Loyalty and the NBA: Strange Bedfellows Indeed

First appeared on November 18, 2014
in The Lebanon Reporter

When I was in the Third Grade I had a crush on Mary Beth Stevens. She of the hair like golden shocks of wheat and dangerous blue eyes so crystal clear they cast perfect reflections of the checkerboard tile floor in the multi-purpose room. Then at recess, while Mary Beth was in a heated game of tetherball, I confessed my love only to have the cutest girl in the Fourth Grade ask me out moments later.

As a simple boy who still raced Matchbox cars and believed the Legion of Doom was in fact the greatest threat facing the world, how was I to know it was a test of my loyalty? A devious plot hatched by the Black Widow Mary Beth herself. But I stood tall and strong, like a 4’3 oak. And for two magical hours we were Charles and Diana, until Mary Beth asked me to dump her lunch tray and never spoke to me again.

Perhaps it’s no secret that, just like fashion in North Korea and the careers of most male meteorologists, loyalty is dead. It’s a powerful statement indeed and one that applies wholeheartedly to the National Basketball Association.

So LeBron is hailed for his loyalty after abandoning Cleveland only to return on a hobbled white horse with two rings earned in the service of another kingdom. How quickly it was forgotten, that ill-fated night Cleve-landers torched King James jerseys in the streets, stomping and dancing all over them. Or what about the “Witless” and “LeBum” posters they displayed when LeBron returned with the Heat?

And then there’s Cavaliers owner Dan Gilbert; also known as the one welcoming James back with open arms. This after penning a scathing letter to his fan base denouncing the King 30 seconds after LeBron announced he was divorcing his “hometown” four years ago. A fickle beast loyalty is not. Loyalty is an eternal test of ones will and, when the going gets tough, the truly loyal go nowhere.

But what exactly does loyalty get one? For Cub fans it’s apparently a lifetime of disappointment, frustration and embarrassment. For members of ISIS, it’s a date with a Hellfire missile and an eternity spent looking for a glass of ice water. For Kobe Bryant it’s pumping in 31,000 points for the Lakers and dropping five championship trophies in the broom closet only to return from injury to find trade rumors flaring up after going 1-6 out of the gate.

And before we carve the NBA up for being selfish and materialistic, its best to understand professional basketball is likely a product of our own society. Sports fans, not unlike your two year old, want everything immediately. There’s no waiting in life. They don’t want to hear another one of Daddy’s sermons on patience.

They want the best coach, a franchise player, deep playoff runs and championship trophies, and if they don’t have them by the close of business, the bandwagon gets lighter and season tickets wind up on EBAY with an opening bid of twelve cents.
Loyalty is hard work and we’ve become a people who are, by and large, highly allergic to hard work. Of course there are times when loyalty pays off. For if there weren’t, who in their right mind would ever have it?

Truly rare moments that are magical and powerful and lasting and try as we might we can never get them back. Moments that often take a lifetime to reach and mere seconds to expire. And yet it’s the allure and rarity of these that keep the truly loyal in the game. Moments that keep us picking ourselves up and dusting ourselves off time after time.

So here’s to you who count yourself amongst the loyal, that ever dwindling crowd of the lonely and the ridiculed, smile and wave at all those chasing empty calories, for you know your moment, far off as it may be, does in fact lie ahead somewhere.

© 2014 Eric Walker Williams

While many words may describe Pacers, none are good

First appeared on April 11th, 2014
in The Lebanon Reporter

The Pacers are in a freefall. And this would be entirely understandable if Head Coach Frank Vogel sat on the sidelines in an ultra-cool top hat wailing on a Rickenbacker 12 string as 30,000 strong swayed in unison with Bics blazing, “she’s a good girl…” But alas, there are no vampires walkin’ through the valley and it looks like the only people who are ‘gonna leave this world for a while’ are Pacer fans.

