Ready or Not, the NBA Playoffs are Here

First appeared on April 29, 2015
in The Lebanon Reporter

Like it or not the NBA Playoffs are here. An epically all too long crescendo to a painfully all too long regular season. Unfortunately for you the Playoffs are like a really bad movie you paid forty bucks to see in a drafty theatre dotted with unhappy toddlers and one gravel throated chain-smoker hacking up a lung. The hormones in the teenager behind you are telling him “must kick hole in back of seat” as a couple nearby snickers their way through a very dark and ultimately critical scene.

Still you hang on, through the four game sweeps, twenty point blowouts and inconsistent officiating, the predictable plot twists and token kiss between main characters who never saw themselves together. Others walk out when an unforeseen plot twist turns out to be a dream, but not you, you have invested so much time and money that even the great Chicago Fire wouldn't keep you from seeing the end.

You find no tangible reason for watching other than sports have a way of washing the stink of the real world off us; that and the latest season of “The Bachelor” is over. You fail at explaining to your wife that the Playoffs are a necessary evil because they’re the only truly reliable way of crowning a champion. Still, outside of elimination games, the NBA Playoffs fall well short of installing the heart pounding drama of March Madness.

The totality of the NCAA Tournament’s allure lies in its ability to capture those game seven moments in dozens of match ups spread out over a month’s time. Compare this to the NBA Playoffs which have you wading through two months or more of stagnant basketball peppered with small traces of suspense (see: the last two minutes of the Fourth Quarter). Still, it’s just enough to keep a sucker like you coming back time and time again.

March Madness plays well to Americans for its all you can eat qualities. It’s a buffet of basketball, a cornucopia of competition. And so you sit as only an American can, three day beard, pants unsnapped, gorging yourself until your hollow leg explodes and it looks like a freight train has hit a food truck in your living room. And then your wife suggests getting off the couch to spend more time with your son because when his teacher asked what his parents do for a living yesterday little Johnny stood up and told the class that his daddy watches basketball.

That’s what March Madness is. It’s death by basketball and the NBA Playoffs simply can’t stand next to it. Sure they dress the Playoffs up. Pipe in louder dance music and give out free tee-shirts; an adult large that won’t fit your three year old after one wash.

But there simply isn’t enough lipstick in a Macy’s warehouse to spice these things up. The NBA would be smart to offer a mid-season tournament. A single elimination affair set up exactly like the NCAA Tournament without openly admitting they’re trying to create something exactly like the NCAA Tournament.

They could call it the “February Frenzy” and sell millions in advertising. Instead of “One Shining Moment” they could offer fans “One Really Bright Moment”. Give the winner a first round bye in the Playoffs or the overall number one seed should they make it. For those that don’t, maybe an all expense paid trip to the Final Four would make sense, or at the very least a tee-shirt that fits.

In the meantime tuning into the Playoffs will remain just like a trip to the movies. There are absolutely no guarantees and no chance of getting your money back.


© 2015 Eric Walker Williams

BREAKING NEWS: First Round exit not what Larry wanted

First appeared on May 1st, 2014
in The Lebanon Reporter

My dad took me to my first Indiana Pacers game at 13. It was a regular season tilt featuring Larry Bird’s World Champion Boston Celtics. And while I knew the Pacers weren’t good, finding Market Square a swirling sea of green, an army of auto mechanics and accountants shoulder to shoulder in the same Bird jerseys each swooning over Larry Legend, was completely unexpected.

The Celtics arrival had inspired the first sell out since the last time they were in town, prompting a silver haired usher to gush about the curtains finally being raised on the upper level. In the shadow of a World Champion, the Pacers played like a semi-pro team. The crowd surged with every shot Bird made, chanting his name after every pass he threaded, and cheered for every rebound he corralled. Everything about the night seemed out of place as 17,000 strong appeared to resent any resistance the Pacers put forth.

Meanwhile, from the row behind, two rosy cheeked draft experts blasted the Pacers 6’7 rookie wing for not being Steve Alford. The gangly kid from UCLA with the ears. “They should have drafted his sister, she’d help the Pacers more.” “He didn’t play for Knight, he doesn’t know basketball.” Brilliance personified.

Life is funny. Who could have known that so much of Indiana’s history as a franchise would be tied to that fateful night in 1987? Who knew that wide eyed rookie with the big ears would put the Pacers back on the map, shoot them into the Finals while sticking a finger in New York City’s eye along the way? Reggie Miller was fiery, fearless and played with a chip on his shoulder the size of Texas.

