Kobe Bryant was the clearly the biggest part and the moving force behind the Lakers’ 2009 championship run.

But in the Finals, it felt like Kobe was behind the scenes. Like he was conducting the orchestra, instead of playing a solo, for five games.

And perhaps it’s because of Kobe’s deference to his team, and not in spite of it, that he has a fourth ring to add to his trophy case.

The numbers sure don’t lie. Kobe’s line of 32.4 points and 7.4 assists per game is the most prolific points-assists combo since Jerry West—who is responsible for Kobe being a Laker, and subsequently called Bryant the most talented player to ever wear a Lakers uniform—averaged only slightly more points in the 1969 Finals.

A Spider Graph comparing Kobe’s performance during the regular season to his Finals showing reflects clearly how he stepped up his game when it mattered most.

With those numbers, it’s likely that in a few years we’ll remember this Finals series differently. We’ll look at the box score and remember a series where Kobe, in typical Black Mamba style, took over fourth quarters and made clutch shots and compelled the Lakers to victory by sheer force of will.

We probably won’t remember Pau Gasol scoring more than half the team’s points in overtime to bring one game home.

We probably won’t remember Derek Fisher hitting two big threes to bring home another.

We won’t remember Lamar Odom or Trevor Ariza being key in stretches, or Andrew Bynum’s solid key defense that doesn’t show at all in a box score.

Nor will we remember this series, with its 4-1 finish, being close at times.

Team averages over the course of the series show two teams that matched up with each other decently well. A 4-1 win looks like dominance, but graphing the series makes it look anything but lopsided.

What we had in this Finals was a team that—finally—put all the pieces together and resulted in a whole greater than just the sum of its roster talent. This was the Lakers team that had struggled beating Houston in seven games, and looked fatigued before putting away Denver in six.

But whether due to coaching, luck, or the touch of divinity, in the Finals this lineup of players—recognized all season as the deepest, most talented roster in the league—finally clicked.

Kobe wasn’t the defender-taunting, ball-hogging Kobe we tolerated for so long. His game was instead that of quiet determination.

It didn’t feel like he scored 30 points a game, because he didn’t make himself the limelight. He made it all about coming away with the Larry O’Brien Trophy, and whatever that required.

It’s not that Kobe wasn’t there, because he was. It was that he’d stopped being Kobe the individual, and he’d become, instead, a Laker—absorbed in a common goal and nothing distinguishing individual personality over the other Lakers on the floor.

Kobe even tried as hard as he could to give it away. He had a potential game-winner blocked by Hedo Turkoglu to send Game Two into overtime. In Game Four, the other overtime game, he shot only 2-for-9 in the fourth quarter when the Lakers could have iced it without an extra period.

But that’s the point—even when it felt like Kobe was trying too hard, his teammates were there to pick up the slack.

Game Two was when Pau Gasol redeemed himself for last year’s “soft” Finals performance. And Game Four was when Derek Fisher proved that yes, Virginia, you can still play ball at age 34.

So it was perhaps less that Kobe changed, as we make a big deal of, but more that the Lakers’ stars aligned at the right time.

But we keep coming back to Kobe, as we always do. He won his fourth title, stepping out of the ample-sized shadow of Shaquille O’Neal and directly into the shadow of Michael Jordan.

He got the monkey off his back, to use his own phrase, and silenced the haters who have always held it over his head that the Big Diesel was in charge for those first three rings.

Kobe, thereby, cements his place as the second-greatest shooting guard of all time, behind only MJ. He’s not Clyde Drexler anymore, he’s not Jerry West, he’s not Pistol Pete.

He’s better.

And for goodness’ sake, he’s certainly not Scottie Pippen anymore, doomed to always be remembered as a sidekick.

It’s certainly a temptation to think that one player alone can win it all in the game of basketball. It couldn’t be so in football, or baseball, or soccer for obvious reasons. But in basketball—with a relatively small court, and only five players—superstars carry so much more weight.

And we certainly can’t say that the “other” superstar in this series didn’t show up. Dwight Howard was a titan of defense in the paint, having at least two blocks in each game and blowing the roof off with nine in Game Four. But his team went cold, and the squad that lived through their previous playoff series by the three, died in this one by that same three.

