Official Harpringsucks.com NBA-wide season awards

With the conclusion of the regular season this week, columnists across the internet have been attempting to fill their quota of required column space by doing the easy "filler column." The column where they announce their picks for the post-season awards, put a nice picture of their picks in a sidebar, write two sentences of analysis and kick off for the day and light their cigars with $1,000,000 bills. Like Hot Rod Hundley to his beloved mistress Jack Daniels, the temptation to fill up page space with this stuff is irresistable.

There's just one problem: these columnists so extensively research each other's opinions that their collective wordsmithing is even more of a collaborative writing project than Charles Barkley's first "autobiography" where he claimed he was "misquoted." These writers spend so much time searching for the answer that meets critical consensus that they're missing the dark horse candidates who should truly be winning these awards. Thankfully, your trusty Harpringsucks.com writing staff is here to fill this black void in your soul with a few selected awards.

Rookie of the Year: Patrick O'Bryant, Idaho Stampede

The internet columnists would have you believe that Brandon Roy is the no-brainer pick for Rookie of the Year. That's simply not true. While Roy certainly had a solid season as a rookie averaging 16.8 points his other averages are less impressive at 4 assists per game and 4.4 rebounds for the Trailblazers. In contrast, O'Bryant averaged a double-double for the Stampede (12 points, 10 rebounds) in under 30 minutes a game. On top of that he provided stifling defense for Idaho with 2.88 blocks.

Those who buy into the mainstream columnists could immediately interrupt with "but O'Bryant wasn't THAT good! The Idaho Stampede were in the NBDL!" Let me remind you, Mr. Hollinger, that the Trailblazers didn't make the playoffs either and the Stampede won one more game than the Blazers (33), despite only playing a 50 game season. Endorsing Roy for rookie of the year is sort of like endorsing Zach Randolph for MVP: great stats but simply stacking up the numbers on a bad team. O'Bryant, on the other hand, is a proven winner and an NBDL all-star.

Honorable mention: Saer Sene

Sixth Man of the Year: Derek Fisher, Utah Jazz

After trading Andre Owens, Keith McLeod, Devin Brown, complimentary movie tickets, $15 in quarters, a signed Matt Harpring 8X10 glossy, and the always definite "future considerations" to Golden State for Derek Fisher the Jazz were poised to have one of the most solid reserve back-courts in the league. With Deron Williams heading into his second season after a rookie year full of fits and starts, everyone knew that the young point guard would have some rough patches in the season ahead. Thankfully the Jazz had bought themselves an insurance policy with some veteran leadership off the bench. Only one thing could ruin this plan: starting the 6'1" Fisher at shooting guard despite his career long shooting slump. Thank God no coach would be that foolish.

Honorable Mention: Renaldo Balkman

Coach of the Year: Sam Mitchell, Toronto Raptors

On this topic we must say that ESPN's intelligencia has it right. The current odds-on favorite for Coach of the Year has stumbled upon a novel gameplan: No gameplan! Toronto raptors fans have frequently marvelled at Mitchell's ability to simply pitch a ball on the floor and hand T.J. Ford the reigns to do as he pleases. Sam Mitchell is such a good coach that his team certainly hasn't been circulating rumors regarding their plans to fire him ALL season. And he would certainly never win a poll among players for "worst coach" less than a year ago.

(Please ignore the article at http://slam.canoe.ca/Slam/Basketball/NBA/Toronto/2006/03/09/1479992-sun.html . It's full of lies and slander propogated by Vince Carter and Damon Stoudamire acolytes.)

One can only imagine how poorly this team would have done under one of the more accomplished available coaches like Ron Jeremy look-a-like Stan Van Gundy, the incredibly moustachioed Rick Adelman, or Ronco hair oil spokesperson Mike Fratello.

Honorable Mention: Eric Musselman

Most Valuable Player: Charlie Villanueva, Milwaukee Bucks

This season has witnessed an incredible number of teams quite obviously tanking in order to get one of the top two selections in the draft. This culminated in the last few weeks of the season with many top players on teams in contention for the worst record in the league coming up mysteriously lame with indefinable injuries. Paul Pierce was shelved indefinitely with no real discussion of what was wrong with him. Michael Redd and Andrew Bogut both disappeared with little plausible explanation. Memphis outright bought out one of its better players (Eddie Jones) rather than risk him improving their record any more.

What these gambits all had in common though is that they occurred late enough in the season that they were easily counter-acted in a race to the bottom by competing teams shelving their top players as well. As a result, they did little to change the tanking team's relative position.