And when Reggie and Larry joined forces in 1997 Pacers fans rejoiced in George Costanza-like fashion, “Worlds are colliding!” But alas Reggie’s Hall of Fame career is over leaving Larry to look on helplessly from his perch along the baseline, in the city he once dominated as a champion, reduced to watching all his hopes and dreams for a Pacers’ Title swirl down the proverbial toilet.

This unforeseen tailspin has been rife with misery and heartbreak, confounding experts while putting a once effervescent head coach firmly on edge. And as Pacer Fans everywhere hold their collective breath, waiting for the moment the Hawks realize they are the 8 seed and decide to give up and go away, everyone with a brain has reached the conclusion this current group of Pacers are not Larry and Reggie.

They don’t necessarily play together. They don’t consistently outwork opponents. They aren’t hard-nosed and seem to floudner around in an unfocused manner for most of a 48 minute game. For proof one need look no further than Hawks Forward Mike Scott, Reggie would have told a Davis boy to put him in the second row before Scott could make five three pointers in a quarter (Larry would have done it himself).

By Nature Midwestern sports fans are a tolerant lot. They’re willing to suffer through almost anything (see Cubs, Chicago). But a perceived lack of effort is taboo in the Midwest. The Pacers branded themselves with defense and hard work, but there’s been nothing ‘Blue Collar’ about them since the calendar turned 2014.

This isn’t about X’s and O’s. It’s about guts, bravado and playing fearlessly. These are qualities that allowed Larry and Reggie to excel. These are also qualities the current Indiana Pacers would be well served to develop quickly. If Paul, David, Ringo and Roy don’t come to the realization soon that nothing easy is worth having, the only thing hanging from the rafters in Banker’s Life will be a curtain blocking empty seats.


© 2014 Eric Walker Williams

A Warning to Well Intentioned Pacer Fans

First appeared on April 24th, 2013
in The Lebanon Reporter

Standing 6 feet 9 inches tall and weighing 225 pounds, Josh Smith is a big man. As someone who boasts career highs of 38 points, 22 rebounds, 11 assists and 10 blocks, Josh Smith can be scary good. And you probably don’t need me telling you anyone with the nickname “J Smoove” is clearly capable of world domination in anything, anytime, anywhere.

The AP’s recount of his performance in the opening round of the Playoffs so accurately summarized the life-giving bolt of invigoration Smith’s game can be, “He scored 15 points and grabbed 8 rebounds in Atlanta’s 107-90 defeat”. Talk about world domination indeed.

So it begs the question, after Smith was so lackluster in Sunday’s loss, why would anyone in the non-Atlanta media be quick to call him out? Mike Wells of the Indy Star said “The more jumpers Smith takes…the less likely the Hawks will win” and Pacer Blogger Conrad Brunner bluntly declared “Josh Smith is the worst good player I’ve ever seen”.
If Smith wants to go through the motions defensively and fire up long jump shots early in the shot clock, who are we to tell him no?

What do we care? We’re not Hawks fans or “Smoovers and Shakers” (Affectionate nickname given to card carrying members of the “J-Smoove” fan club; only a guess here). What do these people want? Are they hoping Smith drops 40 on the Blue and Gold? Do they want the Pacers’ first round match up to be more than a tune up? Clearly they’ve never dealt with anyone younger than ten years old.
The Hawks are a shell of a playoff team and Smith is the only person capable of making them as un-shell like as possible.

As Pacer fans, rather than tearing Smith down, now is the time we should be building him up. Telling him he’s the best 30% Three Point shooter we’ve ever seen and asking him to sign the ball we caught after another one of his errant passes has rocketed over a teammates hands before landing in our laps.

We should let him know the fact he led the Hawks in turnovers for a second straight season simply means his teammates need their vision checked or may have to actually click on a link and read something when he’s told them to Google “How to catch a basketball” for the twentieth time. He needs to hear that his 50% shooting from the foul line this season is more than enough justification to stand 30 feet from the basket and hoist jumpers until his shoulder goes numb or the rest of his teammates have lost interest, walked off the court and tweeted #neverplayingbasketballagain from the locker room.

In short Smith is a sleeping giant, let him rest. He’s the only person capable of making this series longer than it needs to be. If Pacers fans are lucky, Smith will continue pretending to play hard and Hawks fans will continue to pretend to care when their team loses. He’s a Five Tool player, the only problem for Atlanta right now is that Smith’s five tools are scoring, rebounding, defending, ball handling and only performing on the third Tuesday of every other month.

Perhaps most amazing of all is the fact Smith is finishing a contract year. But there’s no time for second guessing. Let’s all quietly bear witness now, for the day is coming when we’ll sit our children down to tell them how we watched J Smoove doin’ work. Of course that will require a complete transformation of the word ‘work’, but you’ll figure something out.

© 2013 Eric Walker Williams