself,
hate working on things that you already learned a million years ago. You
already peaked, and you know it, so it’s all about killing yourself so
you can be 70 percent as good as you once were.
Bill knows this from his vast experience of never having played professional sports. It's funny how Bill states "we" know things when he cares to speak for everyone else, but when Bill wants to be the expert on the topic he is discussing all of a sudden "we" don't know something and Bill is the only one who has the experience enough to know. "We" thought Kawhi Leonard would be a superstar or "we" love a certain movie, but only Bill knows how good the crowd at the Staples Center was for Game 7 because he WAS THERE.
You have young dudes coming at you left and right, always looking to
prove themselves, doing anything possible to put themselves on the map
against you. Shit, you could see it with Blake Griffin in Round 1. He
didn’t just want to win, he wanted to take it to Duncan. Again and again
and again.
So it’s not about one more year. It’s about 18 of them, and how they add up and start subtracting from the current product.
Bill's writing is always very weak when he tries to be serious and insightful about sports. He tends to over-rely on hyperbole and unanswerable questions. These are the things that happen when Bill has 10% of a column idea and has to dream up the other 90% of the content.
Could the Spurs have beaten the Clips with a healthier Parker? Will free
agency help? Will Kawhi make The Leap? Could Duncan have blocked that
CP3 shot? Did he get there in time? Was he a split second late? Did his
brain see it coming, completely and totally, only his body couldn’t
quite get there?
As I said, he over-relies on unanswerable questions and hyperbole when he tries to be serious talking about sports.
He will disappear this summer, like he always does, and he will remain
in shape by swimming and eating plants and doing whatever else aliens
do. Some time before July 1, he will share his plan with the Spurs. Only
Duncan knows if it will be one year too early. I just know that he’s
one of the best basketball players I have ever seen.
This is the "insightful" ending of the column. I feel insighted.
I hope he comes back. And I hope he doesn’t come back.
Bill ends the column (and perhaps his last column with Grantland) with a reach for a thought-provoking comment. So, Bill doesn't give a shit what Tim Duncan does? That's my conclusion at least. It's funny, because if this is Bill Simmons' last column/mailbag/retro-diary for Grantland, then this last sentence is how I feel about him as well.
Showing posts with label pop culture and self referential count. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pop culture and self referential count. Show all posts
Thursday, May 14, 2015
Monday, May 4, 2015
6 comments Bill Simmons Keeps His Mailbag Oath for One Week, Manages to Shoehorn an "Awards" Column Gimmick Into a Mailbag
Bill Simmons vowed to do mailbags every week during the NBA playoffs. Even he doesn't believe that he will be able to keep this vow. In his first playoff mailbag, Bill manages to not only use the mailbag gimmick, but he also does the "handing out awards" gimmick for his column as well. AND he calls the mailbag the "Mailbag Reunion Tour," which is a gimmick-y name given to the mailbag. So that's three gimmicks to pump out one column. Things are getting dicey for Bill of late and he's probably disappointed Kelly Olynyk's battery upon Kevin Love could have hurt Love's chances of signing with the Celtics in the offseason. Of course, that happened after this mailbag was published, so his reaction will come later. For now, Bill kept his oath to not be lazy and published a mailbag for one week. Bill was so lazy that he couldn't even write an introduction to the mailbag without a gimmick like "handing out awards."
Before we tackle a few mailbag questions, I need to jack up some shots to get loose. Let’s rip through a few quick Round 1 awards.
Bill can't even get through writing part of a column without attaching some gimmick to it. It's becoming ridiculous.
Stand under the basket and rebound for me, please. Seriously. Go down there. And throw me nice, crisp passes right at my chest. Thanks.
You can almost hear Bill counting out the words to make sure the introduction is long enough to merit moving on to the awards. He feels like his introduction has to be more than two sentences, so he rambles a little bit.
The Game of Thrones Award for Most Enjoyable Viewing Experience
Game 1 of Clips-Spurs featured two all-time Blake dunks; the best-ever CP3-and-Blake-peaking-in-the-same-game performance; Aron Baynes being defiled in so many different ways that everyone in Staples Center kept waiting for the Gimp from Pulp Fiction to climb out of a trunk;
Everyone in the crowd was immediately thinking about a pop-culture reference to a 21 year old movie while at a sporting event.
In 10 years of owning Clips season tickets, that’s the fourth-best Clips game I’ve ever attended, trailing only Game 7 of Warriors-Clips in 2014, LeBron vs. Peak Dumbleavy in 2009 and the unforgettable 2007 contest when Tim Thomas played 30 minutes without ever crossing either 3-point line.
Great, glad you had a good time. My main concern is whether Bill Simmons has a good time at a Clippers game and where he would rank this Clippers game in the Official Pantheon of Clippers Games That He Has Attended. This is all I'm concerned about.
The Joe House/Other Shoe Theory Award for Worst But Most Inevitable Playoff Loss
In Game 3 against Golden State, the Pelicans blew a 55-point fourth-quarter lead in less than four minutes (all numbers approximate) in such an unsurprising meltdown that (a) I had to catch a 6:11 a.m. Acela train this morning from Boston to New York, (b) I was lying in my hotel bed at midnight thinking to myself, I could go to sleep right now and I’d get five solid hours, and (c) I stayed awake only because the Warriors AND Monty Williams were involved. Any member of the 400-Hour Club (those who have watched more than 400 hours of League Pass this season) learned by December never to give up on a seemingly insurmountable Pelicans lead or Warriors deficit. This was the perfect storm.
You can tell that Bill's parents spent a good portion of his childhood telling him just how fucking special and important he was. Bill has to create special, exclusive clubs that he's a member of in order to give himself some sense of authority for the statements he's made. So Bill's opinion that the playoff loss was inevitable comes from Bill's opinion that 400 hours of watching League Pass gives him the knowledge to know this. So to sum it up, Bill's opinion the lead was not insurmountable was proven by Bill's opinion (after the fact of course) that he had watched enough basketball this year to come to the conclusion. Personally, I could know the lead wasn't insurmountable because the Warriors won 67 games this year and the Hornets are the #8 seed. But that's just me.
Additional note for the history nerds out there: For the 2015 Warriors to go down as an all-time team, they need to win the title AND finish 16-4 in the playoffs AND sweep at least two series AND submit a few memorable lay-the-smack-down games along the way AND create three or four iconic moments (like Curry’s game-saving Shoulda-Been-A-Four-Pointer).
Additional note for Bill Simmons: He doesn't make the rules and the Warriors don't have to do all of this and can still be considered an all-time team. His opinion isn't the fact upon which all other judgments should be based.
Additional additional note for Bill Simmons: Lay-the-smack-down games and iconic moments are completely subjective metrics and have zero meaning as to whether the Warriors are an all-time team.
The G-Baby Award for Most Depressing Sports Funeral
The violent, grisly, emotionally scarring and unexpectedly abrupt death of Playoff Rondo ranks right up there with the end of Furious 7 for me. I loved Playoff Rondo almost as much as I loved National TV Rondo.
IT'S ONLY BECAUSE RONDO COULDN'T MOTIVATE HIMSELF TO PLAY IN THE PLAYOFFS WHEN HE'S NOT IN FRONT OF THE GREATEST FAN BASE IN SPORTS! NO ONE DENIES THIS IS TRUE!
I would love to know how my wife handled it if we were to go out for dinner once a week for four weeks, and every time, I wouldn’t say that much and would act weird but make just enough jokes to make the dinner passable … only every time we went out with another couple, I’d be hilarious and gregarious and charismatic and keep telling everyone, “You’re with Double-Date Simmons tonight!!!!!”
Bill's wife would probably point out that your jokes aren't as hilarious as he thinks they are and I think he seems to have the on-air charisma of a cardboard cut-out, so it's probably not much better in person. I do like how Bill clearly thinks so highly of himself to where he knows he can be hilarious, gregarious and charismatic any time that he wants to. It's quite the ego that Bill has to where he thinks, "I can make anyone like me any time I want because I have all these positive characteristics."
You know what would happen? She’d dump Double Date Simmons and Regular Season Simmons. Only in sports can you pull off the idea of Playoff Rondo.
You are an abomination.
The Comedy Central Not Locking Up John Oliver Award for Biggest Mistake
Dallas gambled (AND ruined their bench AND wasted a first-round pick) by flagrantly violating the “You can get away with one head case, just don’t give him someone to hang out with” rule by teaming up Monta Ellis and Rondo.
This is a hard-and-fast rule, just as long as you ignore that Dennis Rodman played on the same team as Adrian Dantley, Bill Laimbeer, and Rick Mahorn. Those guys may not have been all head cases, but they weren't always easy to get along with. But whatever, I'm sure Bill believes this rule is hard-and-fast because he made it up.
And even worse, they never considered things like, “Should we be worried that Rick Carlisle is a control freak who wants constant ball movement and Rondo loves to dominate the ball and control everything?” and “Should we be worried that Rondo can’t get to the line, can’t make free throws and can’t shoot 3s even though we’re in the pace-and-space/3s-and-free-throws era?”
Which is an excellent question to ask in order to explain why Rondo didn't succeed with the Mavericks. Though I would wonder how Rondo succeeded with the Celtics while playing in the same era where pace-and-space/3s-and-free-throws were important. Ah, it's needless to ask. Bill's making shit up again. It seems this era of making free throws and 3s started when Rondo got traded to the Mavericks. That exact day. It's weird how Playoff Rondo never played in this era and managed to succeed regardless.
The Roger Goodell Award for Biggest Hypocrite
Me. For everything in the previous paragraph. See, I absolutely LOVED the Rondo trade for Dallas and thought he was a semi-shell of himself in Boston only because he was playing possum. I haven’t misfired like that since … oh, wait, I’m wrong all the time. On the bright side, we finally got to watch an NBA star carry himself in playoff games with the exact same enthusiasm as a divorced dad ringing the doorbell of his ex-wife’s house.
Bill is admitting he was wrong and is always wrong! This, of course, won't stop him from making up laws/rules/corollaries/lists that prove his own opinion that he's right about something. He's wrong all the time, but this list of four questions, AND ONLY FOUR QUESTIONS, that determine an MVP season? You can totally trust those four FOOL-PROOF questions to be the only questions you need when determining an MVP season, even though Bill is wrong all the time. It's the Gospel of Bill unless it isn't.
I swear, my marriage isn’t in trouble. That Rondo thing was so ugly that I could only think of it in terms of divorce analogies. You should have seen the extended Squid and the Whale analogy that I ended up not using.
I'm sure there is one of Bill's lemming-like followers that would actually be concerned if Bill's marriage is in trouble. These are sad people, if true. Overall, I don't give a shit if Bill's marriage is in trouble or not. Just because your readers read what you write, doesn't mean they care about you personally...or they shouldn't at least.
The Scott Mitchell Award for Biggest Loser
Rondo lost between $30 million and $40 million this summer with that Mavericks fiasco. On the bright side, drunk Lakers fans and drunk Knicks fans everywhere are texting their friends, “Dp you think we csn get Ronddo at a bigf disconyt?”
Apparently Lakers and Knicks fans are texting their friends on phones that don't have auto-correct.
The Last Man on Earth Award for Best New Series That Can’t Be Missed for Any Reason
If you have to explain the award then it sort of ruins the point of naming the award for that new series. Rather than name it "The Last Man on Earth" award, it could just be called "The Award for Best New Series that Can't be Missed for Any Reason." See? Naming it after the show becomes slightly redundant and I don't need the name of the show for the reader to understand what point I'm trying to get across. I know why Bill wants to include the show, because he is constantly compelled to make pop culture references. So the point of including "The Last Man on Earth" isn't to complement the column Bill is writing, but to drop a pop culture reference. Only the best writers include references that don't complement the body of the work he/she is writing.
Spurs-Clips is wildly overqualified for Round 1, which is the biggest reason it’s so damned fun — the NBA equivalent of throwing Matthew McConaughey and Woody Harrelson into eight True Detective episodes.
And Bill is still using "overqualified" as a thing that can describe a playoff series.
Game 2? That one had the intensity, weightiness, electricity and sophistication of an actual Finals game; got derailed by Hack-A-DeAndre and some uncharacteristically horrific Pop/Doc coaching; featured multiple bricks and multiple turnovers and multiple stars coming up short … and yet I absolutely loved being there for it.
Bill Simmons was at this game. He's only mentioned that he was there for the game once, so he felt like he should mention it again in a less-subtle manner so that his readers understand that he was actually there for the game and it was a great experience for Bill personally.
(Quick aside: I’ve been sharing Clips tickets with my friend Tollin since 2008, when I was about to give them up and he said, “Wait, you can’t give them up. What if they become good?” And then we both laughed for about 20 seconds before I said, “Screw it, one more year.” Anyway, we were walking out after Game 2 and Tollin said, “Spurs-Clippers … it’s just never gonna change with these guys, is it?” In other words, the Spurs continue to be the hammer and the Clippers continue to be the nail.)
Yes, it's never going to change with the Clippers. Wait, Bill and "Tollin" do realize how bad the Clippers were prior to be a consistent playoff contender, right? The Clippers were awful, so losing to the Spurs in the playoffs is a major step up for them. Like a big one compared to where they once were as a franchise. So it has changed for the Clippers and there's no "never gonna change" about it.