So the Pacers have a case of Full Moon Fever, or at the very least are experiencing the largest identity crisis in the history of Professional Sports (all apologies to Dennis Rodman). Either way, there’s only one word to describe the month of March for Indiana; well there are actually many words to describe it but my editor has shot most of the others down.

Indiana has been terrible. They haven’t even been good enough to be classified as the proverbial “shell of their former self”. Up and down the roster, up and down the stat sheet and up and down the court, the Pacers have set professional basketball in the state of Indiana back 5,000 years in a mere 30 days.

And when you’ve played your way down to the bottom of the barrel you get a pat on the back and some time off. Who knew refusing to come out of the locker room after halftime could be so taxing? Or perhaps the most exhausting part was refusing to stand and join the team huddle during time outs? Or was it going online to complain about hard working people who’ve grown so disgusted with the spectacle that is your team right now that they chose to boo?

These would be the same hard working people who made the conscious decision to take time from their lives and money from their pocket, money that could have as easily been put to something more worthwhile such as feeding their children or buying their brother-in-law’s family a hotel room, to drive downtown and watch a team that claims to be the flagship for an entire state.

By nature Hoosiers are not quitters. Whiners maybe, but not quitters. So our flagship team only has it half right at the moment. It’s too late for solutions. It’s also too late to pay some high priced sports psychologist to lug his oversized crushed velvet couch from the big city all the way out to the sticks. There are no trades to be made. There are no speeches to be given. There is no time to move west down Ventura Boulevard for a barbeque at Paul George’s house.

The Playoffs are coming. And while Frank Vogel can stop the bleeding temporarily by sitting his starters in Milwaukee, what he can’t stop is Fate. Fate allowed Indiana to start the year 33-7. Fate made Paul George an All Star and Fate kept Lance Stephenson home. And Fate, fickle as ever, helped Memphis defeat Miami Wednesday night propelling the lackluster Pacers into first place atop the Eastern Conference.

So for as bad as it’s been, lest we forget just how unbelievably bad it has been, the Pacers’ main goal still remains within reach somehow. Friday night they play the Heat (perhaps it’s better to say the scheduling gods have the Pacers and Heat in the same building Friday night). And while it will appear to some as simply 1 of 82 regular season games, Friday night will speak volumes. The season won’t be won on Friday night, but unless Indiana arrives with the mentality that they ‘Won’t Back Down’, there’s a real possibility it could be lost.

© 2014 Eric Walker Williams

Indiana Pacers will survive this Deep Freeze

First appeared on March 14, 2014
in The Lebanon Reporter

You know it’s too cold when a young and energetic State Representative, entirely convinced he was brought into this world to enact real change, surrenders and submits a bill to the Indiana House mandating the statewide erection of Penguin Crossing signs. What happened to the Global Warming goons and their rising temperatures? I suppose I need to get out and drive my car more. Turn on all the lights in my house and install a coal chute on my fireplace. Maybe that would warm this place up.

Perhaps the Indiana Pacers current free-fall is simply art imitating life. Losers of four in a row up until Boston came to town, Indiana helped the Celtics carry their bags from the bus, for nothing can stop a losing streak faster than facing a roster comprised largely of players who should be buried deep on another team’s bench.

How could a team with the best record in professional basketball appear so uncompetitive? Who knows. Why do news outlets insist on giving us poll numbers when we know they’ve been calling the same people over and over again for years? I don’t know about you, but nobody has ever phoned me about chemical weapons in Syria.

Some contend Indiana’s tailspin stems from a lack of ball movement, others blame poor defense. They look disinterested as a group, tired or it’s the impotent play of their young stud who’s been too busy reading writers far more gifted and relevant than yours truly telling the free world how talented he is. I’m sure at some point all of these apply and if I knew the real answer you’d find me interviewing Greg Popovich during a time out on national television.