The Spider Graphs for both stars are impressive:

The two players almost couldn’t be more different—one a shooting guard and a ruthless scoring assassin who makes plays for himself and (now) others, and the other a huge piece of beef in the paint, working a reliable post game and altering shots with his mere presence—and their graphs show them both excelling in their own departments.

It was, in some ways, a coming-out party for Howard and the Magic, who have nowhere to go but up if they can keep their roster together and grow together as Howard’s game matures.

But for Kobe, it’s hard to say we didn’t see it coming.

All of it. His performance in the Finals, his maturation as a game handler over the last five years, and his fourth ring that nobody can claim belongs to someone else.

In the NBA, greatness isn’t measured by playground posturing or showy performance. It’s measured by what you accomplish.

Kobe Bryant has accomplished just about everything, including losing himself inside a team goal, en route to winning his fourth championship.

And that’s why he’s one of the greatest to ever play the game.

Derek Fisher was the Lakers’ hero for Game Four of the NBA Finals. Twice.

His stat line doesn’t look like much—only 12 points, and he only made 2-7 from beyond the arc—but his two trios came at the best possible times. One tied the game to send it into overtime, and the other gave the Lakers an overtime lead that stuck, for the win.

The Magic had built a substantial lead in the first half, then gave it all away in the second as the Lakers turn a 12-point halftime deficit into a four-point lead entering the fourth quarter. For as up and down as the game went, though, the statistics make for pretty similar team Spider Graphs:

The offensive performances, on the top half of the graph, are almost identical.

The bottom half is where things get interesting. The Magic had a crazy number of blocks, and the Lakers had twice as many steals—reflecting that Orlando dominated big, and the Lakers played slow and quick.

The stat lines agree, as Dwight Howard played a monster 49 minutes (more on that later), and the Lakers got big games from Trevor Ariza and (sort of) Derek Fisher instead of Andrew Bynum and Lamar Odom.

It’s interesting to note also that for the third straight game (meaning everything after Game One, which we now realize was the exception and not the rule) the Magic out-rebounded and out-assisted the Lakers. In essence, they’ve outplayed the Lakers in three straight games—but the Lakers managed to force overtime twice, and then won both those contests.

Now, without wasting any more time, let’s look at the superstar performances:

Kobe’s graph is decent, but the poor shooting is the gaping flaw that keeps it from being nicely rounded like usual. He almost gave the game away by shooting 2-9 in the pivotal fourth quarter, but redeemed himself with two gritty baskets to start overtime.

He hasn’t been, in this series, the clutch player we know him as. But that’s a whole different discussion.

Dwight Howard, on the other hand, has been the king of the Spider Graph in this series. Posting an unworldly nine blocks (nine! blocks!) in the game goes way, way off the charts—not to mention his 21 rebounds.

There is a flaw in his game, though, and it’s just as easy to see here as it is when watching him play. While his defense and rebounding are Bill Walton-type numbers, his offensive output is inconsistent due to limited options.

His typically offensive possession is fairly predictable. Receive the pass deep in the paint, hold the ball low, turn and power over the defender.

The Lakers have figured that out, too, and adding a help defender before the shot (when he has the ball low) has kept him reasonably in check and forced him to earn his points from the foul line, where his shooting has been mediocre at best.

That was true in this game, where he scored 10 points on 12 shots, and adding six from the line (out of 14)—but was even more so in Game Three, where he only got off six shots (though he made five) and added 11 (out of 16) from the line.

Just to bring this point home, it’s then appropriate to mention that a couple of missed Dwight Howard free throws could have iced this game and prevented overtime. But that’s water under the bridge now.

And finally, after a brief reappearance, the point guards of both teams have again been reported missing. While Fisher made it happen with his two clutch three, those add up to half his points:

Jordan Farmar and Shannon Brown combined for 11 minutes of play, so they again didn’t qualify for the graph. Fisher’s play, while not spectacular, hasn’t been a hazard to the Lakers—he tied for the team-highest +/- in this game, with 15—and thus he’s played nearly full games.

