'Easy way out' no option for the Blue and Gold

First appeared on March 5th, 2015
in The Lebanon Reporter

When two Tennessee girls’ high school teams met recently, each hoped to fulfill their lifelong goals and dreams by losing a game. This unconventional approach would have afforded one an opportunity to avoid a tournament match up with a local national power. A game that would have proven there are in fact three surefire things in life; death, taxes and total obliteration at the hands of Blackman High.

To avoid this fate, fans were treated to a bevvy of intentional turnovers and not-so-believable bricks. In short it was a performance capable of making even the Washington Generals blush.

And while the game should have been a convenient lesson in sportsmanship, it is perhaps an indicator of a larger issue. Between the Internet, Smart Phones, fast food, Twitter, programmable thermostats, plastic grocery bags and the Roomba, American culture has become about embracing the easy way out.

When Paul George destroyed his leg in a Team USA scrimmage in July, the Indiana Pacers could have taken the easy way out. Put David West on the shelf for a year and let Roy Hibbert work on developing his post game while the team floundered through a 20 win season.

Enter Larry Bird. Yes, he of the unfortunate too-short-shorts era, who also taught us about brilliant shot making and never taking the easy way out. It’s only fitting the Legend’s franchise would assume his demeanor. Kick me when I’m down, I’ll just get up and come back for more. And that’s exactly what the Pacers have done all year; come back for more.

Conventional wisdom had the Blue and Gold resigning themselves to mediocrity. Package Hibbert and George Hill for a new team bus and some fresh linens, take your lumps and hope the lottery balls bounce your way. Instead the Pacers have circled the wagons all year finding inspired play from one unlikely source after another. The formula is simple. Forget the place and time, forget the predictions and expectations and just play hard, play together and play with an edge.

In the middle of it all is the winningest coach in franchise history; Frank Vogel. From the start, Vogel has remained steadfast in his faith that this team can win. This despite dozens in the national media opining the solution to all of Indiana’s problems could be most easily found at the end of a Kim Jong Un missile.

But the Pacers are Blue Collar for a reason. Sure they may prove to be a punching bag for Cleveland in the first round, but they’ve at least shown the sports world there are alternatives to the easy way out. A championship may not be in the cards for everyone, so relish the moment instead and be the best you can be wherever you are.

So perhaps the next time some young girl in Tennessee thinks about shooting a lay up that scrapes the ceiling of the gym or throwing a pass to their mom in the stands, maybe they’ll stop and think about the 2015 Indiana Pacers instead. Maybe then they’ll understand there are alternatives to the easy way out.

Meanwhile, we go on plodding through life as our cable bill is automatically deducted from our bank account, which will automatically transfer funds if we’re overdrawn. We gripe about a half hour wait at a restaurant while using their complimentary Wi-Fi to chart a course to a different place to eat, one 45 minutes away with a far less wait. Check-in-Buddy puts our name in as we open a different app, one that shows us traffic times and 27 alternate routes.

© 2015 Eric Walker Williams

Climb down from the ledges Ye Pacer Fans

First appeared on August 7, 2014
in The Lebanon Reporter

Paul George’s injury in the fourth quarter of a Team USA scrimmage last week set in motion a string of dominoes that, for better or worse, are still falling as we speak. Maybe it’s the fact George is such a promising star, maybe it’s the fact the injury was so horrific it made Kevin Ware and Joe Theismann both wince uncomfortably, or maybe it’s just late July, early August and there is nothing, absolutely and positively nothing, for sports writers and the talking heads to write or talk about.

Late July to early August is when Americans feign an interest in baseball, most big name sports analysts go on vacation and newspaper editors turn to their most talented part time pretend sports columnists to make it seem as though frog jumping contests are so compelling they deserve an audience wider than just ten year olds or men with two first names.

Enter a rising star, the cornerstone of his franchise, playing for his country in an already controversial Olympic system that allows professional athletes to compete in an arena traditionally reserved for amateurs. Throw in a compound fracture captured on film and you have the makings of great fodder.