The Johnny Depp/Tonto Award for Most Glaring Moment That Doubled As a Snapshot for Someone’s Unfortunate Career Decline
If you have to explain why the award is named "Johnny Depp/Tonto Award," then the pop culture reference serves no point then does it? Name the award "Johnny Depp/Tonto Award," but don't explain it. Doing both ruins the point of the reference by making the reference more about the pop culture reference and less about the content of the article. Of course, Bill's writing isn't as snappy without the pop culture references, which should tell me something about his writing ability.
The Charlize Theron in Seth MacFarlane’s Wild West Movie Award for Best Unexpected Reminder That Someone Is Still an All-Time Treasure
I love Charlize. Best combination of looks and talent in the past 20 years. I will defend that lady to the death. Her IMDb page is the equivalent of LeBron being stuck with those crappy late-2000s supporting casts in perpetuity.
Bill loves "Charlize." She's so great and it's not her fault that she chooses to do crappy movies with crappy actors. It's not like she has a choice in the roles she takes. Charlize is just great though. By the way Bill, since you respect her so much, have you had the Theron?
But you know what? How many of these LeBronian playoff eviscerations are left? You know, the ones when he shows up in someone else’s house and breaks windows and plates and tables for two hours as 15,000 to 20,000 exuberant people slowly lose the will to live? Maybe … 15? Does he have 20?
17 more games. I just used the Three Questions for When LeBron Would Stop Dominating to come to this fool-proof conclusion. These three questions I asked myself to get the definitive answer on how many more playoff eviscerations LeBron has left. The questions are:
1. What number did Bill Simmons use? Pick a bigger number than Bill did.
2. What does "playoff evisceration" really mean? It will mean what I want it to be mean after LeBron is retired in order to make the point I want to make. Ask me after LeBron has retired.
3. If I had to pick one number that I wanted to represent how many playoff eviscerations LeBron has left, what would that number be? Does it match the number I want to choose in #1? If not, make them match.
Also, if LeBron has 15 or 20 playoff eviscerations left in him, that's still pretty good. That's the equivalent of 3.75 to 5 more playoff series that LeBron will singlehandedly win by eviscerating the opponent. Plus, 15 to 20 games is equivalent to 3.75 or 5 more playoff games on the road. So if LeBron has 15-20 road playoff game eviscerations left in him still, that's pretty fucking impressive. That's 15-20 road games he will win for his team (presumably the Cavs) in the playoffs. I'd take that. Yet, Bill makes it seem like this is a low number.
I mean, he’s closing in on 44,000 minutes by the end of this postseason.
LeBron eviscerating an opponent on the road for 15-20 more games is still an incredible amount of games. It's shockingly impressive. I'm not sure Bill understands what he's writing. He thinks he's making a great point that LeBron will get tired and not be able to compete at a high level in the playoffs much longer, but he's actually proving the opposite with his guess of 15-20 road games.
LeBron was, I don’t know, maybe EIGHT PERCENT better two years ago during his Miami apex?
Actually Bill, he's 9.87% percent better than he was two years ago during his Miami apex. It's a fact, so don't question it.
Then Bill rosterbates for a minute about potential trades the Raptors could make. I generally hate "what if's," which is a form of speculation that Bill insists on constantly participating in.
The Dragon Babies Award for Best Running Subplot
See? This reference didn't need to be explained. Good for Bill that he figured it out.
Derrick Rose suddenly looking kinda maybe sorta like Derrick Rose again. (Note: I’m obeying all jinxing rules.) Even if they don’t make it past Round 2, he’s reclaimed enough of his trade value that, at the very least, Knicks fans are now petrified that Phil Jackson might flip their top-three pick for Rose in two months.
ALL Knicks fans are concerned about this. It just so happens this Knicks fan represents all Knicks fans because all of Bill's friends represent the opinion of fans from a certain team. Bill knows a Knicks fan who feels like Phil Jackson will trade for Derrick Rose, so Knicks fans in general obviously feel this same way.
Good time to morph into a mini-mailbag.
Welp, this gimmick has run out. Time for a new one.
As always, these are actual questions from actual readers.
Sure they are. I believe it. If they are actual readers, their questions are also heavily edited, but I also don't believe all of these readers are real. I try to believe that real humans can't be as pathetic as those who write into Bill's mailbags are.
Q: Derrick Rose carrying the Bulls to the 2015 championship would be the best playoff story in NBA history, right?
—Dominic G., Champaign, IL
Here’s your current top five:
This is the official top five with no exceptions. None at all. It's the Gospel of Bill Simmons.
2. A running-on-fumes Celtics dynasty winning its last title (11 out of 13!) even though (a) player-coach Bill Russell and crunch-time god Sam Jones were retiring after the season, (b) they didn’t have home court in any playoff series, (c) they were heavy Finals dogs against a Lakers team that had Wilt, Elgin AND West, (d) three of their four Finals games were won in the final minute, (e) they won Game 7 on the road partly because a pissed-off Russell had stumbled upon the Lakers’ elaborate postgame plan for a balloon celebration.
I would have been shocked if the Celtics weren't a part of this top five.
3. The 2014 Spurs redeem the worst Finals loss ever while simultaneously murdering the LeBron era in Miami.
Really? This is one of the five greatest playoff stories in NBA history? I disagree.
Here’s what I love about Rose’s story (if it plays out in the best possible way): It’s like a sports movie, right? Local kid wins MVP, signs two huge contracts with the Bulls and Adidas, blows out his knee, comes back, keeps getting hurt, never gives up … and suddenly he’s holding a Finals MVP, crying on the podium and hugging his mom (played by Octavia Spencer) and his brother (played by Anthony Anderson). “Based on a true story: Michael B. Jordan plays Derrick Rose in The Rebound.”
It is like a shitty sports movie that I would have no chance of watching. In Bill's opinion all sporting events are basically just pop culture references waiting to happen. Throw a few narratives in there and create some fake drama, that's all Bill wants to do. Then he will find tenuous ties between sports and pop culture. It's his dream that's become reality.
Q: On various podcasts, you’ve mentioned how home court advantage may no longer exist due to various reasons (StubHub, increasing cost, HDTV is so good). Flash forward to Wednesday night — had the Clips not given away Game 2, home teams would have been 14-2 in the first round. Have fun with that, road teams! Enjoy that SIMMONS STINK! SIMMONS!
—Ross, Santa Barbara, CA
Will Bill say, "I made it up and I'm full of shit"? Of course not. He doesn't like to be wrong. Just ask him, he'll tell you.
BS: My defense, only because I hate being wrong:
Told you.
Couldn’t you say that more people than ever are selling their regular-season tickets, then holding on to their playoff seats? Let’s see how Games 3 and 4 play out.
You could say that, but then Bill would still be absolutely wrong. The statement he has made several times is that home court advantage may no longer exist. Bill doesn't say home court advantage doesn't exist "only in the regular season," so he's wrong, because this home court advantage does seem to have appeared during the 2014-2015 playoffs. And to make matters worse, Bill attempts to weasel out of being wrong by pointing out that home court advantage isn't present in the regular season because more people are selling their regular season tickets, then wants to hold off on a sample of 16 games because he wants to see how two more games play out. But of course.
Q: The year Tim Duncan made his NBA debut, Seinfeld was still on the air, Bill Clinton was still having “sexual relations” with Monica Lewinsky, The English Patient won the Oscar, Spice Girls had the top-selling album, Google didn’t exist and I didn’t know how to masturbate yet (side note: I’m 30 now). Damn.
—Alex V
I'm going to guess that Alex is single and will probably stay single for a while, perhaps until the day his heart stops beating and he's put into the ground with a small group of loved ones who haven't alienated him as he slowly developed a life-long obsession with Bill Simmons gathered for his funeral. I'm guessing that Alex also probably has now learned to masturbate and Bill could be prominently involved with the inspiration Alex received to learn how. I don't even understand the point of writing in to Bill to say these things, other than simply craving the recognition that Bill gives him by printing his email.
It's disturbing to write "I didn't know to masturbate yet" to a man his mid-40's if there isn't some liquor involved and a few dollars exchanging hands immediately after this comment was made. Who writes in to a grown man with children and discusses when he learned to jerk himself off? It's disturbing.
Q: What would you say the LVP rankings of the playoffs are so far? Rondo is obviously first, then I would say D-Will at two.
—Brad, Huntington, WV
Honorable mention: Dame Lillard (even earned a rare TV upbraid from Barkley), Kyle Lowry (is he hurt???), Dirk Nowitzki (for defensive reasons only), Omer Asik (a plus-minus calamity), Masai Ujiri (for freezing at the trade deadline), Kelly Olynyk (could someone tell him the playoffs started?),
It's interesting that after Bill wrote this Kelly Olynyk tried to pull Kevin Love's arm off. I guess he moved off Bill's LVP honorable mention list.
Q: In the DFW area, it seems the common view now is that not resigning Josh Hamilton to a huge deal was a GREAT decision. Watching the Angels try to find ANY way to shed his albatross of a contract, we feel good about the decision. Is that how Boston fans feel about Rondo? Are Boston fans glad they “sold high,” or are they waiting to re-sign him after the season?
—Wes, Dallas
Great question and since Bill speaks for all Celtics fans he will be glad to answer it as if he does really speak for all Celtics fans.
BS: The only four things that would excite Boston fans less than a Rondo return: another 109 inches of snow next winter; the Globe announcing that it had re-signed Dan Shaughnessy for another 15 years; Boston winning the 2024 Summer Olympics bid; and the Red Sox signing Rick Porcello to a four-year, $82.5 million contract extension. (Listening.) Wait, what????
I can't disagree with most of those, but I would like to add that Bill Simmons moving back to Boston or writing another article about how one of his favorite teams defended their title better than any other team in the history of sports probably is something I would be less excited about as well.
Q: Thanks to State Farm we know that every NBA player has a separated-at-birth twin who ends up being an insurance agent. Chris Paul has Cliff, Stephen Curry has Sebastian, John Stockton has Don etc. Who would Rajon Rondo’s twin insurance agent would be?
—Matt, New York
BS: Definitely Rick Rondo, a name that makes him sound like a porn actor, WWE star or twin insurance agent. Are we sure Rick Rondo wasn’t the guy that Boston sent to Dallas three months ago? Your best case for a Rondo resurgence next season: If Dennis Rodman can average 15 rebounds per game in Chicago and win a ring 12 months after his 1995 Spurs flame-out that reverse-peaked with Rodman taking his sneakers off in a huddle during a key timeout in a key playoff game, I’m pretty sure we can’t write off Rondo yet.
Rondo's best case for a resurgence is a case that has absolutely nothing to do with Rajon Rondo. Of course, because 20 years ago Dennis Rodman rebounded from a tough time in San Antonio, this means Rondo can rebound as well. Also, notice how Bill is all like, "I'm pretty sure we can't write Rondo off yet," but he's playing both sides here. Earlier in the column he said the following three statements:
(And before you review Bill's statements, read that last sentence that is in italics again with emphasis on all those words. It sounds dumb when read a loud to emphasize those italicized words.)
Anyway, here are the three statements Bill made earlier in this gimmick-filled mailbag.
The violent, grisly, emotionally scarring and unexpectedly abrupt death of Playoff Rondo ranks right up there with the end of Furious 7 for me. I loved Playoff Rondo almost as much as I loved National TV Rondo.
Only in sports can you pull off the idea of Playoff Rondo. And now it’s dead. R.I.P.
And even worse, they never considered things like, “Should we be worried that Rick Carlisle is a control freak who wants constant ball movement and Rondo loves to dominate the ball and control everything?” and “Should we be worried that Rondo can’t get to the line, can’t make free throws and can’t shoot 3s even though we’re in the pace-and-space/3s-and-free-throws era?”
Bill believes it is too early to write off Rondo, yet he has already declared Playoff Rondo dead (which last time I checked meant, "not alive and won't come back") and said that the Mavericks should have worried about Rondo in an era where getting to the line, making free throws and shooting 3s is so vitally important. It sort of sounds like Bill is writing Rondo off himself, doesn't it?
Maybe Bill means that Playoff Rondo is dead in the same way Bill stated he was a hockey widow. What Bill means is once Rondo starts playing well again, then Playoff Rondo will be back, just like when the Bruins started competing for titles again Bill was right back on the bandwagon. Perhaps Bill also believes that after this season the era of making free throws and shooting 3s will be over. More likely, Bill is playing both sides and can now claim he said not to write Rondo off, while also semi-writing Rondo off himself.
Then Bill makes a reference to an MTV reality television show that I didn't get because I'm an adult and not one of the 14 people left in the world who still watch MTV reality shows. Really, there isn't anything wrong with these shows, but the vigor with which Bill Simmons cares about "Rivals II" or "The Gauntlet" is bizarre.
Q: With the Trail Blazers stunning playoff collapse, the injury to Wes Matthews, and The Assassination of Damian Lillard by the Coward Mike Conley, does LaMarcus Aldridge seriously contemplate leaving this summer? Imagine him and Kawhi in S.A. for the next five years!
—Paul C., Los Altos, CA
BS: I don’t mean to anger Rip City, but we have to discuss this one.
Yes Bill, you can anger an entire city with your opinion. You are that powerful with the bullshit you spew in a mailbag.
You could make a strong case for Aldridge being in play this summer.