One man, however, had the foresight to start going down with implausible injuries back in November before tanking became the thing all the cool stars were doing. That man was Charlie Villanueva. A mere two weeks into the season, Charlie V knew his strong start was putting the possibility of drafting Greg Oden or Kevin Durant far outside of Milwaukee's reach. Therefore he missed, in succession: 3 weeks with a sprained left elbow, 1 game with right shoulder tendinitis, another 3 weeks with an undefined "right shoulder injury," another week with another undefined "ankle injury", and then finally packed it in for the last month of the season with right shoulder tendinitis again. In sum, he was able to miss over half the season.

His impact was not felt only in the time he was off the floor, however. Charlie managed to also make sure that about once a month he was either returning to his team or leaving them, thoroughly preventing his teammates from either getting used to his presence or getting used to playing without him. This injury pattern prevented the Bucks from achieving any level of consistent play with or without him and gave Milwaukee a great chance at landing one of the top two picks in the draft. Mr. Villanueva, we salute you!

Honorable Mention: Pau Gasol

Getting to the Basket a Positive Good?

Let's take a look at today's Jazz Naotes [sic]:

Fisher searching for shooting touch

Ah, this will be Fisher apologizing for his horrible performance in the last 13 games, wherein he's shooting 30.6% with 9.5 FGA/Gm.

Deron Williams jokes with Derek Fisher about passing the ball to him, and Fisher — smile ear-to-ear wide — plays along.
"He's just bitter," Fisher, the Jazz's starting shooting guard, says of Williams, the Jazz's starting point guard who this season is averaging more assists per game (9.4) than everyone else in the NBA except two-time league MVP Steve Nash.
"He's just bitter because he's second in the league in assists and not first," Fisher adds with a sincere laugh, "and he feels like it's my fault, because if I hit a couple more shots then he would have been first."

Here's how I guess that "joke" went:

Deron: "This guy ****ing sucks, he doesn't pass, he can't shoot, and he keeps driving 1-on-4 and getting blocked."
Fisher: "He's just bitter."
SLMedia: "Hahahahaha!"

Nothing like a person making fun of doing his job horribly. Right now, Fisher's in the Sitcom Zone. He has become so inept and so inexplicably liked that he's Urkeled the SLMedia into fawning submission.

My favorite part, of course, is Fisher's replying with a "sincere laugh." What does that even mean?

All kidding aside, Fisher — who won three title rings with the Los Angeles Lakers and is known for being a sharpshooter when games are on the line — realizes he is struggling with his shot.

He's "known for being a sharpshooter when games are on the line"? Yet again, perception has out-distanced reality, and--in this case--is lapping it. In recent weeks, there have been quite a few games on the line. And in recent weeks, Fisher is shooting 30.6%.

Before making just 1-of-4 against Portland on Monday, the veteran guard hit just 2-of-9, 2-of-10, 3-of-13 and 4-of-11 in four of his five prior games.
"It's probably a small mechanical thing that I'm continuing to try to work through — trying to keep my focus on the rim, trying to stay with my shot," Fisher said.

That's a pretty small sample. Here's an expanded one:

Apr. 16: 1-4
Apr. 14: 2-9
Apr. 13: 3-7
Apr. 11: 2-10
Apr. 9: 3-13
Apr. 7: 4-11
Apr. 6: 5-15
Apr. 4: 3-8
Apr. 1: 2-7
Mar. 30: 5-11
Mar. 28: 3-8
Mar. 26: 2-10
Mar. 24: 3-11

That's a small mechanical problem the way lacking an engine is a small mechanical problem for a car.

Here's a better suggestion for the root of his problems:

Derek Fisher, Career FG%: 39.7

If the guy's a sharpshooter when games are on the line, he must have been in many, many blowouts. In reality, his recent struggles are just part and parcel of being a crappy shooter. Occasionally, when he gets hot, he'll hit 44% for a stretch. But in general, he'll be hovering in the low 40s and high 30s, the Jazz equivalent of Montana.

"But I'm attacking the basket better than I ever have and getting to the free-throw line," he added after making 11-of-12 from the line against the Trail Blazers, "so I'm really just trying to stay focused and in the moment."

Hey, gotta give him credit. In that same 13-game stretch, he's shooting 4.6 FTA/GM, higher than 2.2 career average. But, then again, attacking the basket is usually a lot better when that attack doesn't result in the ball getting spiked to midcourt by Earl Watson. One of my favorite stats is Points Per Shot, which generally shows how well offensive attempts are translating to points. Fisher's PPS over the last 13 games:

1.0.