Perhaps the Pacers, like their fans, have succumbed to temptation, looking past the remaining games on the schedule. The Playoffs are so close everyone with a horse still in the race can smell them. A potpourri of stale hot dogs, historic moments and 17,000 exuberant people with varying philosophies on personal hygiene sharing a poorly ventilated space in late May.

The playoffs, a place where Championships roam free in herds so large a man could sit down and watch them pass for days. Packed arenas in full throat and fervor, watching with wide eyes as careers are made and ruined with the bounce of one ball.

The unfortunate fact in all this is the Pacers are contractually bound to play the rest of the games on their schedule. Sure we’d all walk across the street to watch a seven game series with Miami tomorrow, but alas Milwaukee calls.

Milwaukee with its 51 losses and semi-professional roster, including one go-getter who stopped in mid play while his team was on defense earlier in the season to tie his shoe. Saying there are too many games in the NBA regular season is like saying Washington doesn’t work. We understand it’s a proven fact and to discuss it is simply beating a horse that died during the Stone Age.

So the Pacers are left to pick up the pieces and move on. Speaking in proverbials, they must rally, right the ship, circle the wagons and get everyone on the same page. It will warm up at some point and so too will the Pacers.

In the meantime sit back and enjoy the ride, this long and winding detour through Antarctica will soon be over and the Playoffs will be here. And if a banner is hung in Bankers Life come June, all the plunging temperatures, burst pipes and time spent digging out, which triggered an avalanche of blustery blizzard-like blues so deep and wide it buried our souls long ago, will have all been worth it somehow.

© 2014 Eric Walker Williams

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Move over '72 Dolphins, here come the Indiana Pacers

First appeared on November 8th, 2013
in The Lebanon Reporter

Move over ’72 Miami Dolphins here come the Indiana Pacers. At 5-0 and coming off a big win over Central Division rival Chicago, Indiana appears unstoppable and seems poised to run the table. 82-0 has never happened and those who say it can’t are the same glass half empty contrarians who told Roger Bannister he’d never break a 4:00 mile or snickered when Mark Zuckerberg said one day half the planet would waste hours of their own lives looking at online photos of other peoples cats dressed in Halloween costumes.

An undefeated NBA team usually means you’ve played a string of home games to start the year, caught somebody without their Superstar and won one or two at the buzzer. This is the typical 5-0 start to an NBA season. But to borrow a phrase from a 90’s Rapper with a penchant for obnoxious jewelry and pants large enough to fit the business end of an Elephant, the Pacers’ 5-0 start is legit; yes “too legit to quit” in fact.

Pushing an aging Miami Heat team to the final game of the Eastern Conference Finals wasn’t enough for the Pacers brass to toss their golf clubs in the trunk while embracing their inner Cubs fan. They went on the offensive instead, securing Power Forward David West’s services for another three years while also adding some complimentary pieces to an already talented roster.

Back-up point guard C.J. Watson and long distance dead eye Chris Copeland were two free agents brought in with the intention of making the Blue and Gold bench more reliable. Of all the acquisitions however, Luis Scola appears the odds on favorite to win the “That one guy who gave us just enough firepower to finally get past Miami in the Playoffs” Award. In his seventh season out of Argentina, Scola brings the toughness, hustle and rebounding expertise of a Tyler Hansbrough (who stumbled around and elbowed his way to Toronto in the off season) along with the much needed ability to score in various ways.

While so much has been made about the possible return of Danny Granger, Lance Stephenson and Paul George have shown what an off season spent out of the clubs and in the gym can do. Both have raised their level of play this year including George who has scored over 20 points in every game so far.

And who could forget the man in the middle? Roy Hibbert’s performance has been so altogether inspirational it will likely result in Area 55 being expanded to include the entire lower bowl of Banker’s Life. The Big Fella is averaging over 5 blocks a game and, perhaps more importantly, is yet to foul out. In short the Pacers won’t be beaten, can’t be beaten for that matter.