Not a strong case, but a strong case.
He’s from Dallas and attended the University of Texas, which opens up going-back-home possibilities in San Antonio (Duncan’s replacement?), Dallas (the Mavs’ new franchise guy?) AND Houston (his best chance for a quickie Finals trip).
Yes, Houston is Aldridge's best chance for a quickie Finals trip. You know, since the Rockets have made it to the Western Conference Finals on a consistent basis and all, plus his game matched with Dwight Howard's game on the low block aren't guaranteed to work together. Now Bill begins to ramble and contradict himself about how Aldridge wants to be more famous and get more commercials, even stating:
And by the way, Lillard is the Blazer getting commercials these days, not Aldridge. If you don’t think that matters to these guys, you’re crazy.
So of course playing with Howard and Harden, replacing Duncan, and going to a lesser Mavs team is the goal then, right? Actually these three teams and the "homecoming" possibility Bill threw out there was just a way to kill space and get to the real teams Bill thought Aldridge will want to play for. You'll never guess who one of the teams are. Never, ever guess. Think "homecoming in Texas," and then think the opposite of that.
Which makes me think Orlando (assets + talent + youth + Florida), Boston (assets + youth + role players + President Stevens + great owner/front office) and New York (biggest market, Carmelo, top-three pick, cap space) could be legitimate LaMarcus players here.
The Celtics are on the list Bill made of potential LaMarcus Aldridge destinations? No way! And of course Bill has stated before that few free agents want to play for the Knicks and Aldridge would be competing with Carmelo Anthony for commercials. Why wouldn't Aldridge want to come play for the Celtics? Doesn't every player want to come to Boston?
Four months ago, I would have said it was a 99 percent chance he stayed. Right now, it has to be 50/50. And dropping.
Gosh Bill, I have it at 64.3% right now. There must be something wrong with your "insistence on pulling a number out of thin air and hope it means something" metric.
If it means something to him to retire in Portland someday, he’ll stay. If not, he’ll leave. But it’s definitely not the best basketball situation for him.
And of course, going to one of three teams that are rebuilding, and one team specifically that is always rebuilding...now that is the best basketball situation for LaMarcus Aldridge.
Q: Do you think Tim Duncan has a painting with his soul entrapped in it that he is not allowed to look at?
—Michael, Binghamton, NY
BS: It can’t be ruled out. Important Duncan note that jumps out when you watch him in person … his left leg does not work.
His left leg does not work? I wonder if Duncan is aware of this? More importantly, why the fuck would I have to watch him in person to notice this? Isn't this noticeable on television or is this one of those dick-swinging things that Bill does where he acts like he is an expert on a team/player because he saw that team/player in person?
Q: I went and played golf with three friends on Sunday. After we played, we went to a bar to drink beer, eat wings and watch the NBA playoffs.
That's fucking great, Jeff from Webster, Texas. I'm glad you had a great day and felt the need to email Bill Simmons about it. I should probably just be happy Jeff didn't write in to Bill talking about when he learned to jerk off. It's really scary to think about the emails Bill receives which he doesn't publish. What do Bill's pathetic SimmonsClones write in that isn't appropriate to be published on Grantland? Anyway, back Jeff's riveting fucking day that I absolutely care about and is relevant to his question.
When we got to the bar the Hawks and Nets were playing. On another TV, My 600 Lb Life was on. I was more interested in the struggles of a 600 lb woman than watching another horrible Eastern Conference Playoff Series. I have been watching the NBA Playoffs since 1987 religiously every year but I had zero interest in this game. Can we please start a petition to have the playoffs reseeded by record?
—Jeff, Webster, TX
Well Jeff, Adam Silver was initially against it. Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut...now that YOU have zero interest in one playoff series then I think he's probably going to change his mind. The world does revolve around you and your opinions and experiences ARE representative of the NBA-loving population as a whole. So yes, consider it done.
BS: When I take over as President Hillary’s sports czar in 2017, all American professional sports leagues will be forced to adopt a “You have to finish .500 or better to make the playoffs” rule and we’ll never have to worry about things like the dead-eyed Nets making the playoffs over Westbrook and the Thunder again.
But Bill, if the Thunder had made the playoffs then you couldn't point out how the Thunder trading James Harden was so stupid and it's proven by the fact the Thunder didn't make the playoffs this season. So it's good the Thunder didn't make the playoffs, because it allowed you a chance to ignore the three injuries the Thunder have suffered around playoff time to all three stars they have over the past three seasons, all in an effort to pretend the team as it is currently built can't make it back to the NBA Finals.
Q: What are we naming the tanking process for the 2015-16 NBA season now that your illegitimate son, Ben Simmons, is poised to be the top pick? Can we come up with something as good as “Suck for Luck” or “Riggin’ for Wiggins”? What about “Trimmin’ for Simmons” or “The Skid for Bill’s Kid?”
—Bryce, Dayton
I think Skal Labissiere is going to have something to say about that.
BS: Putting “Lossie for the Aussie” and “Skimmin’ for Simmons” as placeholders until the readers can top it.
What Bill means by "until the readers can top it" is "Until a reader comes up with an idea that I will immediately top in one of my mailbags because I have to be the smartest, most clever guy in the room."
Q: When we’re first introduced to Jaime Lannister in Game of Thrones, he’s having sex with his SISTER and then PUSHES A KID OUT OF A WINDOW (intending to kill him). Amazingly, by the end of that season we’re thinking, “Ah, he’s not so bad. Pretty charming, actually.” Now we’re actively rooting for him. Can you think of another instance where a real person or a character did something so despicable, only to later turn babyface?
—Trent Smith, Cary
BS: It would have to be something really egregious and really unrealistic — like LeBron failing to bring Cleveland a title, then ditching Cleveland in his prime on a live television special so he could team up with Wade and Bosh in Miami, winning two titles for the Heat and making four straight Finals, then heroically returning to Cleveland like nothing ever happened.
Considering that LeBron specifically addressed leaving Cleveland in the letter he (or someone else) wrote in "Sports Illustrated" when he chose to return to Cleveland this past offseason, I wouldn't say that he returned to Cleveland like nothing ever happened. LeBron specifically addressed his reasons for leaving Cleveland, his success in Miami and his reasons for his return to Cleveland, so I wouldn't say he returned "like nothing happened."
Q: On Sunday night, Marten Weiner (aka Mad Men’s Glen Bishop) and Austin Rivers faced off tonight in a primetime showdown to determine which one of them is the most flagrant example of nepotism currently on television. Can we just start calling Rivers “Glen Bishop” right now? After all, they might both be going off the air soon.
—Jimmy, Los Angeles
This questions leads to a story from Bill about his son. Because, of course it does. Sadly, SimmonsClones eat up stories about Bill's family because they are so desperate to know their idol and feel like he understands them.
BUT I can totally identify with Weiner-Rivers syndrome. You’re always going to overrate your own son. Just this week, my 7-year-old son figured out how to rig NHL 15 to start goalie fights — he plays the Kings’ opponent, repeatedly goes offside and makes runs at Jonathan Quick, and then, when Quick gets upset, he switches controllers and presses the “Y” button until Quick is fighting with the other team’s goalie. It’s the dumbest, most brilliant video-game strategy I have ever witnessed.
Obviously Bill's son is an absolute genius. This is the important takeaway from this story.
Q: Has there ever been a show with a more pointless “Scenes from next week’s episode” than the Mad Men montage at the end of each episode? With gems like “Get me a drink” and “Who’s there?”, I figure next week’s episode could just as well be about making a turkey sandwich or assembling furniture than running an ad agency.
—Dave, Greensboro
Oh, Dave from Greensboro. You disappoint me by writing into Bill. You are from Greensboro, be better than that. I will file this under "Observations everyone made during Season 2 of 'Mad Men'" It's all been done. Welcome to the party, pal.
Q: For our senior trip, my high school graduating class went to Disneyland for the day. We entered the park at 7 a.m. and thirty minutes later saw Robin Lopez in line for a ride by himself wearing a Chip n’ Dale Rescue Rangers shirt. (I am still baffled their exists a market for seven foot men who want to wear shirts with Disney characters on them). Being from Arizona we wildly greeted him, as he had absolutely bombed for the Suns two years prior, to which we received the least enthusiastic wave in recorded history. Several hours later we saw a jovial Asian family riding the River Rapids ride with Robin Lopez as the sixth person on the ride. The sheer comedy of a diminutive Asian family and a seven foot NBA player with a red afro sharing the same ride cannot be explained, it seriously might have been the funniest thing I have ever seen. At 10 PM I again saw him completely alone, and again tried to start a conversation with him, which he completely ignored. In case your keeping track, that’s 13 hours at Disneyland, completely by himself, wearing a children’s T-shirt.
—Daniel Skelly, Scottsdale
BS: I never run I saw (fill in the celebrity) and something funny happened emails in the mailbag,
Bill prefers for the only "I saw (fill in celebrity) and something happened" emails to be stories that he tells in his mailbags. Bill prefers to be the one doing the starfucking and relating HILARIOUS stories about running into celebrities and interacting with them.
So I believe this story and it made me laugh.
So Bill doesn't run these stories because he doesn't believe they are true normally? That's what my takeaway should be? But of course, Bill's stories about running into celebrities are all true. Everyone else is a lying about meeting celebrities, but let Bill tell this hilarious story about running into the guy who played the quarterback on "Friday Night Lights!" Quick, he'll Instagram a picture so everyone knows he met a famous person.
And yup, these are my readers.
Yes, they talk to you about when they started jerking themselves off. You should not be proud of this.
Before we tackle a few mailbag questions, I need to jack up some shots to get loose. Let’s rip through a few quick Round 1 awards.
Bill can't even get through writing part of a column without attaching some gimmick to it. It's becoming ridiculous.
Stand under the basket and rebound for me, please. Seriously. Go down there. And throw me nice, crisp passes right at my chest. Thanks.
You can almost hear Bill counting out the words to make sure the introduction is long enough to merit moving on to the awards. He feels like his introduction has to be more than two sentences, so he rambles a little bit.
The Game of Thrones Award for Most Enjoyable Viewing Experience
Game 1 of Clips-Spurs featured two all-time Blake dunks; the best-ever CP3-and-Blake-peaking-in-the-same-game performance; Aron Baynes being defiled in so many different ways that everyone in Staples Center kept waiting for the Gimp from Pulp Fiction to climb out of a trunk;
Everyone in the crowd was immediately thinking about a pop-culture reference to a 21 year old movie while at a sporting event.
In 10 years of owning Clips season tickets, that’s the fourth-best Clips game I’ve ever attended, trailing only Game 7 of Warriors-Clips in 2014, LeBron vs. Peak Dumbleavy in 2009 and the unforgettable 2007 contest when Tim Thomas played 30 minutes without ever crossing either 3-point line.
Great, glad you had a good time. My main concern is whether Bill Simmons has a good time at a Clippers game and where he would rank this Clippers game in the Official Pantheon of Clippers Games That He Has Attended. This is all I'm concerned about.
The Joe House/Other Shoe Theory Award for Worst But Most Inevitable Playoff Loss
In Game 3 against Golden State, the Pelicans blew a 55-point fourth-quarter lead in less than four minutes (all numbers approximate) in such an unsurprising meltdown that (a) I had to catch a 6:11 a.m. Acela train this morning from Boston to New York, (b) I was lying in my hotel bed at midnight thinking to myself, I could go to sleep right now and I’d get five solid hours, and (c) I stayed awake only because the Warriors AND Monty Williams were involved. Any member of the 400-Hour Club (those who have watched more than 400 hours of League Pass this season) learned by December never to give up on a seemingly insurmountable Pelicans lead or Warriors deficit. This was the perfect storm.
You can tell that Bill's parents spent a good portion of his childhood telling him just how fucking special and important he was. Bill has to create special, exclusive clubs that he's a member of in order to give himself some sense of authority for the statements he's made. So Bill's opinion that the playoff loss was inevitable comes from Bill's opinion that 400 hours of watching League Pass gives him the knowledge to know this. So to sum it up, Bill's opinion the lead was not insurmountable was proven by Bill's opinion (after the fact of course) that he had watched enough basketball this year to come to the conclusion. Personally, I could know the lead wasn't insurmountable because the Warriors won 67 games this year and the Hornets are the #8 seed. But that's just me.
Additional note for the history nerds out there: For the 2015 Warriors to go down as an all-time team, they need to win the title AND finish 16-4 in the playoffs AND sweep at least two series AND submit a few memorable lay-the-smack-down games along the way AND create three or four iconic moments (like Curry’s game-saving Shoulda-Been-A-Four-Pointer).
Additional note for Bill Simmons: He doesn't make the rules and the Warriors don't have to do all of this and can still be considered an all-time team. His opinion isn't the fact upon which all other judgments should be based.
Additional additional note for Bill Simmons: Lay-the-smack-down games and iconic moments are completely subjective metrics and have zero meaning as to whether the Warriors are an all-time team.
The G-Baby Award for Most Depressing Sports Funeral
The violent, grisly, emotionally scarring and unexpectedly abrupt death of Playoff Rondo ranks right up there with the end of Furious 7 for me. I loved Playoff Rondo almost as much as I loved National TV Rondo.