If you need context to this graph, compare it to the Kobe-Dwight graph above and realize that they’re on the same scale. The impact that these point guards have had on most of these Finals games, from a statistical standpoint, has been almost completely negligible.

Fisher scored 12, Rafer Alston scored 11, and Jameer Nelson added only two points in 26 minutes. The Magic could be distancing themselves from the Lakers if they got more production from the point—they’re not wearing themselves out defending Fisher, and represent a mostly-untapped source of offense.

Game Five on Sunday will dictate whether we need a Game Six, and to this point it seems 50/50. The Magic have outplayed the Lake Show for the most part, but the Lakers have shown their experience in putting in better clutch performances to win games.

The Orlando Magic hosted the Lakers in Game Three of the NBA Finals, and they weren’t exactly gracious hosts.

The Lakers shot an exceptional 51.3 percent from the field, and cut the Magic lead to zero within the final minutes of the game.

The Magic however, shot a mind blowing NBA Finals-record 62.5 percent and held off the Lakers’ run to take Game Three, 108-104, and breathe some life back into their title hopes.

The team Spider Graphs shed even more light on this opera of offense:

• Both teams’ FG percentage is off the chart, meaning that both teams shot better than the highest season average. Wow.
• Most of the action is in the top half of the graph, meaning there was a lot more offense played than defense. It’s true—each team had a reasonable 13 turnovers, and the high shooting percentage dramatically cut down the number of total rebounds (there were 96 in Game One, 79 in Game Two, and 56 in Game Three).
• The Lakers just got out-hustled, not winning any of the statistical categories. Seeing how well the Magic’s graph swallows up the Lakers’, it’s amazing to think that it came down to the final minute.

So, we’ve had three games and seen three different results: a Lakers blowout win, a close Lakers win, and a close Magic win. What’s been the difference? Who’s been changing?

This is pretty cool—if we graph each team over the course of all three games, we can see who’s been making the difference.

The Lakers’ game graphs have a little bit of variety, but not much—one game had more rebounds, another had more steals.

Their net result is about the same on the offensive side (the top of the graph), though, with a similar showing in assists, reasonably similar shooting percentage, and almost-identical end scores (in the three games they have scored 100, 101, and 104 points, respectively).

The Magic’s graph, though, is where the action is. The bottom of the graph, the defensive side, is all over the map, but look at the offensive numbers. In each game, they’ve bettered their previous game in shooting percentage (29.9, 41.8, 62.5), assists (10, 22, 23), and, the most important part, points (75, 96, 108).

It’s unlikely they can keep going up in the rest of the games, but the trend suggests  the Magic’s most important contributor might never be on the floor: coach Stan Van Gundy.

While Phil Jackson has taken this series in stride, calmly guiding his team with almost laissez-faire coaching, Van Gundy has been the expert tactician.

Not everything has worked, but the charts show that things are improving dramatically overall. If the Game Two game-winner had gone in, they’d be up by one game—and that alley-oop play call was still nothing short of brilliant coaching. It just didn’t go in.

Finally, let’s check in (as always) with our superstar graph, comparing the performances of Kobe Bryant (who hasn’t been mentioned yet in this article) and Dwight Howard (ditto):

Dwight wins this battle, hands down. Look at how his graph dwarfs Kobe’s.

The big man did what he’s paid the big bucks for—21 and 14 with a couple of blocks. He made five of his six field goal attempts, resulting in a literally-off-the-charts percentage, and a good chunk of his points came at the line (he made 11 of 16).

On the flip side, while coach Jackson suggested Bryant didn’t have a great game in Game Two, Bryant’s game lacked its normal luster even more so in Game Three. He led all scorers with 31 points, on 44 percent shooting, but he also led all players in turnovers (four) and shot an uncharacteristic 50 percent from the charity stripe.

If the Magic fluster Kobe again in Game Four, they can even the series and turn it into an effectual best-of-three.

And it helps when they can’t miss.

Kobe Bryant didn’t score 40 points in Game 2, but he didn’t have to. Pau Gasol came to play.

The game went to overtime, but by the end it didn’t feel like it—Gasol scored seven of the Lakers’ 13 overtime points, and the Lakers closed out a five-point victory to go up 2-0 in the series.