Desperate times call for people to bust out their own personal agendas. For Mark Cuban it’s suddenly about respecting the fact professional athletes are commodities. For Team USA it’s about promoting the fact professional athletes are commodities who care about their country and for the players participating it’s about generating exposure to become a more marketable commodity. But let’s not get tangled up in the economics of it all.

This is more about the avalanche of speculation and negative reaction, both of which have reached a predictably fevered pitch given the timing. This simply means Pacers Fans need to take a collective step back from the proverbial ledge and remember one small detail so many seem to be overlooking. Despite the unfortunate nature of the accident, Paul George is still alive.

Obviously I’m not qualified to weigh in on the prognosis of George’s injury considering I’m not a doctor. I’m not an NBA Insider or classically trained journalist either, which simply proves America is the greatest country on Earth. Still, people need to stop talking about Paul George as if he has died. They also need to stop talking as if we can climb into the WABAC Machine and tell him to sit the fourth quarter out. Mr. Peabody isn’t walking through that door anytime soon, which means Pacers fans need to stop friend requesting every American named Sherman and shift their focus to what happens moving forward.

To be as completely unclear as possible, wholesale changes to the Pacers roster are not necessary, however they shouldn’t be considered totally removed from the realm of possibility either. Aside from the glaring fact George is in no way eulogy material, he’s also yet to reach his prime production years.

Only in his mid- twenties, George’s window for competing at a high level is so wide open even the average American could still squeeze through it. This means if we do see the Pacers brass dismantling this roster, there should be no panic. If Indiana chooses to retool, they still have a franchise player coming back in 2015; one who should do so at a high level.

While the sum of it all is maddeningly incalculable, the facts are somewhat clearer. Paul George has a long road ahead to make it back and the Pacers front office has went from having some really big decisions to make to having a lot more really big decisions to make.

© 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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Its not such a 'Wonderful Life' in NBA

First appeared on December 28, 2013
in The Lebanon Reporter

Outside of therapy or a Phil Jackson locker room meditation ceremony, there’s no better exercise for centering one’s self during the holidays than watching It’s a Wonderful Life. The film, best viewed in black and white, sharpens ones focus and encourages a reevaluation of priorities.

So as Adam Silver takes the wheel from departing NBA Commissioner David Stern, he does so in a very despondent George Bailey kind of way. Perched nervously on a bridge outside the NBA headquarters, a blurry eyed Silver curses the heavens while lamenting the league for what it is now. With only three teams in the Eastern Conference mustering winning records to this point and a disappointing Christmas Day bonanza, the NBA equivalent of an NFL Thanksgiving, that saw five games finish with an average margin of victory in double figures, including one 29 point blow-out, trouble looms on the horizon.

Silver can curse SportsCenter and the way Americans lap up its spectacular dunks night after night not unlike the hard drinking husbands of school teachers who haunt Martini’s Bar. And while it still remains largely foreign to those drawing steady paychecks, he can blame a video game culture altogether familiar to owners laboring to appease this younger crowd by filling out rosters with ultra-athletic racehorses well versed in the business end of an alley-oop. All this is done while gambling these still generally underdeveloped talents will work diligently to develop their skills (see George, Paul). In the meantime the quality of play and overall skill level within the league continues to deteriorate.

Silver nervously gazes past his toes at the icy water below, knowing full well games are both sloppy and sluggish at times while consistent refereeing remains professional basketball’s white whale. He realizes even the league’s marketing has grown stale as the Christmas Day jerseys, Grinch shoes and scantily clad cheerleaders in Santa hats only made fans forget temporarily they were watching a wholly substandard product.

And then, just at the moment Silver is ready to give up and throw himself into the frigid black water, something altogether amazing and strangely predictable occurs. Appearing amidst a blizzard of fake snow, clutching a dog eared copy of the NBA Rule Book, is David Stern, his guardian angel.

Stern takes Silver on a guided tour of what the NBA once was. And unlike the somewhat laughable Clarence who was yet to earn his wings, there’s no better figure to guide a pretend tour of the league’s past than the man who oversaw its resuscitation and piloted it to its height of popularity.