IT'S ONLY BECAUSE RONDO COULDN'T MOTIVATE HIMSELF TO PLAY IN THE PLAYOFFS WHEN HE'S NOT IN FRONT OF THE GREATEST FAN BASE IN SPORTS! NO ONE DENIES THIS IS TRUE!
I would love to know how my wife handled it if we were to go out for dinner once a week for four weeks, and every time, I wouldn’t say that much and would act weird but make just enough jokes to make the dinner passable … only every time we went out with another couple, I’d be hilarious and gregarious and charismatic and keep telling everyone, “You’re with Double-Date Simmons tonight!!!!!”
Bill's wife would probably point out that your jokes aren't as hilarious as he thinks they are and I think he seems to have the on-air charisma of a cardboard cut-out, so it's probably not much better in person. I do like how Bill clearly thinks so highly of himself to where he knows he can be hilarious, gregarious and charismatic any time that he wants to. It's quite the ego that Bill has to where he thinks, "I can make anyone like me any time I want because I have all these positive characteristics."
You know what would happen? She’d dump Double Date Simmons and Regular Season Simmons. Only in sports can you pull off the idea of Playoff Rondo.
You are an abomination.
The Comedy Central Not Locking Up John Oliver Award for Biggest Mistake
Dallas gambled (AND ruined their bench AND wasted a first-round pick) by flagrantly violating the “You can get away with one head case, just don’t give him someone to hang out with” rule by teaming up Monta Ellis and Rondo.
This is a hard-and-fast rule, just as long as you ignore that Dennis Rodman played on the same team as Adrian Dantley, Bill Laimbeer, and Rick Mahorn. Those guys may not have been all head cases, but they weren't always easy to get along with. But whatever, I'm sure Bill believes this rule is hard-and-fast because he made it up.
And even worse, they never considered things like, “Should we be worried that Rick Carlisle is a control freak who wants constant ball movement and Rondo loves to dominate the ball and control everything?” and “Should we be worried that Rondo can’t get to the line, can’t make free throws and can’t shoot 3s even though we’re in the pace-and-space/3s-and-free-throws era?”
Which is an excellent question to ask in order to explain why Rondo didn't succeed with the Mavericks. Though I would wonder how Rondo succeeded with the Celtics while playing in the same era where pace-and-space/3s-and-free-throws were important. Ah, it's needless to ask. Bill's making shit up again. It seems this era of making free throws and 3s started when Rondo got traded to the Mavericks. That exact day. It's weird how Playoff Rondo never played in this era and managed to succeed regardless.
The Roger Goodell Award for Biggest Hypocrite
Me. For everything in the previous paragraph. See, I absolutely LOVED the Rondo trade for Dallas and thought he was a semi-shell of himself in Boston only because he was playing possum. I haven’t misfired like that since … oh, wait, I’m wrong all the time. On the bright side, we finally got to watch an NBA star carry himself in playoff games with the exact same enthusiasm as a divorced dad ringing the doorbell of his ex-wife’s house.
Bill is admitting he was wrong and is always wrong! This, of course, won't stop him from making up laws/rules/corollaries/lists that prove his own opinion that he's right about something. He's wrong all the time, but this list of four questions, AND ONLY FOUR QUESTIONS, that determine an MVP season? You can totally trust those four FOOL-PROOF questions to be the only questions you need when determining an MVP season, even though Bill is wrong all the time. It's the Gospel of Bill unless it isn't.
I swear, my marriage isn’t in trouble. That Rondo thing was so ugly that I could only think of it in terms of divorce analogies. You should have seen the extended Squid and the Whale analogy that I ended up not using.
I'm sure there is one of Bill's lemming-like followers that would actually be concerned if Bill's marriage is in trouble. These are sad people, if true. Overall, I don't give a shit if Bill's marriage is in trouble or not. Just because your readers read what you write, doesn't mean they care about you personally...or they shouldn't at least.
The Scott Mitchell Award for Biggest Loser
Rondo lost between $30 million and $40 million this summer with that Mavericks fiasco. On the bright side, drunk Lakers fans and drunk Knicks fans everywhere are texting their friends, “Dp you think we csn get Ronddo at a bigf disconyt?”
Apparently Lakers and Knicks fans are texting their friends on phones that don't have auto-correct.
The Last Man on Earth Award for Best New Series That Can’t Be Missed for Any Reason
If you have to explain the award then it sort of ruins the point of naming the award for that new series. Rather than name it "The Last Man on Earth" award, it could just be called "The Award for Best New Series that Can't be Missed for Any Reason." See? Naming it after the show becomes slightly redundant and I don't need the name of the show for the reader to understand what point I'm trying to get across. I know why Bill wants to include the show, because he is constantly compelled to make pop culture references. So the point of including "The Last Man on Earth" isn't to complement the column Bill is writing, but to drop a pop culture reference. Only the best writers include references that don't complement the body of the work he/she is writing.
Spurs-Clips is wildly overqualified for Round 1, which is the biggest reason it’s so damned fun — the NBA equivalent of throwing Matthew McConaughey and Woody Harrelson into eight True Detective episodes.
And Bill is still using "overqualified" as a thing that can describe a playoff series.
Game 2? That one had the intensity, weightiness, electricity and sophistication of an actual Finals game; got derailed by Hack-A-DeAndre and some uncharacteristically horrific Pop/Doc coaching; featured multiple bricks and multiple turnovers and multiple stars coming up short … and yet I absolutely loved being there for it.
Bill Simmons was at this game. He's only mentioned that he was there for the game once, so he felt like he should mention it again in a less-subtle manner so that his readers understand that he was actually there for the game and it was a great experience for Bill personally.
(Quick aside: I’ve been sharing Clips tickets with my friend Tollin since 2008, when I was about to give them up and he said, “Wait, you can’t give them up. What if they become good?” And then we both laughed for about 20 seconds before I said, “Screw it, one more year.” Anyway, we were walking out after Game 2 and Tollin said, “Spurs-Clippers … it’s just never gonna change with these guys, is it?” In other words, the Spurs continue to be the hammer and the Clippers continue to be the nail.)
Yes, it's never going to change with the Clippers. Wait, Bill and "Tollin" do realize how bad the Clippers were prior to be a consistent playoff contender, right? The Clippers were awful, so losing to the Spurs in the playoffs is a major step up for them. Like a big one compared to where they once were as a franchise. So it has changed for the Clippers and there's no "never gonna change" about it.
The Johnny Depp/Tonto Award for Most Glaring Moment That Doubled As a Snapshot for Someone’s Unfortunate Career Decline
If you have to explain why the award is named "Johnny Depp/Tonto Award," then the pop culture reference serves no point then does it? Name the award "Johnny Depp/Tonto Award," but don't explain it. Doing both ruins the point of the reference by making the reference more about the pop culture reference and less about the content of the article. Of course, Bill's writing isn't as snappy without the pop culture references, which should tell me something about his writing ability.
The Charlize Theron in Seth MacFarlane’s Wild West Movie Award for Best Unexpected Reminder That Someone Is Still an All-Time Treasure
I love Charlize. Best combination of looks and talent in the past 20 years. I will defend that lady to the death. Her IMDb page is the equivalent of LeBron being stuck with those crappy late-2000s supporting casts in perpetuity.
Bill loves "Charlize." She's so great and it's not her fault that she chooses to do crappy movies with crappy actors. It's not like she has a choice in the roles she takes. Charlize is just great though. By the way Bill, since you respect her so much, have you had the Theron?
But you know what? How many of these LeBronian playoff eviscerations are left? You know, the ones when he shows up in someone else’s house and breaks windows and plates and tables for two hours as 15,000 to 20,000 exuberant people slowly lose the will to live? Maybe … 15? Does he have 20?
17 more games. I just used the Three Questions for When LeBron Would Stop Dominating to come to this fool-proof conclusion. These three questions I asked myself to get the definitive answer on how many more playoff eviscerations LeBron has left. The questions are:
1. What number did Bill Simmons use? Pick a bigger number than Bill did.
2. What does "playoff evisceration" really mean? It will mean what I want it to be mean after LeBron is retired in order to make the point I want to make. Ask me after LeBron has retired.
3. If I had to pick one number that I wanted to represent how many playoff eviscerations LeBron has left, what would that number be? Does it match the number I want to choose in #1? If not, make them match.
Also, if LeBron has 15 or 20 playoff eviscerations left in him, that's still pretty good. That's the equivalent of 3.75 to 5 more playoff series that LeBron will singlehandedly win by eviscerating the opponent. Plus, 15 to 20 games is equivalent to 3.75 or 5 more playoff games on the road. So if LeBron has 15-20 road playoff game eviscerations left in him still, that's pretty fucking impressive. That's 15-20 road games he will win for his team (presumably the Cavs) in the playoffs. I'd take that. Yet, Bill makes it seem like this is a low number.
I mean, he’s closing in on 44,000 minutes by the end of this postseason.
LeBron eviscerating an opponent on the road for 15-20 more games is still an incredible amount of games. It's shockingly impressive. I'm not sure Bill understands what he's writing. He thinks he's making a great point that LeBron will get tired and not be able to compete at a high level in the playoffs much longer, but he's actually proving the opposite with his guess of 15-20 road games.
LeBron was, I don’t know, maybe EIGHT PERCENT better two years ago during his Miami apex?
Actually Bill, he's 9.87% percent better than he was two years ago during his Miami apex. It's a fact, so don't question it.
Then Bill rosterbates for a minute about potential trades the Raptors could make. I generally hate "what if's," which is a form of speculation that Bill insists on constantly participating in.
The Dragon Babies Award for Best Running Subplot
See? This reference didn't need to be explained. Good for Bill that he figured it out.
Derrick Rose suddenly looking kinda maybe sorta like Derrick Rose again. (Note: I’m obeying all jinxing rules.) Even if they don’t make it past Round 2, he’s reclaimed enough of his trade value that, at the very least, Knicks fans are now petrified that Phil Jackson might flip their top-three pick for Rose in two months.
ALL Knicks fans are concerned about this. It just so happens this Knicks fan represents all Knicks fans because all of Bill's friends represent the opinion of fans from a certain team. Bill knows a Knicks fan who feels like Phil Jackson will trade for Derrick Rose, so Knicks fans in general obviously feel this same way.
Good time to morph into a mini-mailbag.
Welp, this gimmick has run out. Time for a new one.
As always, these are actual questions from actual readers.
Sure they are. I believe it. If they are actual readers, their questions are also heavily edited, but I also don't believe all of these readers are real. I try to believe that real humans can't be as pathetic as those who write into Bill's mailbags are.
Q: Derrick Rose carrying the Bulls to the 2015 championship would be the best playoff story in NBA history, right?
—Dominic G., Champaign, IL
Here’s your current top five:
This is the official top five with no exceptions. None at all. It's the Gospel of Bill Simmons.
2. A running-on-fumes Celtics dynasty winning its last title (11 out of 13!) even though (a) player-coach Bill Russell and crunch-time god Sam Jones were retiring after the season, (b) they didn’t have home court in any playoff series, (c) they were heavy Finals dogs against a Lakers team that had Wilt, Elgin AND West, (d) three of their four Finals games were won in the final minute, (e) they won Game 7 on the road partly because a pissed-off Russell had stumbled upon the Lakers’ elaborate postgame plan for a balloon celebration.
I would have been shocked if the Celtics weren't a part of this top five.
3. The 2014 Spurs redeem the worst Finals loss ever while simultaneously murdering the LeBron era in Miami.
Really? This is one of the five greatest playoff stories in NBA history? I disagree.
Here’s what I love about Rose’s story (if it plays out in the best possible way): It’s like a sports movie, right? Local kid wins MVP, signs two huge contracts with the Bulls and Adidas, blows out his knee, comes back, keeps getting hurt, never gives up … and suddenly he’s holding a Finals MVP, crying on the podium and hugging his mom (played by Octavia Spencer) and his brother (played by Anthony Anderson). “Based on a true story: Michael B. Jordan plays Derrick Rose in The Rebound.”
It is like a shitty sports movie that I would have no chance of watching. In Bill's opinion all sporting events are basically just pop culture references waiting to happen. Throw a few narratives in there and create some fake drama, that's all Bill wants to do. Then he will find tenuous ties between sports and pop culture. It's his dream that's become reality.
Q: On various podcasts, you’ve mentioned how home court advantage may no longer exist due to various reasons (StubHub, increasing cost, HDTV is so good). Flash forward to Wednesday night — had the Clips not given away Game 2, home teams would have been 14-2 in the first round. Have fun with that, road teams! Enjoy that SIMMONS STINK! SIMMONS!
—Ross, Santa Barbara, CA
Will Bill say, "I made it up and I'm full of shit"? Of course not. He doesn't like to be wrong. Just ask him, he'll tell you.
BS: My defense, only because I hate being wrong:
Told you.
Couldn’t you say that more people than ever are selling their regular-season tickets, then holding on to their playoff seats? Let’s see how Games 3 and 4 play out.
You could say that, but then Bill would still be absolutely wrong. The statement he has made several times is that home court advantage may no longer exist. Bill doesn't say home court advantage doesn't exist "only in the regular season," so he's wrong, because this home court advantage does seem to have appeared during the 2014-2015 playoffs. And to make matters worse, Bill attempts to weasel out of being wrong by pointing out that home court advantage isn't present in the regular season because more people are selling their regular season tickets, then wants to hold off on a sample of 16 games because he wants to see how two more games play out. But of course.
