A Preview of the Nets-Knicks Game

Two trust fund kids failing out of Columbia, both ask the dean for one more chance. She says if either of them pass Thursday’s philosophy exam (35 multiple choice, two essays), she’ll let them stay. For now. Otherwise, they’re gone. Neither has showed up much for class this semester (or ever, really), but they do possess the mental capacity to pass one exam. But one of the dudes is in the middle of an ugly nine-day bender, and isn’t showing signs of shaking it off any time soon. The other just had a really weird break-up thing that he told everybody about on Facebook, but he claims it’s not really a break-up, just a change. But he also says that there wasn’t really anything to change since the relationship was never what people thought it was in the first place. Anyway, it’s messing up his school work that was already suffering.

And for some reason the exam is being broadcast on TNT. It's going to be awesome.

Coming Home

Alright team, huddle up. We're not happy about what we've done either. We said we were going to the store to pick up paper towels, and we haven't been back for five months. But we're on our way. Depending on traffic, we're like 20 minutes from home. The season is close, and we're getting closer. If he can return, so can we.

What the Playoffs Mean: Tactics

As a serious tactics nerd, a guy who loves just getting waist deep in statistics, strategy and—most importantly—tactics, the NBA Playoffs are a delight to take in on a nightly basis.

The possibility that two teams could face each other—and only each other—for seven games in a row, offers the unique opportunity for coaches to plan and build a tactical scheme, night-in, night-out. It is the truest test of tactical acumen. It highlights why basketball is the sport most influenced and affected by tactics.

Smart tactics, and a team is hoisting the trophy at the end of the season, spraying champagne over one another, smoking cigars.

Poor tactics and it's Vinny Del Negro, sitting at his laptop updating the ol’ resume.

“Former NBA Player, Coach and Avid Fan. Looking to sink my teeth into the most ambitious of basketball-related projects.”

Wherein some consider the NFL the most tactical of all games (a team can literally do a fake field goal every play if it wants, i.e. tactics), the NFL playoffs are all one-offs. The coach has one shot to get his tactics right and then either wins or loses. The winner develops entirely new tactics for an entirely new opponent. It is tactical, sure, but not as tactical in the sense that the tactics in the NBA remain critical over the course of a potential two weeks.

It is tactics in the NBA, living and breathing tactics, tactics forever shifting and growing, tactics.

Baseball is not really a tactical game in that the only tactical decisions that are made is whether or not to hit-and-run, bunt or bring in a left-handed relief pitcher. Are these tactics? Sure, but baseball is a sport of one-on-one battles and then a group of defensive players doing their best not to make a mistake.

“Oh boy, he really should have caught that ball. Well, that’s baseball, Susan.”

No tactics there.

Does deciding whether to creep a third baseman forward to protect a potential bunt count as tactics? Unequivocally, no. Not when compared to figuring out how the hell to stop the 6’8” 260-pound perfect specimen that is LeBron James over the course of seven games.

Hockey, the sport furthest from the sphere of anything that even closely resembles tactics, is a sport wherein the players do their best to dump the puck in the opponent’s zone. That’s about it. No tactics there. Even if there were tactics (and just to be clear, we've established that there are not tactics), it is impossible to see the puck on TV so how would anyone even be able to tell? Bring back the mid-90s Fox broadcast where the puck was lit up. Those are some tactics by Fox right there.

Soccer is tactically driven, yes, but again the playoff competitions are almost always one-offs or two-offs, so it follows a similar pattern to the NFL: set the tactics before the match, maybe make a substitute or two (mostly bringing on a defender if a team is winning or an attacker if the team is losing) and then move on to the next match. Yes, there is a difference between playing a 4-4-2 and a 4-2-3-1, but it is not different like apples and oranges are different.

There are absolutely zero tactics in lacrosse, wherein the only foreseeable tactic is to win ground balls and then work the ball around the outside of the attacking zone until the best player either goes one-on-one or shoots from distance. No tactics in that. Maybe some tactics in the “fo-go” ("face-off, get off"), the player that specializes in face-offs and then promptly leaves the field. There is a spattering of tactics there, but that’s more of a position than anything else. Good try on the tactics there, lacrosse.

No tactics in beach volleyball: Bump, set, spike!

Are there any other team sports?

The individual sports? “Fa-get-about-it!” No tactics in boxing: punch the other person until they collapse in a heap of brain damage. No tactics in tennis: hit the ball where the opponent cannot get it! No tactics in golf: Give that little white dimpled ball a real whack! No tactics in wrestling: “Take him down, Eddie!” No tactics in track: run faster than the person next to you who is also running fast. No tactics in swimming: Swim faster than the person next to you who is also swimming fast.