So while the Heat spend their time learning to handle a Just for Men applicator and trying to get logged in to the Affordable Health Care Website, Indiana will continue to drum every team that crosses their path. At this rate the Central Division should be locked up by the end of November and home court throughout the playoffs will be Larry Bird’s Christmas gift to Pacer fans everywhere.

I’ll be the first to admit knowing you are going to win the next 77 games in a row does take some of the excitement out of watching them, but true fans will gut it out no matter how pointless it may seem. So hang in there Pacer Fans and enjoy every moment, no matter how uneventful the ride may be.

© 2013 Eric Walker Williams

Pacers remain so close....

First appeared on June 5th, 2013
in The Lebanon Reporter

Back in the day the man perm was an unstoppable force of nature. And, with all apologies to the late Rick James, when it comes to man perms few could rival John Oates of Hall and Oates fame. After Monday night’s debacle in Miami, fans of the Blue and Gold were left lamenting the 32 points King James dropped on Indiana or the fact the league’s MVP absolutely shut down Paul George in the biggest game of his life; but my mind was on Hall and Oates.

How fitting would it have been for one of the greatest duos of the 80’s to be waiting in the Pacers tunnel as they sulked from the floor? Perched on their stools, rocking a single amp, John Oates still looking like 1983 with Daryl Hall’s golden pipes bellowing out “So close, yet so far away”.

That’s what the Pacers were, so close, yet the Heat’s dominating performance in Game 7 made it clear Indiana remains so far away. As great as the Pacers were, the Heat reminded them what a true Champion is. Turnovers erased any chance Indiana had at playing for an NBA Championship, thus deep sixing what Marv Albert had already dubbed the “greatest upset in NBA Playoff History”; clearly Marv hasn’t gotten over Reggie Miller.

Forgetting Marv Albert’s misguided prophecy, and unflattering hat helmet, for a moment, up until Monday night the Indiana Pacers were on a run that seemed destined for the Finals. It could be said everything they touched turned “blue and gold”. The 1980’s brand of smashmouth basketball the Pacers were playing looked so effective that somewhere Chuck Daly was smiling behind a Poker table while those with the most titles in front offices around the league were silently questioning their movement away from a dominating front line.

The usually outlandish and cranky Sir Charles was actually spot-on when comparing Roy Hibbert and David West’s dominating play to Russell and Chamberlain. Mix in strong all around play from the emerging superstar Paul George, sharp shooting (at times) from George Hill and the surprising arrival of Lance Stephenson, and the Pacers quickly became the second worst nightmare Erik Spoelstra could have; the first of course being Pat Riley coming out of the stands to ask “have you seen my clipboard?”

The outcome of Monday’s game was far more than “LeBron being LeBron” or the Big Three finally engaging themselves at the same time. It was more than the “will of a champion” or the Heat having stars and the Pacers having players who may or may not be stars depending on who you’re talking to, the day of the week and the price of oil in China. So close, yet so far away.

It came down plain and simply to turnovers. The Pacers were careless with the ball which would be a creative strategy to employ for any coach who actually wants to win. 21 turnovers in an elimination game can be a sign of many things. The short list includes: inexperience, youth, poor eyesight, teammates in camouflage uniforms and really, really dumb decisions. Those who watched Indiana Monday night know the answer is “D All of the Above”.

There’s a restless look in your eyes tonight (Paul George), there’s a secret hurt in my heart (strange little hardhat wearing man who carries a pink flamingo around to every Pacer game), and the dream that pulls us together (winning a championship), is the dream that pulls us apart (this last part is up to Vogel and the Pacers front office to prevent). So close, yet so far away.

© 2013 Eric Walker Williams

Pacers Surging, not Surprising

First appeared on January 17, 2013
in The Lebanon Reporter

When I was ten years old my English teacher became so distraught at my inability to make a lower case cursive q she had me sweating my chances at making fifth grade. “Why can’t you be more like Adam Montgomery?” she would croon and howl as I squiggled out one puny lower case cursive q after another.