Q: The year Tim Duncan made his NBA debut, Seinfeld was still on the air, Bill Clinton was still having “sexual relations” with Monica Lewinsky, The English Patient won the Oscar, Spice Girls had the top-selling album, Google didn’t exist and I didn’t know how to masturbate yet (side note: I’m 30 now). Damn.
—Alex V
I'm going to guess that Alex is single and will probably stay single for a while, perhaps until the day his heart stops beating and he's put into the ground with a small group of loved ones who haven't alienated him as he slowly developed a life-long obsession with Bill Simmons gathered for his funeral. I'm guessing that Alex also probably has now learned to masturbate and Bill could be prominently involved with the inspiration Alex received to learn how. I don't even understand the point of writing in to Bill to say these things, other than simply craving the recognition that Bill gives him by printing his email.
It's disturbing to write "I didn't know to masturbate yet" to a man his mid-40's if there isn't some liquor involved and a few dollars exchanging hands immediately after this comment was made. Who writes in to a grown man with children and discusses when he learned to jerk himself off? It's disturbing.
Q: What would you say the LVP rankings of the playoffs are so far? Rondo is obviously first, then I would say D-Will at two.
—Brad, Huntington, WV
Honorable mention: Dame Lillard (even earned a rare TV upbraid from Barkley), Kyle Lowry (is he hurt???), Dirk Nowitzki (for defensive reasons only), Omer Asik (a plus-minus calamity), Masai Ujiri (for freezing at the trade deadline), Kelly Olynyk (could someone tell him the playoffs started?),
It's interesting that after Bill wrote this Kelly Olynyk tried to pull Kevin Love's arm off. I guess he moved off Bill's LVP honorable mention list.
Q: In the DFW area, it seems the common view now is that not resigning Josh Hamilton to a huge deal was a GREAT decision. Watching the Angels try to find ANY way to shed his albatross of a contract, we feel good about the decision. Is that how Boston fans feel about Rondo? Are Boston fans glad they “sold high,” or are they waiting to re-sign him after the season?
—Wes, Dallas
Great question and since Bill speaks for all Celtics fans he will be glad to answer it as if he does really speak for all Celtics fans.
BS: The only four things that would excite Boston fans less than a Rondo return: another 109 inches of snow next winter; the Globe announcing that it had re-signed Dan Shaughnessy for another 15 years; Boston winning the 2024 Summer Olympics bid; and the Red Sox signing Rick Porcello to a four-year, $82.5 million contract extension. (Listening.) Wait, what????
I can't disagree with most of those, but I would like to add that Bill Simmons moving back to Boston or writing another article about how one of his favorite teams defended their title better than any other team in the history of sports probably is something I would be less excited about as well.
Q: Thanks to State Farm we know that every NBA player has a separated-at-birth twin who ends up being an insurance agent. Chris Paul has Cliff, Stephen Curry has Sebastian, John Stockton has Don etc. Who would Rajon Rondo’s twin insurance agent would be?
—Matt, New York
BS: Definitely Rick Rondo, a name that makes him sound like a porn actor, WWE star or twin insurance agent. Are we sure Rick Rondo wasn’t the guy that Boston sent to Dallas three months ago? Your best case for a Rondo resurgence next season: If Dennis Rodman can average 15 rebounds per game in Chicago and win a ring 12 months after his 1995 Spurs flame-out that reverse-peaked with Rodman taking his sneakers off in a huddle during a key timeout in a key playoff game, I’m pretty sure we can’t write off Rondo yet.
Rondo's best case for a resurgence is a case that has absolutely nothing to do with Rajon Rondo. Of course, because 20 years ago Dennis Rodman rebounded from a tough time in San Antonio, this means Rondo can rebound as well. Also, notice how Bill is all like, "I'm pretty sure we can't write Rondo off yet," but he's playing both sides here. Earlier in the column he said the following three statements:
(And before you review Bill's statements, read that last sentence that is in italics again with emphasis on all those words. It sounds dumb when read a loud to emphasize those italicized words.)
Anyway, here are the three statements Bill made earlier in this gimmick-filled mailbag.
The violent, grisly, emotionally scarring and unexpectedly abrupt death of Playoff Rondo ranks right up there with the end of Furious 7 for me. I loved Playoff Rondo almost as much as I loved National TV Rondo.
Only in sports can you pull off the idea of Playoff Rondo. And now it’s dead. R.I.P.
And even worse, they never considered things like, “Should we be worried that Rick Carlisle is a control freak who wants constant ball movement and Rondo loves to dominate the ball and control everything?” and “Should we be worried that Rondo can’t get to the line, can’t make free throws and can’t shoot 3s even though we’re in the pace-and-space/3s-and-free-throws era?”
Bill believes it is too early to write off Rondo, yet he has already declared Playoff Rondo dead (which last time I checked meant, "not alive and won't come back") and said that the Mavericks should have worried about Rondo in an era where getting to the line, making free throws and shooting 3s is so vitally important. It sort of sounds like Bill is writing Rondo off himself, doesn't it?
Maybe Bill means that Playoff Rondo is dead in the same way Bill stated he was a hockey widow. What Bill means is once Rondo starts playing well again, then Playoff Rondo will be back, just like when the Bruins started competing for titles again Bill was right back on the bandwagon. Perhaps Bill also believes that after this season the era of making free throws and shooting 3s will be over. More likely, Bill is playing both sides and can now claim he said not to write Rondo off, while also semi-writing Rondo off himself.
Then Bill makes a reference to an MTV reality television show that I didn't get because I'm an adult and not one of the 14 people left in the world who still watch MTV reality shows. Really, there isn't anything wrong with these shows, but the vigor with which Bill Simmons cares about "Rivals II" or "The Gauntlet" is bizarre.
Q: With the Trail Blazers stunning playoff collapse, the injury to Wes Matthews, and The Assassination of Damian Lillard by the Coward Mike Conley, does LaMarcus Aldridge seriously contemplate leaving this summer? Imagine him and Kawhi in S.A. for the next five years!
—Paul C., Los Altos, CA
BS: I don’t mean to anger Rip City, but we have to discuss this one.
Yes Bill, you can anger an entire city with your opinion. You are that powerful with the bullshit you spew in a mailbag.
You could make a strong case for Aldridge being in play this summer.
Not a strong case, but a strong case.
He’s from Dallas and attended the University of Texas, which opens up going-back-home possibilities in San Antonio (Duncan’s replacement?), Dallas (the Mavs’ new franchise guy?) AND Houston (his best chance for a quickie Finals trip).
Yes, Houston is Aldridge's best chance for a quickie Finals trip. You know, since the Rockets have made it to the Western Conference Finals on a consistent basis and all, plus his game matched with Dwight Howard's game on the low block aren't guaranteed to work together. Now Bill begins to ramble and contradict himself about how Aldridge wants to be more famous and get more commercials, even stating:
And by the way, Lillard is the Blazer getting commercials these days, not Aldridge. If you don’t think that matters to these guys, you’re crazy.
So of course playing with Howard and Harden, replacing Duncan, and going to a lesser Mavs team is the goal then, right? Actually these three teams and the "homecoming" possibility Bill threw out there was just a way to kill space and get to the real teams Bill thought Aldridge will want to play for. You'll never guess who one of the teams are. Never, ever guess. Think "homecoming in Texas," and then think the opposite of that.
Which makes me think Orlando (assets + talent + youth + Florida), Boston (assets + youth + role players + President Stevens + great owner/front office) and New York (biggest market, Carmelo, top-three pick, cap space) could be legitimate LaMarcus players here.
The Celtics are on the list Bill made of potential LaMarcus Aldridge destinations? No way! And of course Bill has stated before that few free agents want to play for the Knicks and Aldridge would be competing with Carmelo Anthony for commercials. Why wouldn't Aldridge want to come play for the Celtics? Doesn't every player want to come to Boston?
Four months ago, I would have said it was a 99 percent chance he stayed. Right now, it has to be 50/50. And dropping.
Gosh Bill, I have it at 64.3% right now. There must be something wrong with your "insistence on pulling a number out of thin air and hope it means something" metric.
If it means something to him to retire in Portland someday, he’ll stay. If not, he’ll leave. But it’s definitely not the best basketball situation for him.
And of course, going to one of three teams that are rebuilding, and one team specifically that is always rebuilding...now that is the best basketball situation for LaMarcus Aldridge.
Q: Do you think Tim Duncan has a painting with his soul entrapped in it that he is not allowed to look at?
—Michael, Binghamton, NY
BS: It can’t be ruled out. Important Duncan note that jumps out when you watch him in person … his left leg does not work.
His left leg does not work? I wonder if Duncan is aware of this? More importantly, why the fuck would I have to watch him in person to notice this? Isn't this noticeable on television or is this one of those dick-swinging things that Bill does where he acts like he is an expert on a team/player because he saw that team/player in person?
Q: I went and played golf with three friends on Sunday. After we played, we went to a bar to drink beer, eat wings and watch the NBA playoffs.
That's fucking great, Jeff from Webster, Texas. I'm glad you had a great day and felt the need to email Bill Simmons about it. I should probably just be happy Jeff didn't write in to Bill talking about when he learned to jerk off. It's really scary to think about the emails Bill receives which he doesn't publish. What do Bill's pathetic SimmonsClones write in that isn't appropriate to be published on Grantland? Anyway, back Jeff's riveting fucking day that I absolutely care about and is relevant to his question.
When we got to the bar the Hawks and Nets were playing. On another TV, My 600 Lb Life was on. I was more interested in the struggles of a 600 lb woman than watching another horrible Eastern Conference Playoff Series. I have been watching the NBA Playoffs since 1987 religiously every year but I had zero interest in this game. Can we please start a petition to have the playoffs reseeded by record?
—Jeff, Webster, TX
Well Jeff, Adam Silver was initially against it. Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut...now that YOU have zero interest in one playoff series then I think he's probably going to change his mind. The world does revolve around you and your opinions and experiences ARE representative of the NBA-loving population as a whole. So yes, consider it done.
BS: When I take over as President Hillary’s sports czar in 2017, all American professional sports leagues will be forced to adopt a “You have to finish .500 or better to make the playoffs” rule and we’ll never have to worry about things like the dead-eyed Nets making the playoffs over Westbrook and the Thunder again.
But Bill, if the Thunder had made the playoffs then you couldn't point out how the Thunder trading James Harden was so stupid and it's proven by the fact the Thunder didn't make the playoffs this season. So it's good the Thunder didn't make the playoffs, because it allowed you a chance to ignore the three injuries the Thunder have suffered around playoff time to all three stars they have over the past three seasons, all in an effort to pretend the team as it is currently built can't make it back to the NBA Finals.
Q: What are we naming the tanking process for the 2015-16 NBA season now that your illegitimate son, Ben Simmons, is poised to be the top pick? Can we come up with something as good as “Suck for Luck” or “Riggin’ for Wiggins”? What about “Trimmin’ for Simmons” or “The Skid for Bill’s Kid?”
—Bryce, Dayton
I think Skal Labissiere is going to have something to say about that.
BS: Putting “Lossie for the Aussie” and “Skimmin’ for Simmons” as placeholders until the readers can top it.
What Bill means by "until the readers can top it" is "Until a reader comes up with an idea that I will immediately top in one of my mailbags because I have to be the smartest, most clever guy in the room."
Q: When we’re first introduced to Jaime Lannister in Game of Thrones, he’s having sex with his SISTER and then PUSHES A KID OUT OF A WINDOW (intending to kill him). Amazingly, by the end of that season we’re thinking, “Ah, he’s not so bad. Pretty charming, actually.” Now we’re actively rooting for him. Can you think of another instance where a real person or a character did something so despicable, only to later turn babyface?
—Trent Smith, Cary
BS: It would have to be something really egregious and really unrealistic — like LeBron failing to bring Cleveland a title, then ditching Cleveland in his prime on a live television special so he could team up with Wade and Bosh in Miami, winning two titles for the Heat and making four straight Finals, then heroically returning to Cleveland like nothing ever happened.
Considering that LeBron specifically addressed leaving Cleveland in the letter he (or someone else) wrote in "Sports Illustrated" when he chose to return to Cleveland this past offseason, I wouldn't say that he returned to Cleveland like nothing ever happened. LeBron specifically addressed his reasons for leaving Cleveland, his success in Miami and his reasons for his return to Cleveland, so I wouldn't say he returned "like nothing happened."
Q: On Sunday night, Marten Weiner (aka Mad Men’s Glen Bishop) and Austin Rivers faced off tonight in a primetime showdown to determine which one of them is the most flagrant example of nepotism currently on television. Can we just start calling Rivers “Glen Bishop” right now? After all, they might both be going off the air soon.
—Jimmy, Los Angeles
This questions leads to a story from Bill about his son. Because, of course it does. Sadly, SimmonsClones eat up stories about Bill's family because they are so desperate to know their idol and feel like he understands them.
BUT I can totally identify with Weiner-Rivers syndrome. You’re always going to overrate your own son. Just this week, my 7-year-old son figured out how to rig NHL 15 to start goalie fights — he plays the Kings’ opponent, repeatedly goes offside and makes runs at Jonathan Quick, and then, when Quick gets upset, he switches controllers and presses the “Y” button until Quick is fighting with the other team’s goalie. It’s the dumbest, most brilliant video-game strategy I have ever witnessed.