Nope, the tactics—the truest of tactics—come in the NBA playoffs. Take, for instance, this fascinating Eastern Conference series taking place. Roy Hibbert has been giving the Heat fits all series, so what does Miami do? Tactics! Double Hibbert when he’s high in the paint and force the big to make a decision. That’s tactics. Love those tactics.

The rub here is that over the next 48 hours, the coaches and players will watch the tape of the game probably four or five times, discuss at length what worked and what did not, and come up with an entirely new set of tactics.

Should the Pacers protect the three-point line? Tactics. Should they deny LeBron the ball? Tactics. Should they play through Hibbert? Tactics.

The tactics are everywhere in the playoffs.

Foul a three-point shooter with a three-point lead at the end of a game: Freaking tactics right there. Pick-and-rolls, double-down, transition defense, spread the floor, isolation, ball movement: Jesus, Mary and Joseph! My head is spinning with all these NBA Playoff basketball tactics.

So, as the Playoffs continue into June, know that the tactics are everywhere. Know that the players have a clear tactical goal in mind, acutely and meticulously discussed and planned by their coaching staff for hours and hours and hours and hours.

Like Daniel Day Lewis, in the NBA Playoffs, there will be tactics.

Question of the Day

What do you think Evan Turner has planned for Memorial Day weekend?

2013 Draft Lottery Running Diary (with Pictures!)

Oh NBA draft lottery, we’ve come so far since David Stern brazenly grabbed the envelope with the folded corner and handed Patrick Ewing to the Knicks. The whole process has grown so much that the selection process happens off-screen now, so we can be TOTALLY sure a team doesn’t get a #1 pick because Dan Gilbert was owed one or Tom Benson just took the Hornets off the league’s hands. Things like that would NEVER happen at the draft lottery!

We here at No Regard find lots of value in the more trivial NBA happenings, and since televised corporate meetings where you kinda feel like something’s off are kinda my thing, I DVR’d the draft lottery just to watch Arrested Development on Netflix and catch the #1 pick later or maybe just look on Twitter write a running diary. There are white guys AND more white guys! I hope you like pictures of someone else's TV. 

 Here we go:

 :00 – looks like I missed the opening sequence, if there was one. Here’s Chad Ford sitting at a table next to some other guy talking about Nerlens Noel. A graphic of the draft rules comes on the screen and the rosters of the league’s crappiest teams scroll across the bottom.

 The camera turns to Heather Cox standing in a room full of fresh NBA gear. “Nice!” you probably just thought to yourself. “That stuff must be worth a fortune!” Well, you’re wrong. Just look at this crap.

 I’d pay like 8 bucks for the contents of that room.

 :01 - Cox tells us she’s in the Good Morning America studios where the lottery itself actually happened. Apparently somewhere there is a locked room full of team executives and exactly four media members plus “members of the accounting firm Ernst & Young” (because they DEFINITELY didn’t rig it this year). They don’t have phones or internet in there, just David Stern telling them exactly what will happen to their families if they go anywhere near Twitter in the next half-hour. Then Cox shows us the ball picking device and some charts with numbers.

In case you care, the Magic have the best chance of winning because the Dwight Howard trade turned out so well for them.

 :03 Ford starts telling us about a bunch of guys we didn’t bother watching in college this year and says maybe Ben McLemore can be the #1 pick (I'm disregarding this, it's Nerlens' night). Heather Cox re-appears and talks to Anthony Bennett from UNLV, who has his arm in a sling. Along with Nerlens Noel’s torn ACL, this may be the gimpiest draft in a while.

:05 – I still haven’t figured out who the co-host talking to Chad Ford is. Ford is talking about guys who might get picked 5-10.  They won’t be heard from until the vastly underrated Rising Stars Challenge where they’ll take turns picking on Brandon Knight.

:08 – We’re suddenly transported to the Simmons/Jalen Rose/Magic Johnson/Mike Wilbon Patronizing Everyone pregame show. Simmons runs through his Karma Power Rankings. [5. Philly 4. Orlando 3. Wizards 2. Kings (no) 1. Pistons.] That was even more pointless than this blog post. Simmons predicts a Kings lottery win, which is the consensus suspicion among NBA conspiracy theorists.

:11 – The guy who runs NBA security just escorted some accountant to the podium with the draft results. They are the only two people in the room who already know the results.

This is so white. We’re almost halfway through and have already gotten two commercial breaks, a cut-away to the Spurs-Griz pregame show, a room full of worthless gear and several people taking their jobs way too seriously. We haven’t met any team representatives yet and don’t know about any of the picks.