In my defense Adam Montgomery was state of the art. What with his Rockwellian family, athletic prowess and flawless upper case D. First in gym class sprints, first in board races, line leader and hall monitor, Montgomery was the kind of kid who would have stood in front of Mt. Rushmore huffing, “I thought it’d be bigger.”

Nobody measured up to Adam Montgomery, and the incessant comparisons my teachers made turned most exhausting by our Senior year. My being forever doomed to a coach seat on the midnight train to Nowheresville made Adam Montgomery seem larger than life. As if he didn’t put his pants on one leg at a time and still need a mother’s reminder to close the barn door like everyone else.

I never mastered the lower case q and, looking back now, I don’t know what’s more surprising, the fact Adam Montgomery isn’t a world renowned guru making regular visits to the White House as a handwriting tutor for the Obama girls, or that I haven’t used cursive since fifth grade.

But it would seem Adam Montgomery and the Miami Heat aren’t far apart in their state of the art-ed-ness. The talking heads say nobody can beat the Heat, so it is the remainder of this much too long season and impending playoffs are about as relevant as the Mayan calendar.

If Montgomery was the Heat before the Heat were even the Heat then, in my teacher's eyes, I surely was the Pacers. Of course I was a much shorter, slower, less athletic and not as wealthy version, but the point here lies in the opinion of the masses being Montgomery was invincible.

Over the last week the Heat have proven themselves human. Losers of 4 out of their last 7, Miami suddenly doesn’t seem like the sure-fire lock for another Eastern Conference Title they once did. And meanwhile the Pacers are surging.

Surging without the “one time soon to be face of the franchise” Danny Granger in the line up. Surging despite all the NBA headlines targeting the dysfunctional Lakers, bloviating that a cure for more wins could lie in their firing of a second coach this season alone. Surging in spite of a maxed out center stumbling through an awkward, midseason identity crisis.

Surging on the wings of a budding young superstar who is discovering himself more and more with every game. But, most notably, surging on the wings of solid defense being played with consistent effort. This last part of the equation was notably absent earlier in the season (see the 90-89 loss to Charlotte in November and subsequent 4-6 start). In giving a solid defensive effort every night, Indiana seems to have found its niche.

And it’s been their ability to channel this “inner Adam Montgomery” that’s led to Indiana’s correcting a season that was bordering a steep, irreversible nose dive. A correction that’s seen their ascension to the top spot in the Central Division and third best record in the East.

But will it be enough? None of us could ever reach the stratosphere Adam Montgomery so nonchalantly called home back then and it still remains to be seen if anyone in the NBA, Pacers included, can match the Heat stride for stride come April.

© 2013 Eric Walker Williams

Digging Deeper into the Playoffs

First appeared on June 7th, 2012
in The Lebanon Reporter

Old versus Young. Experience versus enthusiasm. Carson versus Arsenio. We’ve seen this act before so it should be nothing new. Well maybe new is a bad choice of words if you happen to be fans of the San Antonio Spurs or Boston Celtics. Either way Father Time remains the most overlooked, least analyzed, scrutinized or scouted player in the 2012 NBA Playoffs.

The Heat were for all intents and purposes the most logical choice for pre-season NBA Champions. And after a quick 2-0 start to the Eastern Conference Finals, Miami has been blindsided by a Boston team that has lathered their joints with enough WD 40 to remind all of us why they don’t hand trophies out before the season begins.

And while Oklahoma City continues to churn out posterizing dunks at an unprecedented rate, San Antonio remains Watty Piper’s original Little Engine that Could, busy plodding along on a journey towards The Finals. Both series are a lesson in life. There is something to be said for experience.

The Media would have us believe that OKC is a newborn infant ready to shed their diapers and claim a title while San Antonio is the toothless grizzled relic of yesteryear huddling behind their bedroom door as the Grim Reaper’s scythe is reaching in for them.