Obviously Bill's son is an absolute genius. This is the important takeaway from this story.
Q: Has there ever been a show with a more pointless “Scenes from next week’s episode” than the Mad Men montage at the end of each episode? With gems like “Get me a drink” and “Who’s there?”, I figure next week’s episode could just as well be about making a turkey sandwich or assembling furniture than running an ad agency.
—Dave, Greensboro
Oh, Dave from Greensboro. You disappoint me by writing into Bill. You are from Greensboro, be better than that. I will file this under "Observations everyone made during Season 2 of 'Mad Men'" It's all been done. Welcome to the party, pal.
Q: For our senior trip, my high school graduating class went to Disneyland for the day. We entered the park at 7 a.m. and thirty minutes later saw Robin Lopez in line for a ride by himself wearing a Chip n’ Dale Rescue Rangers shirt. (I am still baffled their exists a market for seven foot men who want to wear shirts with Disney characters on them). Being from Arizona we wildly greeted him, as he had absolutely bombed for the Suns two years prior, to which we received the least enthusiastic wave in recorded history. Several hours later we saw a jovial Asian family riding the River Rapids ride with Robin Lopez as the sixth person on the ride. The sheer comedy of a diminutive Asian family and a seven foot NBA player with a red afro sharing the same ride cannot be explained, it seriously might have been the funniest thing I have ever seen. At 10 PM I again saw him completely alone, and again tried to start a conversation with him, which he completely ignored. In case your keeping track, that’s 13 hours at Disneyland, completely by himself, wearing a children’s T-shirt.
—Daniel Skelly, Scottsdale
BS: I never run I saw (fill in the celebrity) and something funny happened emails in the mailbag,
Bill prefers for the only "I saw (fill in celebrity) and something happened" emails to be stories that he tells in his mailbags. Bill prefers to be the one doing the starfucking and relating HILARIOUS stories about running into celebrities and interacting with them.
So I believe this story and it made me laugh.
So Bill doesn't run these stories because he doesn't believe they are true normally? That's what my takeaway should be? But of course, Bill's stories about running into celebrities are all true. Everyone else is a lying about meeting celebrities, but let Bill tell this hilarious story about running into the guy who played the quarterback on "Friday Night Lights!" Quick, he'll Instagram a picture so everyone knows he met a famous person.
And yup, these are my readers.
Yes, they talk to you about when they started jerking themselves off. You should not be proud of this.
Friday, June 13, 2014
10 comments Bill Simmons Writes About Game 6 of the 2013 NBA Finals; Really It's About Himself Though
Most people who watch sports view a certain sporting event through the prism of where they were that day, what they were doing, and how it made them feel. I think Bill Simmons takes it to a different level though. He somehow manages to go from the prism of where he was to making the sporting event actually about him, then takes his experiences and turns them into actual parts of the sporting event itself. For example, the reaction of a group of people to a sporting event is obviously perfectly mirrored by the reaction of Bill and his friends to this sporting event. So I'm not going to cover Bill's article on Game 6 of the 2013 NBA Finals, but highlight how he makes it about himself in various ways. It's going to be hard not to get off track and break down the article as a whole, so try to bear with me if I do get off track.
With Miami trailing by five points, LeBron James launched a desperation 3 from the top of the key, maybe two steps to the left, and sent the ball sailing over the rim. Actually, it was worse than that — it bounced off the bottom of the backboard like a freaking Super Ball. I watched the trajectory from our makeshift television set across the court, crammed behind San Antonio’s basket, so I could tell right away it was off.
Bill knew LeBron's shot was off immediately because he watched on a television, unlike everyone else in the United States, who were crowded around the radio unable to view the game. Seeing the game on a makeshift television gives Bill insight no else had. LeBron is no Larry Bird, that's for sure.
If any Spur secured the rebound, San Antonio would bring home the title — the fifth for Duncan and Popovich, and probably the sweetest one too. But none of them expected the basketball to carom that quickly.
IF ONLY THEY HAD BEEN WATCHING THE SHOT ON A MAKESHIFT TELEVISION WITH BILL! THEY WOULD HAVE KNOWN!
He played through pain for the entire playoffs. Later that summer, Erik Spoelstra told me that Miami charted Leonard’s rebounds during those seven games — somehow, he caught every rebound that touched his fingers except for two. This was one of the two.
I recognize talking to Erik Spoelstra is part of Bill's job, but I can never shake the feeling he is name-dropping when he writes sentences like this one.
Duncan and his nearly 16,000 career rebounds watched from afar. His three teammates tipped the ball toward Miami’s bench, right to Ray Allen, who immediately turned into Justin Bieber after five joints and 10 cups of sizzurp. The man lost all of his coordination.
Bill having to explain the Justin Bieber reference means he didn't need to use the Justin Bieber reference. It sort of ruins the point of forcing in a reference to Justin Bieber if Bill has to explain the reference. Of course, Bill does prefer to over-describe something with more words than necessary rather than use a direct statement explaining what he means.
The entire sequence took 8.1 seconds. Seven players touched the ball. Leonard, Miller and LeBron touched it twice. Incredibly, Miami was still alive. Timeout, San Antonio.
Bill has already killed space describing the play, so now it's time to talk about Ray Allen's three-point shot, and more importantly, the perspective of Bill Simmons regarding Ray Allen's three-point shot.
I don’t remember much about Game 6. But I absolutely remember standing there in a medicated haze, thinking to myself, Wait a second … they aren’t gonna screw this up, are they?”
After I joined ESPN’s studio crew last season, my biggest fear was getting sick during the Finals.
These are what's known as "first-world problems."
My immune system stinks. Throw me on enough airplanes and I’m probably catching something. I had stayed healthy for eight straight months, with everything falling apart after Game 5 of the Finals. We landed in Miami and I holed up in my hotel room, the thermostat jacked as high as it could go, trying to sweat out whatever evil bronchitis demon had possessed me.
I always wondered about Bill's state of health during Game 6 of the 2013 NBA Finals. I was tortured by a lack of knowledge regarding whether Bill was completely healthy or not and how this affected Ray Allen's shot.
You can’t call in sick for television. You don’t have a choice; you have to keep going.
I'll try to remember not to call in sick for television.
And so I wore my best suit and one of my favorite ties. They caked my face with makeup. They used drops to save my reddened eyes. You wouldn’t have known I was ill, even if I felt like I was heading for my own funeral. Right down to how my body had been prepared. And that’s how I watched one of the greatest basketball games ever — in a foggy haze. I remember Duncan dropped 25 points in the first half, torching Miami like he was 25 years old again. I remember discussing him at halftime, wondering if we’d remember it as the Duncan Game — his unexpected last chapter, the night that could cement his legacy as his generation’s defining player. I don’t remember much else.
"I, I, I, I,"...this article is about the legacy of Game 6 of the 2013 NBA Finals, which is obviously inextricably tied in with Bill's health.
During that now-fateful timeout with San Antonio up five, Jalen Rose and I watched NBA officials wheel the Larry O’Brien Trophy into the runway to our right. It couldn’t have been farther than 15 feet from us. We watched security guards assume positions around the court, and we watched Heat employees hastily sticking up yellow rope around the courtside seats. Like they were cordoning off a homicide scene. Even after LeBron’s second-gasp 3, I still thought we were going home. Some Heat fans had already trickled out. We watched them leave in disbelief.
I know some of your Simmonsites out there think I'm being picky about criticizing Bill for making the legacy of Game 6 partly about him. I don't think I am. He's inserting himself into the narrative, which is not unnecessary. Bill could easily have written the paragraph above in this way:
"During the now-fateful timeout with San Antonio up five, Jalen Rose and I watched NBA officials wheel the Larry O'Brien Trophy into the runway to our right. It was so close to us, just like it was so close for the Spurs. Heat employees were cordoning off the courtside seats like a homicide scene and Heat fans were trickling out. The Spurs were going home champs."
My point is that it doesn't have to be about Bill and what HE thought was happening because others clearly thought this too. He's not telling a narrative about the game, but a narrative about HIMSELF and the game. This narrative isn't about the Heat, the Spurs or Game 6, it's about Bill Simmons and what was going on around him, which just happened to be Game 6 of the NBA Finals. He makes the story about himself.
Also, Bill states he thought "we" were going home, but he was in disbelief Heat fans were leaving. That's a little bit of a contradiction. If he thought the Spurs were winning then so did the Heat fans and that's why they were leaving. I'm not defending the Heat fans, simply pointing out it's fine for Bill to believe the game is over, but he's in disbelief Heat fans would think the same thing?
How many current players could have nailed these specific free throws? Maybe 10 total? Leonard clanged the first one. Mayhem. He made the second one, and by the way, I will always respect Kawhi for making that second one.
I am sure Leonard sleeps better at night knowing Bill Simmons respects him for hitting the second free throw.
After Miami’s timeout, we watched in disbelief as Pop removed Duncan for the ensuing defensive possession. How can you keep the power forward GOAT off the floor twice? Jalen and I were flipping out.
See what I mean? The story is about Bill Simmons and what goes on around him, not about Game 6 of the NBA Finals.
What was Pop thinking? As we were venting, they started playing basketball again.
How rude of them to start playing basketball again while you and Jalen Rose are venting. Actually, I think this sentence sums up my issue with Bill's writing pretty well.
"As we were venting, they started playing basketball again."
The basketball game is nothing but a side show to what is really important in this story, which is Bill's own personal thoughts (in this case, his venting) about the side show. Bill inserts himself into the legacy of Game 6 by making his thoughts a part of the action.
I watched Ray Allen play for my favorite team for five years.
Bill has inside information that no one else has regarding Allen, because he watched him play for the Celtics for five years. And yes, there was no way this article was being written without some reference to the Celtics. Even Game 6 of an NBA Finals where the Celtics didn't participate has something to do with the Celtics.
With seven seconds left in Game 6, suddenly, we were in one of those situations. And I knew just from watching him backpedal those first two steps.
Bill knew. He was watching on the makeshift television and knew Ray Allen would hit this shot. This shot isn't about Ray Allen hitting a three-point shot to extend the series, but is about Bill Simmons KNOWING that is a shot Ray Allen will hit.
He practices footwork as diligently as a ballerina, partly because he’s a perfectionist, partly out of basketball OCD, and partly because he always wants to be prepared for anything. And you know what’s really crazy? Ray Allen is enough of a lovable weirdo that he practiced this specific shot. In fact, he’s been practicing it since his Milwaukee days.
I would imagine that Ray Allen has practiced a three-point shot from the corner with time running down throughout his career. He's one of the best three-point shooters in NBA history. The corner is one of his good spots on the court (and I know because played for my favorite team for five years, so I'm a huge expert on Ray Allen now) and I think most people who play basketball have practiced step-back shots that win the game before.
Nobody in NBA history was better prepared for this moment.
Except if a player who wasn't an ex-Celtic hit this shot then Bill would probably say it was only Larry Bird who was slightly better prepared. For the sake of hyperbole right now, nobody but Ray Allen was better prepared for this moment.
It’s the last point that amazed me the most. The 3-point territory in the corners isn’t exactly cavernous. You have maybe three feet in all. Misjudge it one way and you’re touching the line, costing yourself a point. Misjudge it the other way and you’re out of bounds.
Fortunately, Ray Allen is like 58 years old and has shot this exact shot probably 10,000 times in his NBA career. He makes his living shooting three-point shots, so what's not easy for others is easy for Allen. But don't worry, this small three-point territory is harder than you think because Bill Simmons plays basketball and obviously he is a good comparison to Ray Allen in this situation.
Every time I play pickup basketball on an NBA court, I’m always startled by the lack of room in those corners.
And since Bill is a professional basketball player and not a 40+ year old man who plays in pickup games against other older men, then the fact he's startled by the lack of room in these corners means something. Again, this shot by Ray Allen must be looked at through the prism of Bill Simmons' experience of shooting three-point shots from the corner of an NBA court.
And with all of that said … I knew that shot was going in.
I would have wagered anything. Even with a 102-degree temperature, even with dried contacts, even with a lump of phlegm wedged in my throat, even with everything feeling vaguely white and hazy — the same way you feel right before you die, I’m guessing — I saw the future once Ray started moving backward. I had watched him nail those shots too many times. Nobody had been better in those moments. Nobody. I remember yelping when the shot went through. I remember the fans losing their minds. I remember thinking, There’s no way he didn’t step on a line; it’s impossible, even for Ray, there’s just no way.
That's nine "I's," or "my's" in one sentence and a short paragraph. Again, this column isn't about Ray Allen's shot, but is about how Bill Simmons knew Ray Allen's shot was going in. This is a good example of how Bill's writing has become more and more self-referential. He went from the voice of the normal fan to believing he is THE voice of the fan and his experience is as important as the event itself.
They started reviewing the play. We whirled around and studied replays on our undersized monitor. Unbelievable. Never touched either line. You could compare it to only one other NBA shot: Kareem’s walk-off sky hook in Game 6 of the 1974 Finals, which saved Milwaukee at the buzzer in double overtime. If Kareem missed it, Boston took the title. If he made it, Milwaukee hosted Game 7. He made it. One problem: The Celtics flew to Milwaukee and won the title there, anyway.