:14 - Time for a vignette of possible lottery picks! Ten years ago I watched this very show to find out where LeBron, Darko, Wade, Melo and Bosh might go. Today, I barely know who the guys in this video are.

:15 – Meet the team reps!

Jazz: old white guy

Mavericks: middle-aged white guy

Raptors: middle-aged white guy

Sixers: middle-aged white guy

Blazers: Damian Lillard!

Timberwolves: Kevin Love! He brought a Ricky Rubio bobblehead, doesn’t say a word, is so far beyond this crap.

Wizards: Bradley Beal!

Pistons: Andre Drummond!

Kings: Keith Smart (DeMarcus hasn’t fired him yet!)

Pelicans: Monty Williams lies to us about how excited he was to have Austin Rivers on his team. Also everyone is officially calling them the Pelicans now. I want them to win this so we can have Nerlens in Nawlins.

Suns: old white guy

Cavs: Dan Gilbert’s kid in a bow tie and holy crap his voice has dropped. Also he’s FURIOUS to be at the lottery again.

Bobcats: a man named Fred Whitfield who is shockingly NOT white. If I told you to speak to a Charlotte businessman named Fred Whitfield and released you into this room, you’d take at least 7 guesses before picking this guy.

Magic: old white guy

That’s four players, two coaches, seven non-Kevin Love white guys of varying ages and one Fred Whitfield.

Side note: Dan Gilbert is currently 2/3 of the way to actually becoming Willy Wonka. 

:18 – It’s Adam Silver time! I guess Stern has some reporter’s blood all over his suit and didn’t bring a change of clothes. Picks 9-14 go in the order they were slotted to go, with the Raptors losing their pick to the Thunder, which is somehow related to the James Harden trade.  

:20 – The Pistons get the 8^th pick, which means the Wizards get to squander a top 3 pick this year! They show Bradley Beal, who has not yet processed this information.

:21 – The Bobcats get the 4^th pick despite having the 2^nd best odds to win the lottery. Whitfield looks pissed.

That leaves the Wiz, Cavs and Magic. The camera cuts to Nerlens Noel, who must be begging for the Wizards to win this right now, the Magic are no fun and Cleveland is in Cleveland.

:24 Chad Ford promises there will be actual basketball on after this. Bradley Beal, Dan Gilbert’s kid and this guy are waiting to see the #1 pick.

He looks fun.

The Wiz get the #3 pick. Beal does not care at all.

:25 – Magic get the #2 pick and Dan Gilbert’s kid finally acts like a kid with a solid fist-pump. Cox interviews Dan Gilbert, who promptly makes a joke about keeping his kid confined to his room for six weeks for not winning the draft lottery last year (he's probably not joking). There is a palpable sense that the Magic guy wants to punch both Gilberts in the face and that all the players were ready to go to 1OAK with JR Smith an hour ago.

:27 – The guy who isn’t Chad Ford interviews Nerlens, who mumbles through the whole thing. He’s not looking forward to Cleveland.

:28 – Turns out Chad Ford was Jay Bilas the whole time. I still haven’t figured out the co-host’s name. Every single team rep has already bounced.

:29 – Since nobody is left in the room, they give us this fantastic picture of what the creepiest rich people in Cleveland look like. Note the guys sitting on either side of Dan Gilbert. 

There's a 100% chance they have a basement full of Oompa Loompa's.

  

That’s enough of this. Don't worry, Nerlens. That really dumb sound you hear is everyone in Cleveland assuming this will get LeBron to come back. Also, Kyrie looks really fun to play with, so there's that.

NBA Middle Names: Jason Collins

We at No Regard spend a lot of time in our NBA knitting circles trying to figure out the human side of these players. Whether it's musing about their commutes to work, how much "Call of Duty" they play, or what their favorite snack food is, we like to remind ourselves that NBA players are nothing more than young men with enviable jobs. What better way to humanize our heroes than look up their middle names?

Jason Paul Collins

What The Playoffs Mean: The Gorgeous Opportunity To Lose

The playoffs are the sacred text, broad and malleable enough to explain any point of view. They are the way players reach immortality, the way GMs keep their jobs for another year. They are the reason Courtney Lee, Trevor Ariza, JJ Barea and Derek Fisher are kind of close to household names. They are why they play the games and why we watch. But they also mean a lot more than this, which is why we are here. From now until the end of the finals, we'll be here, toiling away, trying to unpack exactly what makes these games so great, exactly What The Playoffs Mean.

This post was written by Benny Nadeau, an editorial intern at The Brooklyn Game, student at Emerson College and a Nets fan who uses "we" when talking about the team. He loves Toko Shengelia more than anyone, and we love him for that. Follow him @bennyflyz.