The Magic fixed a lot of their Game 1 problems, and the Spider Graphs show a respectable well-rounded effort:

From Game 1 to Game 2, the Magic reversed their deficits in assists (-8 to +2) and rebounds (-14 to +9), and shot a respectable 41.8 percent from the field, up over their abysmal 29.9 percent in Game 1.

If you take a look at the team graph from Game 1, you can see how the Lakers dominated the Magic in all three offensive categories (in the top of the graph)—it wasn’t so in Game 2. But in the end, it paid off to give Kobe some help.

Gasol scored 24 points and pulled down ten boards, putting in his 14th double-double performance in the playoffs—out of a total of 20 games.

Remember, though, that if Courtney Lee’s potentially game-winning layup had gone in at the end of regulation, we’d be telling a completely story. And most of it would have to do with Rashard Lewis.

Lewis scored 34 points to lead the Magic, and he and Hedo Turkoglu combined to shoot 9-18 from behind the arc.

Consider this: At halftime, no Laker had scored more than seven points. No Magic player had scored more than four, except for Lewis—who had scored 20.

Both the Magic and Laker team in this series are unique in that their point guards are nearly invisible. In this game was the first time in the series for either team that a point guard led the team in assists (Jameer Nelson led Orlando with a paltry four), and point guards have combined to score only 45 of the roughly 400 points scored across the two games.

If Nelson was playing to his fullest, this wouldn’t be true. But in this series, it is.

Derek Fisher, who took flak in previous playoff series for being too slow to keep up, has been the highest-scoring point guard (nine points and 12 points)—silencing the detractors who prefer Shannon Brown (no points in either game) or Jordan Farmar (zero points in Game 1, four in Game 2).
To make it visual, here’s a point guard graph averaging both games. I’ve include Fisher, Nelson, and Orlando starter Rafer Alston (I would have included a backup Lakers PG if they had one that had stats worth graphing):

The veteran Fisher is the only one shooting the ball at least reasonably well, and he’s come up with some clutch steals (including two in the overtime period last night). While he’s not going to be the Lakers’ starting point guard for the future because of his age, he’s holding his own in this Finals and hasn’t proved a liability.

And speaking of non-liabilities, Howard’s performance in Game 2 give us a much more balanced superstar graph:

Howard redeemed his girly Game 1 performance by scoring 17 points on 5-10 shooting, but more than anything he came out to play as the Defensive Player of the Year. The bottom half of the graph represents defensive statistical categories, and it doesn’t take a second glance to notice that Howard was a brick wall defensively in the paint.

Kobe’s graph is nice as well, but after his Game 1 work-of-art graph, everything seems like a disappointment.

What we lack between Game 1 and Game 2 are strong trends, since the Magic played so differently in both games. While we’ve criticized the Lakers for being inconsistent during the playoffs, they’re the ones that have played well both nights.

Now the series is off to Orlando, and we’ll see if the Magic can turn things around.

Or if they get the boom boom dropped on them again.

The Lakers and Magic met in LA, and the result wasn’t pretty for Orlando fans.

The Lakers had what the Cavaliers didn’t: a slew of big men to throw at Dwight Howard, and enough length to put pressure on the perimeter shooting. Now that a whole day has passed, I’ve had time to crunch the numbers, and the spider graphs tell us a lot.

First, let’s take a look at the overall team graphs.

The most tell-tale piece, obviously, is the disparity in field goal percentage—the Lakers shot 46.1 percentage, and the Magic shot a bottom-dwelling 29.9 percent (remember that the graphs show adjusted numbers, so the gap appears even larger).

That otherworldly-poor shooting contributes to the high rebound numbers for both teams, for the sheer fact that more missed shots mean more rebounds. The Lakers won the rebound duel, 40-31 (including 15-10 on offensive boards).

Orlando’s assists are low, as well, which is also a result of poor shooting. It means that more points came either from put-backs, or not at all.

It’s worth noting that since the scale of the graph is tuned to the regular season highs, several of these values go off the charts.

So what does it mean? For one thing, it means that the Lakers won the big man battle. You can see that in the team graphs without even looking at individual stats. The big man stats (FG%, rebounds, and blocks) center at the lower left of the graph, and the Lakers dominate there.