Boston Celtics. Boston Celtics. NBA title.
If you or I caught that pass as we were backpedaling, then launched a desperation 3 with someone running at us, we’d screw up every time.
Eh, maybe. You or I certainly wouldn't hit the shot as frequently as Ray Allen would hit the shot.
When I played at Staples Center a few months ago, I kept trying Ray’s shot with Grantland’s Dave Jacoby playing the role of Bosh. It’s just about impossible to furiously backpedal and land perfectly between those two lines, much less launch a coherent 3-pointer. It’s a wildly unrealistic ask for normal NBA players, much less normal humans. Ray Allen is neither.
I didn't realize Bill Simmons had tried that shot at Staples Center (like how Bill specifically points out where he tried it out, because basketball courts are all different sizes and all so he wasn't simply mentioning he's played at Staples Center and where he attempted this shot was VERY important information). Obviously if Bill couldn't do it then there is no way anyone else could hit the shot. Bill's experience is the same experience as anyone else because he is the voice of the fan and if Bill can't hit the shot, then how could anyone else?
You wouldn’t want anyone else shooting that shot other than Ray Allen. His whole career led to those three seconds. It really did.
Not that Bill is being a little overdramatic or hyperbolic in stating one of the best three-point shooters of all-time, a future Hall of Famer and two-time NBA Champion's career all led up to this one shot. Seems reasonable.
I love so many things about the NBA, but over everything else, it’s those moments when you know you’re seeing something special — something that will get replayed forever, something that lets you say, “Yeah, I was there,” and someone else turns into Will Hunting and screams, “Really? You were there? YOU WERE FUCKING THERE?” I was there for Gar Heard’s miracle heave in Boston, Bird’s steal from Isiah and Magic’s baby sky hook over McHale and Parish. Now, I was there for Ray’s 3. That’s four all-timers. Only Ray’s moment remains hazy. Everything was white and blurry, and then, there was Ray, and everything got clear for a second. Yeah, I was there.
The legacy of Game 6 of the 2013 NBA Finals is that Bill was there for it.
And here’s what happens when you’re there: You’re crammed around a basketball court watching these physical freaks bring out the best in each other, and occasionally, something unbelievable happens, and it creates this sound that can’t even really be described.
I'm sorry I was just misleading you all. The legacy of Game 6 of the NBA Finals is Bill was there and there is a certain indescribable sound during an important moment. There was a basketball game, but that was completely secondary to Bill being there and the sound the game made.
It shattered a magnificent San Antonio team and kept Miami’s three-peat alive. And it guaranteed that Ray Allen would make the Hall of Fame on the first ballot.
If Ray Allen misses that shot, he is still a first ballot Hall of Famer. One shot that misses isn't going to force Ray Allen to wait an additional year to make the Hall of Fame.
Our studio show popped on TV after midnight. Wilbon went first, then Magic, then Jalen, then me. I declared that no NBA team had ever come closer to winning a title without actually winning a title, which I hoped was true.
Now the truly important about Game 6's legacy. What did Bill Simmons say after the game was over? That's obviously part of Game 6's legacy. Bill made a statement that he wasn't sure had factual backing, but now that he is a full-fledged talking head who works for ESPN, nobody gives a shit if what he says is accurate or not. It's about getting attention and saying something that sounds really interesting and perceptive. Fuck accuracy.
(It was.)
In a shocking turn of events, Bill Simmons agrees that Bill Simmons' statement made after Game 6 was true. It was rough sledding there for a bit. I was concerned Bill would judge his own statement as being false. Fortunately, because Bill Simmons states his own opinion as being true, then obviously Bill's opinion is indeed factual.
We bantered for a few minutes, then returned a few minutes later and did it again. We filmed a couple more segments, then we were done. The whole thing wasn’t nearly as fulfilling as I expected. In retrospect, I would have rather written about it.
Important to know when discussing Game 6 of the 2013 NBA Finals. Vital information being shared here.
Instead, I returned to my hotel room, cranked the thermostat to 80 and crashed. I stayed in bed for the next 36 hours. I lost six pounds. I finished the first half of Season 5 of Breaking Bad. I watched the Bruins blow a Stanley Cup game. I launched an antibiotics cycle with help from an NBA doctor. I ordered room service and barely touched it. I felt like a failure for never writing a Game 6 column. I took hot shower after hot shower, since it was the only thing that made my head feel better. I wondered if I would make it to Game 7. I remember every single thing about that dark room.
"Me, me, me, me, me."
Only the most self-involved of sportswriters could write a column titled, "The Legacy of Game 6" as in introduction to an NBA Finals rematch and spend inordinate amounts of time forcing himself into the narrative of the series.
Around 4 p.m. the following afternoon, the TV adrenaline started kicking in. We were five hours away from Game 7. I took another hot shower, shaved my face, slipped on a wrinkled suit, knotted a colorful tie, gnawed on another cough drop. Then I pulled open the curtains to my room, the light blinding me from every angle. I waited for my eyes to adjust, and when they did, I could see the water and the buildings lurking in front of me. Downtown Miami was waiting. So was Game 7.
Again, how in the holy fuck is this important information in relation to the 2013 NBA Finals? It's irrelevant to the 2014 NBA Finals, but Bill is such a self-involved person that he feels what he was feeling and doing in regard to the 2013 Finals is vitally important to the legacy of the series. It's fine to write from your own point of view, as long as the main topic being discussed isn't eclipsed by your point of view. The story has to revolve around the NBA Finals with Bill's perspective providing background, not revolve around Bill's perspective with the Finals as the background.
Most franchises would have been broken by Game 6. Pop’s team just moved forward. He mentioned being delighted that they didn’t have a “pity party” for themselves. Only Pop would come up with that one. Pity party.
Tons of people use the term "pity party" when things go wrong. So it's not true only Pop would come up with this term. Perhaps Bill hasn't heard the phrase much since he seems to live in a world full of throwing pity parties for himself when his sports teams lose. Pity party isn't something he has to come up with, it's a term he actively lives.
You’d have to go back to 1987 — the rubber match of the Bird-Magic Finals trilogy — for an NBA Finals with more at stake historically for both sides.
More hyperbole! And the hyperbole just happens to involve the Celtics. Another shocking turn of events.
You might remember that sadness drifting into the final minute of Game 7, right after Duncan missed what would have been a game-tying bunny over Shane Battier that he’s probably made 24,326 times in his life. Duncan jogged back downcourt in abject disbelief, like someone staggering away from an accident.
Everyone in the arena could read Duncan’s mind. How did we blow this? How? How did that happen? The great Tim Duncan thought he had squandered his last chance.
Or he just couldn't believe he missed the shot. But hey, the mind reading exercise is probably super-accurate too.
And here’s how fast things can flip. Back in October 2003, the Red Sox choked away Game 7 in Yankee Stadium, one of the most demoralizing defeats in franchise history.
(Makes wanking motion with his hand)
It felt like something of a final straw for Boston fans. We’d be thinking about Grady Little’s mistake and Aaron Boone’s homer forever. The Baseball Gods hated us. It was official. We would live our entire lives, then croak, without ever seeing them win the whole thing. Twelve months later, we won the whole thing. Ten years later, the Boone Game doesn’t matter anymore. I never think about it.
He never thinks about it, except for when he just brought it up as the example of a team who lost the NBA Finals one year and then came back the next year to win the NBA Finals. Bill never thinks about it, except he chose an example that really isn't comparable since the Spurs have already won four NBA titles with Tim Duncan and the Red Sox didn't lose to the Yankees in the World Series. Other than those two difference, the reference to the 2003 Red Sox is totally comparable. Anyway, a Red Sox reference was due.
If the Spurs beat Miami, Allen’s 3 stops haunting them — and if that’s not enough, we’ll remember San Antonio as the greatest franchise of the post-Jordan era.
I was wondering how I would remember it. Thanks for telling me. I certainly know the Lakers who have five titles in the post-Jordan era certainly can't be considered the greatest franchise during that time. That's because they are the Lakers and Bill doesn't like them. It is very good to know how "we'll" remember the Spurs though.
The rematch kicks off Thursday night. Miami and San Antonio, the sequel. You gotta love sports.
I do love sports. I can't wait until Bill writes about the 2014 NBA Finals and updates his readers on what he had for every meal and how this related to the NBA Finals games being played.
With Miami trailing by five points, LeBron James launched a desperation 3 from the top of the key, maybe two steps to the left, and sent the ball sailing over the rim. Actually, it was worse than that — it bounced off the bottom of the backboard like a freaking Super Ball. I watched the trajectory from our makeshift television set across the court, crammed behind San Antonio’s basket, so I could tell right away it was off.
Bill knew LeBron's shot was off immediately because he watched on a television, unlike everyone else in the United States, who were crowded around the radio unable to view the game. Seeing the game on a makeshift television gives Bill insight no else had. LeBron is no Larry Bird, that's for sure.
If any Spur secured the rebound, San Antonio would bring home the title — the fifth for Duncan and Popovich, and probably the sweetest one too. But none of them expected the basketball to carom that quickly.
IF ONLY THEY HAD BEEN WATCHING THE SHOT ON A MAKESHIFT TELEVISION WITH BILL! THEY WOULD HAVE KNOWN!
He played through pain for the entire playoffs. Later that summer, Erik Spoelstra told me that Miami charted Leonard’s rebounds during those seven games — somehow, he caught every rebound that touched his fingers except for two. This was one of the two.
I recognize talking to Erik Spoelstra is part of Bill's job, but I can never shake the feeling he is name-dropping when he writes sentences like this one.
Duncan and his nearly 16,000 career rebounds watched from afar. His three teammates tipped the ball toward Miami’s bench, right to Ray Allen, who immediately turned into Justin Bieber after five joints and 10 cups of sizzurp. The man lost all of his coordination.
Bill having to explain the Justin Bieber reference means he didn't need to use the Justin Bieber reference. It sort of ruins the point of forcing in a reference to Justin Bieber if Bill has to explain the reference. Of course, Bill does prefer to over-describe something with more words than necessary rather than use a direct statement explaining what he means.
The entire sequence took 8.1 seconds. Seven players touched the ball. Leonard, Miller and LeBron touched it twice. Incredibly, Miami was still alive. Timeout, San Antonio.
Bill has already killed space describing the play, so now it's time to talk about Ray Allen's three-point shot, and more importantly, the perspective of Bill Simmons regarding Ray Allen's three-point shot.
I don’t remember much about Game 6. But I absolutely remember standing there in a medicated haze, thinking to myself, Wait a second … they aren’t gonna screw this up, are they?”
After I joined ESPN’s studio crew last season, my biggest fear was getting sick during the Finals.
These are what's known as "first-world problems."
My immune system stinks. Throw me on enough airplanes and I’m probably catching something. I had stayed healthy for eight straight months, with everything falling apart after Game 5 of the Finals. We landed in Miami and I holed up in my hotel room, the thermostat jacked as high as it could go, trying to sweat out whatever evil bronchitis demon had possessed me.
I always wondered about Bill's state of health during Game 6 of the 2013 NBA Finals. I was tortured by a lack of knowledge regarding whether Bill was completely healthy or not and how this affected Ray Allen's shot.
You can’t call in sick for television. You don’t have a choice; you have to keep going.
I'll try to remember not to call in sick for television.
And so I wore my best suit and one of my favorite ties. They caked my face with makeup. They used drops to save my reddened eyes. You wouldn’t have known I was ill, even if I felt like I was heading for my own funeral. Right down to how my body had been prepared. And that’s how I watched one of the greatest basketball games ever — in a foggy haze. I remember Duncan dropped 25 points in the first half, torching Miami like he was 25 years old again. I remember discussing him at halftime, wondering if we’d remember it as the Duncan Game — his unexpected last chapter, the night that could cement his legacy as his generation’s defining player. I don’t remember much else.
"I, I, I, I,"...this article is about the legacy of Game 6 of the 2013 NBA Finals, which is obviously inextricably tied in with Bill's health.
During that now-fateful timeout with San Antonio up five, Jalen Rose and I watched NBA officials wheel the Larry O’Brien Trophy into the runway to our right. It couldn’t have been farther than 15 feet from us. We watched security guards assume positions around the court, and we watched Heat employees hastily sticking up yellow rope around the courtside seats. Like they were cordoning off a homicide scene. Even after LeBron’s second-gasp 3, I still thought we were going home. Some Heat fans had already trickled out. We watched them leave in disbelief.
I know some of your Simmonsites out there think I'm being picky about criticizing Bill for making the legacy of Game 6 partly about him. I don't think I am. He's inserting himself into the narrative, which is not unnecessary. Bill could easily have written the paragraph above in this way:
"During the now-fateful timeout with San Antonio up five, Jalen Rose and I watched NBA officials wheel the Larry O'Brien Trophy into the runway to our right. It was so close to us, just like it was so close for the Spurs. Heat employees were cordoning off the courtside seats like a homicide scene and Heat fans were trickling out. The Spurs were going home champs."
My point is that it doesn't have to be about Bill and what HE thought was happening because others clearly thought this too. He's not telling a narrative about the game, but a narrative about HIMSELF and the game. This narrative isn't about the Heat, the Spurs or Game 6, it's about Bill Simmons and what was going on around him, which just happened to be Game 6 of the NBA Finals. He makes the story about himself.