In a league built on young superstars and athletic role players the NBA finds itself at war with itself. And while this is a great recipe for producers of Keeping up with the Kardashians or Jersey Shore, it doesn’t compute in David Stern’s world. The NBA brands itself as fresh, young and exciting. The Spurs and Celtics are none of these.

And yet there they are again. Those darned fundamentals. The Spurs and their screens, the Celtics and their stifling team defense. The Big Fundamental and his unstoppable 17 foot bank shot and Rajon Rondo and his- well OK maybe we need to leave Rondo out of any discussion that involves fundamental basketball.

So you’re a 25 year veteran of accounting and some hotshot kid comes in fresh out of the Kelley School of Business. The stuffed shirt who signs your paychecks starts suggesting you might be able to learn a few things from Billy with the spiked hair. Whether it’s an out of town seminar he arranges for the two of you to attend together or something far less subtle, like an email that reads “Hey, you could learn a few things from Billy”, either way you feel slighted. So you find a new resolve. A rediscovered determination that carries you from the water cooler to the vending machine in record time.

This is another X factor currently propelling both the Spurs and Celtics. Her name is disrespect and she is both bold and beautiful. All season long every talking head in the NBA, every basketball magazine cover, every SportsCenter lead-in and every kid aged 10-19 (including Billy with the Spiked Hair) has done nothing but talk about Miami and Oklahoma City.

And suddenly there they are. Two former champions. Two groups feeling disrespected and boasting more playoff experience than half the other teams in the league combined. The NBA has long sold fans on rivalries. The Lakers and Celtics. The Bulls versus the Bad Boys. Tim Donaghy versus the Federal Government. Who knew the new rivalry would take such an old approach?

It may be true what they say “you can’t teach an old dog new tricks”, but in this case it’s rapidly becoming clear these old dogs don’t need any.

© 2012 Eric Walker Williams

That old familiar feeling for Pacer Fans

First appeared on May 26th, 2012
in The Lebanon Reporter

So the Pacers bid to upset the Miami Heat fell short. Thirty two points short in Game 5 to be exact. And as the Pacers ride off into the sunset for greener fairways and All-Inclusive resorts with white sandy beaches, the rest of us are left to ponder what could have been.

Pacer fans sit with incredulous faces, popcorn littered at their feet, luke warm beers in hand. A golden army 15,000 strong sitting in complete silence. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. When was the last time Hollywood gave us a blockbuster where the bad guys actually won?

It was almost a magical story. The Indiana legend turned Executive of the Year and his band of blue collar players, those same players who were branded misfits by the media and NBA officiating during the series, almost eliminating the league’s two sacred cows. In the end it wasn’t the MVP who stepped on the Pacers throat, rather it was Dwayne Wade who made so many impossible shots Thursday night it seemed as if he were trying to beat himself in a game of Horse.

But beyond the court the Pacers have aroused within us a spirit of bygone days. The inner Pacer fan in all of us had lay dormant for many moons. We first crawled our way into the cave in 2000 when the Pacers made the NBA Finals only to go on and lose in 6 games to the Lakers. Hibernation seemed the only tonic strong enough to prevent what we all saw coming; the collapse of a franchise that had carried us through the 90’s. And while we struggled to keep our eyes propped open through Reggie’s retirement, we succumbed to the sweet relief of slumber through the Brawl and subsequent countless nightclub melees and shootings. And we snored long and hard through many a fruitless season.

Now with a spirited performance against the Heat, the Pacers have done nothing but leave an entire fan base wanting more. Younger fans got a taste of what we all gorged ourselves upon during the days of the Davis boys and the Dunking Dutchman and yet now the lights are out in Banker’s Life and the only person moving up and down the floor is a lonely custodian sweeping away the blood, sweat and tears of another lost season.