Any team shooting that low of a percentage is not getting good production in the paint (where a good center can typically shoot around 50 percent). And while the Magic had one more block than the Lakers (eight to seven), the rebounds gap speaks volumes about problems in the middle.

And you probably know the actual numbers already—Dwight Howard ended with only 12 points, and ten of them were from the free throw line. That’s right—he only made one basket in 35 minutes. Backup Marcin Gortat made more field goals than the superstar, All-Star, gold-medal-winning Howard—by making two.

The other clear point is that the Orlando offense struggled all around. The graphs are structured so that the top of the graph is offensive measures, and the bottom half is defensive. Look at the top half of the graph, and the difference in area covered by the two graphs is shocking. The Lakers led—no, dominated—in all three offensive categories.

Isn’t it interesting how those offensive stats are all tied together? A low shooting percentage correlates with both fewer assists and more rebounds. The Lakers were hitting on all cylinders—passing to get a good shot (measured by assists), making those shots (FG%), and pounding the boards when they didn’t (rebounds). Those add up to their 25-point victory.

The results of the other graph aren’t going to surprise anybody. It’s what I call the superstar graph—Kobe vs. Dwight. Here it is:

Kobe’s graph is like poetry. Look how well-rounded it is. Look how his points are way, way off the charts. Kobe played like an all-time Great, and like someone who’s not going to let this series get away.

Dwight’s, however, is a fiasco. For the first time in the history of spider graphs we see a negative value, as his 16.7 percentage shooting fell below the 25 percent threshold the graph is built on—that’s why the origin (center) is not included in the graph’s area. He couldn’t eke out more blocks or steals than Kobe, and his 15 rebounds are his only saving grace.

One of the main purposes of the spider graphs is to show, at a glance, all-around player performance. It speaks volumes about Kobe’s all-around performance Thursday night. And it likewise speaks volumes about how completely Dwight was shut down offensively.

Fellow Bleacher Report writer Ro Frac already pointed out how these charts hearken back to the original graph comparing the two teams’ performance over the whole season (found in this article here). In that graph, the Lakers and the Magic had almost identical rebound numbers—the difference being that they reflect an individual effort of Howard’s for the Magic, and an overall team effort for the Lakers.

It’s clear which won out in Game One.

We can’t expect to see Howard so completely shut down in the games to come, but we do know that the Lakers have the size and the tools to push Orlando around.

If you haven’t seen these before, don’t go any further before reading the original article. This article is a follow-up, based on feedback and comments received in the first go-around.

I’d also like to say thanks to everybody who contributed, either in the comments of that article or elsewhere. I think this is the start of something good.

The main piece of feedback I received in the first run of Spider Graphs was that playoff data should also be included—despite my best efforts to argue that it wouldn’t change much.

At the risk of tooting my own horn, it turns out it didn’t change much. I’m not going to add any commentary, except that I’m not sure there’s any visible difference at all. There just weren’t enough playoff games to make a statistically significant difference.

I’m pasting those at the end, and getting to some more interesting stuff first.

The other suggestion I got was to also run a team graph, comparing the teams as a whole. I did that, and it looks pretty cool.

It includes the whole team, not just starters, and the values are percentages against the teams with the highest values in the league. Here it is:

What do we get out of this? A few things.

• The Lakers come out on top for steals. If the conclusion in the original article holds true, that’s going to mean that LA is a quicker team, and might be able to give the Magic some headaches that way.
• The Lakers win in assists, too. That’s surprising, since we tend to think of Orlando as a selfless team, always making the extra pass around the perimeter. It may speak to Howard’s style of play, though, with plenty of put-backs and post play. I’m not sure this gives the Lakers as much advantage as it would appear.
• The teams tie (roughly) in rebounds, which is surprising since Howard can pull down 20 a night. It may be because he tends to be the only Magic player that really hangs out in the paint, while the Lakers usually have at least two (out of Bynum, Gasol, and Odom) that patrol the key.

It’s a pretty cool graph, and it actually reverses some predictions from yesterday—while it seemed that Orlando had personnel advantages at several positions, this graph gives LA the nod overall.