1.0! He is scoring 1 Point per FGA. By comparison, on the season:

Notorious Offensive Liability, AK: 1.40
MLA King, Harp: 1.36.
Soft European, Giri: 1.24.
Rafer Alston: 1.19
Adam Morrison: .97

OK, Adam Morrison really sucks, but you get the idea. Even when Fisher is "attacking the basket better than [he] ever [has]," he's being less productive than the average production of his teammates. Incredible.

Even with only one regular-season game, tonight's vs. Houston, remaining before the Jazz open a playoff series against the Rockets this coming weekend, Fisher is confident he can iron out the wrinkles before postseason play gets under way.
"I guarantee you there won't be many people that'll leave me open come the playoffs," he said. "There is no question that I'm gonna be able to knock shots down if my teammates continue to hit me when I'm open. I'll get the job done — that's no problem."

What we have here is a guy that's not only admitting he only turns it on for playoffs, he's bragging about it. But, a few points:
-I guarantee you there will be people leaving Fisher open in the playoffs
-I guarantee you that he will knock down shots if his teammates continue to hit him when he's open, just at around a 40% clip
-he won't get the job done, that's a problem

And if there is one thing that is no problem for Fisher, especially lately, it's taking shots.

Heaven help me, but I can't tell if this is supposed to be a dig or admiration.

"I've been frustrated and disappointed with myself throughout the season at times because I feel like knocking down a few more shots would have helped us win a few more games," he said. "But, at the same time, the reason I was brought here was ... not just shooting the ball, not just one aspect of the game.

Not just shooting the ball? If the Jazz brought Fisher in AT ALL to shoot the ball, then they need to purchase a simple calculator and learn how to divide total FGM by FGA. But you gotta give Fisher credit. As frustrated and disappointed as he's been at his inability to help the team succeed, he plays through it. Like when he shot 3-11 in 18 minutes versus the Grizzlies. Or 5-15 versus Sacramento in a 4-point loss.

"It was being a leader on and off the court, helping guys understand how to be professional. I feel like I've lived up to those expectations," added Fisher, who took several shots Monday that were directed at Jazz owner Larry H. Miller because of disparaging remarks that Miller earlier had made about the club. "Now we're getting into that part of the season where people really feel like I can help this team, and I'm relishing the opportunity to be a part of it."

Ah, and we finish with the classic "Juxtapose-Comment-with-Contradictory-Context-
that-May-or-May-Not-Be-Intentional."

And yes, we are getting into that part of the season where Fisher can help the team: the off-season. Any time Fisher is not on the court in a Utah uniform is a win/win situation.

SLMedia, God bless'em.

Clutch

Two summers ago, I had the opportunity to hike in Blue John Canyon with a couple of friends. Situated in the Robbers Roost area of south-central Utah, this hike involved several rope-assisted climbs and plenty of intense moments hanging on giant canyon walls.

At one point I remember thinking, as I was looking downwards at what I considered to be certain death, that I was a moron. "Why did I allow myself to get talked into this? What if my arms give out right now? I can't believe I'm missing American Idol for this!" (The last sentence was simply blog keyword loading in an attempt to rank #1 in searches for "Matt Harpring Sucks American Idol". Just in case.)

Then I thought, "you'd have to be an idiot to do this alone".

Most Utahns remember the news coverage of one man who did exactly that.


Look closely at the picture. Notice anything out of place? Like the fact that his arm has become a permanent part of the cliff wall?

Aron Ralston had set out for a carefree desert hike through Blue John Canyon in Southeastern Utah when, with no warning, he had descended into hell. The young man's arm was trapped by an 800-pound boulder and he was forced to make an unimaginable decision in order to survive.

Ralston: "And I was hanging from the boulder, from the top of it, where the last good handholds were. And that was when it shifted. So I dropped down here... and the boulder came and it smashed my left hand here, and it smashed my right hand up here. And then it slid down and it actually dragged my arm down and my arm was right about here.

"I threw myself against the boulder, just trying to get my knee onto this boulder, just lifting up, pushing up. But still, it was -- my hand was trapped. And progressively the pain faded as my hand lost sensation."

That's when Aron Ralston realized that he had violated one of the most basic rules of the outdoors. Always make sure someone knows where you are. But in a lapse from his normal routine, Aron had not told a soul. He wasn't expected back at work for days. No one would miss him, and when they did, they wouldn't know where to begin to look.