Along the way, Silver discovers strong rivalries made the league. Rivalries like Detroit/Chicago, Boston/LA, the Knicks and well, OK maybe we’ll just leave the Knicks out of this since the Thunder’s road win total alone bests New York’s overall victories this season.

A wide-eyed Silver marvels at the league’s most successful days, days built on the backs of likable Superstars like Michael, Magic and Larry seasoned with the occasional rise of a spunky underdog like Reggie Miller who tried his best to stick a finger in the eye of big market viewers everywhere.

The unfortunate thing for Silver is, just when he’s seen enough to climb down off the bridge, no Hollywood ending awaits. There is no culminating scene with Silver running through the streets screaming “Merry Christmas you old referring scandal!”, instead he’s left to clean up Stern’s mess while reshaping the league on his own. This will prove a tall task, even one that can't be solved by the town of Bedford Falls bursting through his door while scrambling to unload their pockets to help save his new league.

© 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

Hicks versus Knicks Redux

First appeared on May 16th, 2013
in The Lebanon Reporter

Somewhere between a flopping Carmelo Anthony and a well disguised Tyson Chandler leg whip I was reminded of something Saturday night. Something I’d boxed up long ago. A once deep seated philosophy, forged from titanic showdowns replete with historic moments. I’m talking of course about my hatred for the New York Knicks.

This wasn’t a “how long is this guy going to let cars pile up behind him in the left lane?” kind of hatred either. That’s a mere annoyance. This was the kind of festering disgust that made you flirt with the idea of adopting a homeless dog just to name him Spike, strap a goofy hat to his head before shaving all his fur off and writing “Go Pacers” across him in Sharpie. In its heyday it was “Hicks versus Knicks”, Spike Lee’s mouth and Charles Oakley’s square jaw. It was John Starks’ epic struggle with humility and Patrick Ewing blowing a point blank dunk that became the finger roll heard ‘round the world.

In the middle of it all was Reggie Miller. His contributions are now the stuff of folklore. Eight points in six seconds, jawing with Spike while backpedaling from another three pointer and connecting on the only dunk in traffic I ever saw the guy attempt (and one that nearly caused the premature collapse of Market Square Arena).

Unfortunately today’s version just isn’t the same. These aren’t your Grandfather’s Pacers. Which is good, because if they were my five year old would have A LOT of explaining to do. Few would argue this series lacks the black eyes and showmanship of those mid nineties showdowns. Those were great Pacer teams. A prideful collection of savvy veterans, unselfish, hungry and all firmly in the middle of their strides.

This current group of Pacers seem to still be feeling their way. They’re youth is perhaps one logical explanation for the 30-2 run New York pasted them with last week. Fast forward to Saturday night and we saw a more focused group. One that teased us with a glimpse of what Roy Hibbert may be capable of becoming. In a brilliant performance Hibbert played a brand of tough and hungry basketball, the kind that may as well have been ripped from the heart of those old Pacers-Knicks series.

But as reassuring as Hibbert’s performance was, my recollections of series past went beyond a hatred for the Knicks. I was reminded of old Thirty-One. The cold blooded killer who always wanted the ball, always hungry to make a play. In this series, the standard Pacer response to any Knick run is to appear disoriented. David West has been the closest thing to a closer for Indiana, but it has to be Paul George moving forward. His 14 point, 8 rebound, 8 assist and 5 steal performance was inarguably solid, but George needs to be more. He needs to be a closer.

In the waning moments Saturday, the Pacers third year All Star watched the clock dwindling with the ball in his hands and instead of getting to the rim and making a play, he gave it up (before any help had arrived mind you) so the little used reserve Sam Young could take a 19 foot jumper instead. How Un-Reggie-like indeed.

Let me stop you before you label this a “Why can’t you be more like Reggie” rant. Consider it rather one part-time pretend sports columnist’s opinion that Indiana won’t make real progress until they find a bonafide closer. It took a closer to get to the Finals in 2000 and, as much as I hate the Knicks, it will take a closer to get past them in this series too.

© 2013 Eric Walker Williams