Do you think it would be interesting to see these charts after a game, just showing how the players performed in that game? Or over the course of a series? I’ve just realized that spider graphs may be a great tool for post-game analysis as well.

Now, for everyone who asked for them, here are the individual position matchup charts.

The graphs are designed to give an overall view of a player in a single glance, based on their statistics from the regular season. It’s interesting to see the differences between players, and in this series, the graphs especially give unexpected insights into one-on-one mismatches.

I’m going to skip over my technical methodology and cut right to the charts.

Edit: A follow-up to this article, incorporating some of the suggestions in the comments, has now been posted here.

The Magic and Cavaliers only played two different games in their six-game series.

They just played each one three times.

It’s not our design here to explore how individual plays, sets, or players affected the game. That’s been done and the answers are clear—Orlando’s consistent pick-and-roll offense, paired with the deepest roster of three-point shooters in the league, outlasted a one-man Cleveland team.

Done and done.

But looking at each game as a whole gives us a fresh perspective, and tells us the whole story in a single glance.

As a visual aid, I present the game flow charts of each game, as charted by the folks over at ESPN.

If you’re unfamiliar with such charts, they graph points scored (on the Y axis) against time (the X axis). So which ever team is on top, vertically, is leading at that time. The left side is the beginning of the game, the right side is the end.

Look for flat spots—those are times when a team was kept scoreless for a time. A sharp slant upward means they scored a lot of points quickly. Any time the lines cross is a lead change.

These charts are useful for getting an overall picture of how the game played out—who got hot when, and how close the game was from start to finish.

With the Cavs represented as dark blue and the Magic as light blue, here are Games One, Two, and Five, all held in Cleveland (the original charts are found on the ESPN site here, here, and here):

Look similar at all?

In the three games in Cleveland, the Cavs jumped out to an early lead in each game by exploding out of the gate with unmatchable transition offense. Then they tired out after the quarter, held on to the lead until the break, and then gave away the farm in the second half.

LeBron James fought it at the end every time, of course. But with all three games close at the end, Orlando was able to steal one.

Stan Van Gundy couldn’t have been more pleased with how Games One and Two went against the top-seeded team in the league. They gave away a big lead early in each game, but stuck by their guns. In each case, they were able to come back.

Yet it wasn’t a dramatic comeback in any game, as you can see. It was the fact that Orlando has a roster full of guys that can run the pick-and-roll, and they ran it for 48 minutes.

In contrast, here’s Games Three, Four, and Six—the games in Orlando (the original ESPN charts are here, here, and here):

In Orlando, the game flow was completely different. The Cavs didn’t have a home crowd to leverage into momentum early, and the game stayed close throughout.

James poured in an absurd amount of points, but was countered by the Magic’s extraordinarily-consistent pick-and-roll execution. Throw in a couple of lead changes, perhaps, and then the game’s close to the end.

The Magic win all three, thanks to their depth of clutch shooters.

It’s not a perfect formula, of course—Game Six in Orlando certainly wasn’t close throughout. James didn’t unload with as many points either. Maybe that was the cause, maybe it was the effect.

You have to give Cleveland credit for keeping it close in Games Three and Four against a merciless Orlando crowd.

But while James was scoring 40 points and trying alone to will his team to victory, the Magic were still spreading the ball around and running the pick-and-roll with whoever was playing at the time—consistently getting fairly equal scoring from Turkoglu, Lewis, Alston, Pietrus, and Lee.

It’s clear that this depth was a big piece of the difference for the Magic. Much was made about the struggles of Mo Williams and Delonte West over the course of the series, whereas no one on the Orlando roster had that sort of pressure (aside from Dwight Howard, who completely delivered).

It’s not flashy, but consistent offense won four games against the Cleveland juggernaut.

And it landed Orlando in the Finals.

There’s no coincidence that the two teams meeting in the finals have two of the deepest rosters of scoring weapons.

What Orlando does with Howard and their slew of three-point-shooting forwards and guards, Los Angeles can counter with Kobe Bryant, Pau Gasol, Andrew Bynum, Lamar Odom, Trevor Ariza, etc.

It’s going to be a good finals. The Magic will certainly have a chance if they keep playing their game.