How he escaped this predicament is nothing short of clutch.

On the morning of his final day trapped inside the canyon, Ralston knew what he had to do to survive. He had to cut off his arm that was pinned by the heavy boulder.

That would be followed by a 65-foot rappel, and one more seemingly impossible task. With one arm, bleeding profusely, starved and dehydrated, close to shock, Ralston would have to hike seven miles out of the canyon in the direct midday sun. Then there would be an 800-foot vertical climb to the trailhead and his truck. The nearest hospital was a several hour drive.

Of course, he was greeted with wild enthusiasm from his family and friends, weeks of interviews, and a book deal to cement his celebrity status. The throngs managed to herald his brave accomplishments while somehow ignoring the completely avoidable circumstances that created the dilemma.

Fear not, Jazz fans. These types of courageous efforts are not limited to the canyons. We have our very own hero.


Forget the fact that he went 1-6 through the first 40 minutes of the game. Just ignore the possibility that it might have been Fisher who couldn't stay out of foul trouble. Who's that guy on the court who doesn't seem to be guarding anyone, but is nonetheless scrambling around like a headless chicken? Oh wait, that was Harpring on Monday. Is that Fisher who is throwing up a running, fading 15-foot shot bank brick over a double team with 15 seconds left on the shot clock? Yes, yes it is.

Forget all of that. After all, Jerry Sloan has. So have the broadcasters. Yes, the Jazz are down by 1 at home to the Timberwolves, which has everything to do with Fisher's "performance". But over the season, the pain of Fisher's play has progressively faded as the fans, coaches, and players have lost sensation. There are only 5 minutes left in the game and the team needs a basket.

Fisher brings the ball up the court, drives hard to his right, and launches a 20-footer. Nothing but net.

Clutch.

The Deadliest Catch

It is my new favorite TV show.

Each fishing season, a couple of hundred fishing vessels converge on The Bering Sea in pursuit of Alaskan king crab. A successful crab season can net a captain and his crew upwards of $1 Million. Such a bounty does not come without a price. Crab jockeys ride to work on multi-million dollar horses and toil in an environment where one navigational miscalculation or an unexpected temper tantrum from Mother Nature can claim a boat and her crew. It takes a special man to assume such responsibility for his crew and their collective safety and fiscal well being.

By all accounts, Derek Fisher would make a great fishing boat captain.

The Utah Jazz’s fishing season began this past summer when they swapped three worthless deckhands for Mr. Fisher. Even the most cynical Jazz fans were stunned at such a lopsided trade and more than a few attributed it to the possibility that Warrior GM Chris Mullin might once again be smuggling cases of Genesee Cream Ale into his office.

Fisher is a pro’s pro. Impeccable in character and commitment, so much so that it seems to the casual fan that even his on court mistakes ooze of quiet competence. He is the guy you hope your daughter brings home, the guy you picture towering over his young son in council, firm but calm, never laying a hand on the lad. A natural fit for a franchise that prides itself, not on the pretty paint job covering the new fishing vessel, but on the bulk and functionality of its anchor below the waterline.

There is one minor crack in the Jazz’s hull.

Derek Fisher is not a good basketball player.

He is an illusion, an on court empty fishing boat. It is not obvious at first, but it is now undeniable. Like the gale winds of the Bering Sea, he wears you down until finally you realize the storm is upon you and there is nothing you can do but seek shelter, turn for home, ride it out. Unfortunately, we now know that the journey home will take 3 more years and cost the Jazz $20,580,000 to complete.

My team’s summer fishing bounty is now my team’s Deadliest Catch.

We now know that the wave crashing drives into the lane are not random occurrences but are ongoing maneuvers in the Captain’s tactical fishing plan. One 3pt attempt leads to another and another and another. Success or failure of a previous attempt is irrelevant. There is no adjusting to sea or weather conditions. Each crab pot thrown overboard is an indiscriminate act, void of memory or purpose.

Oh, and that is the strength of his game.

Poor defense is spit polished through the illusion of hustle and he has mastered the variable-ratio reinforcement schedule of passing in order to keep his teammates minimally satisfied. Naturally, the Jazz Chain of Command loves him. There was never a doubt about that.

The NBA season grinds on and my new favorite TV Show begins its third season in April. Just in time for the playoffs. It now seems inevitable that the Jazz will be playing a game at the same time as an airing of a new episode. Which Deadliest Catch do I watch? As Captain Phil of the vessel Cornelia Marie says, “I feel like a one legged man in an ass-kicking contest.”

Harpring Sucks.