Also, Bill states he thought "we" were going home, but he was in disbelief Heat fans were leaving. That's a little bit of a contradiction. If he thought the Spurs were winning then so did the Heat fans and that's why they were leaving. I'm not defending the Heat fans, simply pointing out it's fine for Bill to believe the game is over, but he's in disbelief Heat fans would think the same thing?
How many current players could have nailed these specific free throws? Maybe 10 total? Leonard clanged the first one. Mayhem. He made the second one, and by the way, I will always respect Kawhi for making that second one.
I am sure Leonard sleeps better at night knowing Bill Simmons respects him for hitting the second free throw.
After Miami’s timeout, we watched in disbelief as Pop removed Duncan for the ensuing defensive possession. How can you keep the power forward GOAT off the floor twice? Jalen and I were flipping out.
See what I mean? The story is about Bill Simmons and what goes on around him, not about Game 6 of the NBA Finals.
What was Pop thinking? As we were venting, they started playing basketball again.
How rude of them to start playing basketball again while you and Jalen Rose are venting. Actually, I think this sentence sums up my issue with Bill's writing pretty well.
"As we were venting, they started playing basketball again."
The basketball game is nothing but a side show to what is really important in this story, which is Bill's own personal thoughts (in this case, his venting) about the side show. Bill inserts himself into the legacy of Game 6 by making his thoughts a part of the action.
I watched Ray Allen play for my favorite team for five years.
Bill has inside information that no one else has regarding Allen, because he watched him play for the Celtics for five years. And yes, there was no way this article was being written without some reference to the Celtics. Even Game 6 of an NBA Finals where the Celtics didn't participate has something to do with the Celtics.
With seven seconds left in Game 6, suddenly, we were in one of those situations. And I knew just from watching him backpedal those first two steps.
Bill knew. He was watching on the makeshift television and knew Ray Allen would hit this shot. This shot isn't about Ray Allen hitting a three-point shot to extend the series, but is about Bill Simmons KNOWING that is a shot Ray Allen will hit.
He practices footwork as diligently as a ballerina, partly because he’s a perfectionist, partly out of basketball OCD, and partly because he always wants to be prepared for anything. And you know what’s really crazy? Ray Allen is enough of a lovable weirdo that he practiced this specific shot. In fact, he’s been practicing it since his Milwaukee days.
I would imagine that Ray Allen has practiced a three-point shot from the corner with time running down throughout his career. He's one of the best three-point shooters in NBA history. The corner is one of his good spots on the court (and I know because played for my favorite team for five years, so I'm a huge expert on Ray Allen now) and I think most people who play basketball have practiced step-back shots that win the game before.
Nobody in NBA history was better prepared for this moment.
Except if a player who wasn't an ex-Celtic hit this shot then Bill would probably say it was only Larry Bird who was slightly better prepared. For the sake of hyperbole right now, nobody but Ray Allen was better prepared for this moment.
It’s the last point that amazed me the most. The 3-point territory in the corners isn’t exactly cavernous. You have maybe three feet in all. Misjudge it one way and you’re touching the line, costing yourself a point. Misjudge it the other way and you’re out of bounds.
Fortunately, Ray Allen is like 58 years old and has shot this exact shot probably 10,000 times in his NBA career. He makes his living shooting three-point shots, so what's not easy for others is easy for Allen. But don't worry, this small three-point territory is harder than you think because Bill Simmons plays basketball and obviously he is a good comparison to Ray Allen in this situation.
Every time I play pickup basketball on an NBA court, I’m always startled by the lack of room in those corners.
And since Bill is a professional basketball player and not a 40+ year old man who plays in pickup games against other older men, then the fact he's startled by the lack of room in these corners means something. Again, this shot by Ray Allen must be looked at through the prism of Bill Simmons' experience of shooting three-point shots from the corner of an NBA court.
And with all of that said … I knew that shot was going in.
I would have wagered anything. Even with a 102-degree temperature, even with dried contacts, even with a lump of phlegm wedged in my throat, even with everything feeling vaguely white and hazy — the same way you feel right before you die, I’m guessing — I saw the future once Ray started moving backward. I had watched him nail those shots too many times. Nobody had been better in those moments. Nobody. I remember yelping when the shot went through. I remember the fans losing their minds. I remember thinking, There’s no way he didn’t step on a line; it’s impossible, even for Ray, there’s just no way.
That's nine "I's," or "my's" in one sentence and a short paragraph. Again, this column isn't about Ray Allen's shot, but is about how Bill Simmons knew Ray Allen's shot was going in. This is a good example of how Bill's writing has become more and more self-referential. He went from the voice of the normal fan to believing he is THE voice of the fan and his experience is as important as the event itself.
They started reviewing the play. We whirled around and studied replays on our undersized monitor. Unbelievable. Never touched either line. You could compare it to only one other NBA shot: Kareem’s walk-off sky hook in Game 6 of the 1974 Finals, which saved Milwaukee at the buzzer in double overtime. If Kareem missed it, Boston took the title. If he made it, Milwaukee hosted Game 7. He made it. One problem: The Celtics flew to Milwaukee and won the title there, anyway.
Boston Celtics. Boston Celtics. NBA title.
If you or I caught that pass as we were backpedaling, then launched a desperation 3 with someone running at us, we’d screw up every time.
Eh, maybe. You or I certainly wouldn't hit the shot as frequently as Ray Allen would hit the shot.
When I played at Staples Center a few months ago, I kept trying Ray’s shot with Grantland’s Dave Jacoby playing the role of Bosh. It’s just about impossible to furiously backpedal and land perfectly between those two lines, much less launch a coherent 3-pointer. It’s a wildly unrealistic ask for normal NBA players, much less normal humans. Ray Allen is neither.
I didn't realize Bill Simmons had tried that shot at Staples Center (like how Bill specifically points out where he tried it out, because basketball courts are all different sizes and all so he wasn't simply mentioning he's played at Staples Center and where he attempted this shot was VERY important information). Obviously if Bill couldn't do it then there is no way anyone else could hit the shot. Bill's experience is the same experience as anyone else because he is the voice of the fan and if Bill can't hit the shot, then how could anyone else?
You wouldn’t want anyone else shooting that shot other than Ray Allen. His whole career led to those three seconds. It really did.
Not that Bill is being a little overdramatic or hyperbolic in stating one of the best three-point shooters of all-time, a future Hall of Famer and two-time NBA Champion's career all led up to this one shot. Seems reasonable.
I love so many things about the NBA, but over everything else, it’s those moments when you know you’re seeing something special — something that will get replayed forever, something that lets you say, “Yeah, I was there,” and someone else turns into Will Hunting and screams, “Really? You were there? YOU WERE FUCKING THERE?” I was there for Gar Heard’s miracle heave in Boston, Bird’s steal from Isiah and Magic’s baby sky hook over McHale and Parish. Now, I was there for Ray’s 3. That’s four all-timers. Only Ray’s moment remains hazy. Everything was white and blurry, and then, there was Ray, and everything got clear for a second. Yeah, I was there.
The legacy of Game 6 of the 2013 NBA Finals is that Bill was there for it.
And here’s what happens when you’re there: You’re crammed around a basketball court watching these physical freaks bring out the best in each other, and occasionally, something unbelievable happens, and it creates this sound that can’t even really be described.
I'm sorry I was just misleading you all. The legacy of Game 6 of the NBA Finals is Bill was there and there is a certain indescribable sound during an important moment. There was a basketball game, but that was completely secondary to Bill being there and the sound the game made.
It shattered a magnificent San Antonio team and kept Miami’s three-peat alive. And it guaranteed that Ray Allen would make the Hall of Fame on the first ballot.
If Ray Allen misses that shot, he is still a first ballot Hall of Famer. One shot that misses isn't going to force Ray Allen to wait an additional year to make the Hall of Fame.
Our studio show popped on TV after midnight. Wilbon went first, then Magic, then Jalen, then me. I declared that no NBA team had ever come closer to winning a title without actually winning a title, which I hoped was true.
Now the truly important about Game 6's legacy. What did Bill Simmons say after the game was over? That's obviously part of Game 6's legacy. Bill made a statement that he wasn't sure had factual backing, but now that he is a full-fledged talking head who works for ESPN, nobody gives a shit if what he says is accurate or not. It's about getting attention and saying something that sounds really interesting and perceptive. Fuck accuracy.
(It was.)
In a shocking turn of events, Bill Simmons agrees that Bill Simmons' statement made after Game 6 was true. It was rough sledding there for a bit. I was concerned Bill would judge his own statement as being false. Fortunately, because Bill Simmons states his own opinion as being true, then obviously Bill's opinion is indeed factual.
We bantered for a few minutes, then returned a few minutes later and did it again. We filmed a couple more segments, then we were done. The whole thing wasn’t nearly as fulfilling as I expected. In retrospect, I would have rather written about it.
Important to know when discussing Game 6 of the 2013 NBA Finals. Vital information being shared here.
Instead, I returned to my hotel room, cranked the thermostat to 80 and crashed. I stayed in bed for the next 36 hours. I lost six pounds. I finished the first half of Season 5 of Breaking Bad. I watched the Bruins blow a Stanley Cup game. I launched an antibiotics cycle with help from an NBA doctor. I ordered room service and barely touched it. I felt like a failure for never writing a Game 6 column. I took hot shower after hot shower, since it was the only thing that made my head feel better. I wondered if I would make it to Game 7. I remember every single thing about that dark room.
"Me, me, me, me, me."
Only the most self-involved of sportswriters could write a column titled, "The Legacy of Game 6" as in introduction to an NBA Finals rematch and spend inordinate amounts of time forcing himself into the narrative of the series.
Around 4 p.m. the following afternoon, the TV adrenaline started kicking in. We were five hours away from Game 7. I took another hot shower, shaved my face, slipped on a wrinkled suit, knotted a colorful tie, gnawed on another cough drop. Then I pulled open the curtains to my room, the light blinding me from every angle. I waited for my eyes to adjust, and when they did, I could see the water and the buildings lurking in front of me. Downtown Miami was waiting. So was Game 7.
Again, how in the holy fuck is this important information in relation to the 2013 NBA Finals? It's irrelevant to the 2014 NBA Finals, but Bill is such a self-involved person that he feels what he was feeling and doing in regard to the 2013 Finals is vitally important to the legacy of the series. It's fine to write from your own point of view, as long as the main topic being discussed isn't eclipsed by your point of view. The story has to revolve around the NBA Finals with Bill's perspective providing background, not revolve around Bill's perspective with the Finals as the background.
Most franchises would have been broken by Game 6. Pop’s team just moved forward. He mentioned being delighted that they didn’t have a “pity party” for themselves. Only Pop would come up with that one. Pity party.
Tons of people use the term "pity party" when things go wrong. So it's not true only Pop would come up with this term. Perhaps Bill hasn't heard the phrase much since he seems to live in a world full of throwing pity parties for himself when his sports teams lose. Pity party isn't something he has to come up with, it's a term he actively lives.
You’d have to go back to 1987 — the rubber match of the Bird-Magic Finals trilogy — for an NBA Finals with more at stake historically for both sides.
More hyperbole! And the hyperbole just happens to involve the Celtics. Another shocking turn of events.
You might remember that sadness drifting into the final minute of Game 7, right after Duncan missed what would have been a game-tying bunny over Shane Battier that he’s probably made 24,326 times in his life. Duncan jogged back downcourt in abject disbelief, like someone staggering away from an accident.
Everyone in the arena could read Duncan’s mind. How did we blow this? How? How did that happen? The great Tim Duncan thought he had squandered his last chance.
Or he just couldn't believe he missed the shot. But hey, the mind reading exercise is probably super-accurate too.
And here’s how fast things can flip. Back in October 2003, the Red Sox choked away Game 7 in Yankee Stadium, one of the most demoralizing defeats in franchise history.
(Makes wanking motion with his hand)
It felt like something of a final straw for Boston fans. We’d be thinking about Grady Little’s mistake and Aaron Boone’s homer forever. The Baseball Gods hated us. It was official. We would live our entire lives, then croak, without ever seeing them win the whole thing. Twelve months later, we won the whole thing. Ten years later, the Boone Game doesn’t matter anymore. I never think about it.
He never thinks about it, except for when he just brought it up as the example of a team who lost the NBA Finals one year and then came back the next year to win the NBA Finals. Bill never thinks about it, except he chose an example that really isn't comparable since the Spurs have already won four NBA titles with Tim Duncan and the Red Sox didn't lose to the Yankees in the World Series. Other than those two difference, the reference to the 2003 Red Sox is totally comparable. Anyway, a Red Sox reference was due.
If the Spurs beat Miami, Allen’s 3 stops haunting them — and if that’s not enough, we’ll remember San Antonio as the greatest franchise of the post-Jordan era.
I was wondering how I would remember it. Thanks for telling me. I certainly know the Lakers who have five titles in the post-Jordan era certainly can't be considered the greatest franchise during that time. That's because they are the Lakers and Bill doesn't like them. It is very good to know how "we'll" remember the Spurs though.
The rematch kicks off Thursday night. Miami and San Antonio, the sequel. You gotta love sports.
I do love sports. I can't wait until Bill writes about the 2014 NBA Finals and updates his readers on what he had for every meal and how this related to the NBA Finals games being played.
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