The Lakers-Nuggets Western Conference Finals was a great series to watch.

We were treated to games won by last-minute steals, aggressive defense from both sides, and Carmelo matching Kobe point-for-point. The Lakers lived up to expectations by taking the series, but it was the Nuggets that made it fun to watch.

The following is my list of highlights from the Lakers-Nuggets series. Don’t be looking for specific plays in this list; it’s purely aesthetics. These are asides, all the fun stuff that complements the fantastic basketball, which needs no more rehashing at this point.

• First and foremost, the Birdman. The guy’s game is so bizarre, and it’s likewise so much fun to watch. He tries to block everything. Everything.
• Dahntay Jones being a major twerp. It’s like when you’re playing a pick-up game and everybody’s having a good time, except one guy who’s taking his defensive assignment way too seriously. And it’s not like it worked, anyway.
• Have you ever noticed that Nené looks like a crazy, corn-rowed version of Tim Duncan? It’s like if Tim Duncan had an evil twin, or even just a twin with a personality.
• Chris Andersen’s ink. He reportedly has 37 tattoos, but it’s not just the sheer quantity that makes them awesome—it’s the colors. Having pale, caucasian skin means there’s a better canvas to start with, and his full-color tats really stand out. Exceptional work.



• K-Mart’s ink. Holy cow, those lips on his neck are hideous. He says it’s a tribute to his girlfriend, the rapper Trina. I guess if you’re dating Trina you want to flaunt it somehow, and her lips are the most family-friendly body part the NBA would allow?
• The most interesting part of the Lakers was Trevor Ariza and his teleporting abilities. How often do you actually steal the inbounds pass? And I don’t mean just trapping the guy that receives the pass, but actually intercepting the pass? When you watch that play from Game One over again, Ariza’s nowhere near the ball, and then he comes out of nowhere.
• Deserving of a separate bullet point is that Ariza did it twice, both times to seal the win. Steal it once, props to Ariza. Steal it twice, shame on the Nuggets for not even being able to inbound the ball. Do we need some more drills for this?
• J.R. Smith was only useful in two games out of six, and nobody was even remotely surprised. I need this guy’s job. Show up once a week and do what you do, and then mail it in the rest of the time. Sweet gig.
• I enjoyed hearing Pau Gasol complain to the media after Game Five that he wasn’t getting enough touches. That’s right, be a man. Pau Gasol is what you’d get if Ned Flanders had a growth spurt and learned Spanish. It’s good news for the Lakers’ chances in the Finals if Pau is finally showing some cojones.



• And I end right back where I began, with the Birdman. There’s one play that does actually deserve rehashing: Andersen reverse-posterizing Lamar Odom. It reminded me of a play from a few years back when Ben Wallace was still with the Pistons, and he blocked a dunk by Shaq. They were paused in the air for about 30 seconds, locked in a battle of sheer will. Veins were popping out all over Wallace’s temples as he gave it everything he possibly could. And finally the two players came back down to earth, the basket having been denied. Sweet stuff.

NBA Jam changed the lives of millions of American males.

It took the game of basketball out of its rigid world of fouls, rules, and established laws of physics and dropped it into the world that exists deep in the mind of every guy.

The world where the ball actually catches fire when you’re on a roll. The world where jumping to dunk takes you fifty feet skyward. And the world where one’s own maneuvers merit a rousing BOOM-SHAKALAKA.

While the Madden games reinvent themselves each year with new rosters and a revitalized dedication to realism, NBA Jam remains an anomaly frozen in time—a rebellion against the world as it is, and an argument for how it ought to be.

The question begs to be asked: Who would grace the NBA Jam hardwood today? And in turn, which team would go all the way?

The construction of NBA Jam rosters is not as clear-cut as it first seems. Some pairings are undeniable—Kobe Bryant and Pau Gasol, or Deron Williams and Carlos Boozer.

Some teams, enviably, have too many stars, meaning that the Ray Allens of the world get cut to allow a KG/Paul Pierce duo.

Finally, some teams have the opposite problem, having apparently inadequate roster talent to even field a decent two-man team (names intentionally omitted).

That said, I present the 2009 NBA Jam rosters.