Unanswered questions remain. What will become of Larry? Will Roy Hibbert and George Hill be back? The Pacers front office and players have both done so much work to get to this point that it would seem this group deserves to stay together at least until West’s contract expires. And one would think pushing Miami as far as Indiana did would be enough to eradicate the scourge of empty seats that has befallen Banker’s Life Fieldhouse for lo these many years.

So as the Aussies say, “Belt Up” Indiana Fans. It’s time to move on. But as you do, remember to nurture what the Pacers gave you this year. For it is a seed. A seed of hope. Make sure you care for it. Give it all the love and attention it requires for that seed holds great promise. Perhaps next year, or at some other not so distant point, that seed will bloom into the promises that went unfulfilled oh so many moons ago.

© 2012 Eric Walker Williams

Pacers must find a way to turn down the Heat

First appeared on May 15th, 2012
in The Lebanon Reporter

OK so Sunday didn’t turn out to be the bloodbath so many had predicted. And though the Heat are one step closer to proving Jon Barry’s theory of a sure-fire Miami sweep correct, what remains to be seen is not the outcome of the series but rather how the Pacers will respond. Compounding matters for fans of the Blue and Gold, it would seem Miami took Indiana’s best punch in the first half Sunday and rallied to win with a dominating Fourth Quarter.

Of course the experts love for the Heat is nothing new. I’m sure had ESPN covered the Germans during World War II or filmed a 30 for 30 on Napoleon, they would have given the Russian’s no shot as well. The trouble of course is the magic of the upset lies in the fact nobody sees it coming. Who knew Stalingrad would become a Hornets nest capable of crippling Hitler’s Eastern advance? Or that Napoleon would taste defeat for the first time at the hands of an army perhaps made most famous by their propensity for retreat?

And really, who can fault those in the full-time-not-pretend media? The truth is the predictability of the NBA is tiresome. Of course the quintessentially obstinate American in all of us would say this is simply all the more reason for Indiana to take Miami down.

Let us not forget the Heat are the epitome of everything that is wrong with professional basketball. In a league completely driven by Superstars and propped up by those who gaze at them in captivated wonderment, Miami has three of them. Three talented men who should be filling seats on their own in smaller markets. Three men who came together and used the magic powers of artificial smoke and strobe lights to morph into the “Big Three”; a trio of superheroes joining forces to do something they clearly felt incapable of doing alone.

Meanwhile with no true Superstar, Indiana is the Yin to Miami’s Yang. They have no cult following. They are not paparazzi worthy. Heck, the only time Banker’s Life ever saw a smoke machine was when House of Hair came to town. On paper the match-up doesn’t have the magnetism of Ali-Frazier, but the fact remains there are no guarantees in life (see Lugar, Richard).

So while David Stern busies himself ensuring that those elves in his workshop busy engraving the Larry O’Brien Trophy realize the ‘b’ in LeBron is in fact capitalized, the Pacers need to set their jaw, clench their fists and get ready to take their best shot at Miami; again. Only this time hit harder, hit smarter and don’t let them get up when you have them down.

And after a 95-86 loss Sunday, Indiana remains at a crossroads. In a Pacer blue convertible the dapper Frank Vogel is slumped at the wheel while in the passenger seat alongside Larry gnaws at a thumbnail with Boomer’s overinflated head looking on from the backseat he’s sharing with that one guy with the hardhat, flip signs and pink flamingo.

They can forge ahead, take their medicine and lay down as Miami rolls on to the Eastern Conference Finals, or they can put their turn signal on and take the NBA for an unexpected ride. Tuesday night the basketball world will wait breathlessly to see if Indiana fights back, if Vogel follows his league-issued Garmin, or will we hear the presumptuous voice of David Stern choking out “RECALCULATING!!” as the Pacers try to derail the only sure thing the NBA has had since the Zenmaster traded his clipboard for a fly rod.

© 2012 Eric Walker Williams