A few comments before we get to the playoffs.

The Pistons present a particular challenge. Rip Hamilton is clearly an NBA Jam starter, but who takes the second spot? Traditionally it would be Rasheed Wallace, but his numbers were down significantly this year. Tayshaun Prince is next in line—but can you really exclude Allen Iverson in a video game world? He made my Detroit team, even though in my mind he’s retired.

The Wizards tied for the second-worst record in the league this year, but when you cut the roster to two (and disallow injuries), they actually become a contender. Gilbert Arenas with… Antawn Jamison or Caron Butler, take your pick. Even Jamison/Butler is still competitive. And now this is officially the most I’ve said about the Wizards since a certain MJ finally retired.

Who do you put on a Suns team? Shaq and Jason Richardson both got excluded to include Nash and Stoudemire. I don’t feel good about that.

The most compelling duo on the list is Denver’s Chauncey Billups/Carmelo Anthony. Both players are going to have high marks across the board (threes, dunks, defense), creating the NBA Jam superplayer—cf. Nick Anderson, of the NBA Jam Orlando Magic. While he was never even an NBA All-Star, he’s responsible for a few thousand NBA Jam championships.

For the playoffs, it seems fair to use the 2009 playoff seedings. The first round would play out as such:

1. LA Lakers vs. 8. Utah — Lakers win, but in 7. Both of these Utah teammates played on the USA Olympic team… and they’re the only team that sent two.

2. Denver vs. 7. New Orleans — Nuggets in 4. True point guards aren’t that useful in NBA Jam, plus Chris Paul needs better help.

3. San Antonio vs. 6. Dallas — San Antonio takes this on Tony Parker’s speed and Tim Duncan’s digitally-enhanced knees. Sure would be fun to play as Dirk, though. Spurs in 6.

4. Portland vs. 5. Houston — Rockets in 4. Sorry, I like Portland too, but Yao/T-Mac is a great combo.

1. Cleveland vs. 8. Detroit — Much more competitive in NBA Jam than in real life. Cavs in 5.

2. Boston vs. 7. Chicago — Much less competitive. Celtics in a brutal 4.

3. Orlando vs. 6. Philadelphia — Nice matchup. The Sixers are well-rounded, but outgunned. Shard adds the outside shot, which you badly need when you fall behind in a game that does not feature defense.

4. Atlanta vs. 5. Miami — This is a great Miami team, since O’Neal can’t get injured. Heat in 5.

Round two is pretty similar to how it matched up in real life, with just a couple of exceptions.

LA Lakers vs. Houston — Both teams have a great one-two punch. LA’s is better, though not by much. Lakes in 7.

Denver vs. San Antonio — Denver, Denver, Denver. Billups and Melo don’t bother matching up with the big man, and they win big because of it. Nuggets in 4.

Cleveland vs. Miami — Miami has a better team here, but I’ll pick the Cavs since they both have a 3-point shot. Mo Williams is probably like Kevin Johnson in the original game, who quite simply could not dunk. Cavs in 6.

Boston vs. Orlando — The Celtics take this one. While Dwight Howard is an offensive weapon, he doesn’t have more than KG… so the victory comes from Paul Pierce outdoing Lewis. Boston in 5.

Conference Finals:

LA Lakers vs. Denver — Sorry, LA. There’s just too much here. Kobe’s clutch meter is maxed out, but the Nuggets can kill you from anywhere. It’s a great series, though, just like in real life. Nuggets in 6.

Cleveland vs. Boston — Last year’s conference finals – and this year’s too if KG was healthy. Here’s where the Cavs falter — Mo is a good player but he isn’t a star. He certainly doesn’t match up with Pierce. You can definitely win with the Cavs, and LeBron’s gonna have some spectacular dunks… but the Celtics head to the Finals. In 7.

And, the Finals!

Denver vs. Boston — This matchup is rated four stars, since that’s how many stars are on the floor. Unfortunately for Boston, though, this is where KG’s intensity turns out to be a human-only characteristic, and his unbalanced player ratings become a weakness.

Chauncey and Melo alternate dunks and threes all night to give Boston major headaches. And in the end, that’s what wins it. Denver in 5.