As a New Jersey Nets fan for so long, there is something incredibly painless about losing now. The Nets haven’t made the playoffs since the 2006-2007 season, and it has made me as hardened as my father who grew up with the chokiest of Red Sox teams. I cried when we traded Jason Kidd to the Dallas Mavericks in 2008 so he could get a legitimate shot of winning a championship (he did) and learned to be unfairly skeptical about any NBA player with the last name of Williams (after drafting Marcus, Sean, Terrence). After enduring the miserable-record-setting 0-18 start to the 2009-2010 season en route to a horrifying 12-70 campaign, it was tough to see through the tears clouding my vision—but, to be fair, it was equally as hard to see through the paper bags as well.

Through all of this, there was hope: John Wall. The freakishly athletic would-be superstar out of Kentucky was the clear-cut top prize in the 2010 draft. And at a 25 percent chance at landing the number one pick and the savior to our floundering franchise, I decided to have an NBA Draft Lottery party. I invited all of my friends—the same ones who had given me reminders at every possible moment of the Nets’ futility—over to watch my team enter a new era of basketball.

I watched through my hands when the New Jersey Nets received the 3rd pick in the lottery. John Wall would go to Washington and the curse continued.

Its taken some time, but in an odd way, things have worked out.

What The Playoffs Mean: Who Knows

The playoffs are the sacred text, broad and malleable enough to explain any point of view. They are the way players reach immortality, the way GMs keep their jobs for another year. They are the reason Courtney Lee, Trevor Ariza, JJ Barea and Derek Fisher are kind of close to household names. They are why they play the games and why we watch. But they also mean a lot more than this, which is why we are here. From now until the end of the finals, we'll be here, toiling away, trying to unpack exactly what makes these games so great, exactly What The Playoffs Mean.

I was supposed to be writing about how great the week leading up to the playoffs is. How when your team makes it, that period is full of limitless possibilities. How the best part of the playoffs doesn't take place during the playoffs at all, but in the days leading up to it. That's when infinity is on your side for once. That's when your team wins the title. Because once the games actually start, that's when reality blinds you—that's when your team can't guard a stupid pick and roll or beat a zone defense or hit open shots on the road even though they are goddamn professionals. But before that first weekend? You're wary of making plans in June because you may have to watch your team in the finals.

But that's not what I'm writing about because there are terrible maniacs in this world. Monday carried on and words like "Boston" and "West" came to mean awful events instead of American cities.

So what do the playoffs mean right now? The same thing they mean every night, Pinky: Nothing. This week was another reminder—in a far too long line of constant horrific reminders—that the only thing that really matters is that people die, more often than not, unjustly. So it's embarrassing how soon on Monday my mind shifted to Brook Lopez. He's making his playoff debut this weekend on the team I root for—the team that's making its return to the playoffs after a six-year hiatus. This stuff is important to me and I don't think there's anything I can do about that.

But also, what else should I be thinking about after tragedy? My family and friends? Why, to remind myself that they are the people I'll miss or devastate, depending on the timing if our respective farewells? Should I be thinking about the people behind the bombing? I dunno. I'm not one of the people tasked with finding the culprits, so not sure that will do any good. Even now that we're able to put a terrible face to the senselessness, why should I keep thinking about them? I guess eventually I'll be interested in trying to understand this mess. But also, I'll never really be able to understand it or any of the other tragedies constantly happening around the world. And I like my job well enough, but it's tough to comfort myself with spreadsheets and client memos.

So I think about the playoffs. I get how small it is, but everything is small—except for the big things. So I don't know, hold on to the small things or something. Look, I'm a little preoccupied while writing this—the second season is starting, after all.

What The Playoffs Mean: The Playoffs Kinda Suck When Your Team Plays

The playoffs are the sacred text, broad and malleable enough to explain any point of view. They are the way players reach immortality, the way GMs keep their jobs for another year. They are the reason Courtney Lee, Trevor Ariza, JJ Barea and Derek Fisher are kind of close to household names. They are why they play the games and why we watch. But they also mean a lot more than this, which is why we are here. From now until the end of the finals, we'll be here, toiling away, trying to unpack exactly what makes these games so great, exactly What The Playoffs Mean.
 
Here's how I imagine a day in the life of a near-homeless heroin addict:

NBA Middle Names: Reggie Evans

We at No Regard spend a lot of time in our NBA knitting circles trying to figure out the human side of these players. Whether it's musing about their commutes to work, how much "Call of Duty" they play, or what their favorite snack food is, we like to remind ourselves that NBA players are nothing more than young men with enviable jobs. What better way to humanize our heroes than look up their middle names?

Reginald Jamaal Evans

No Regard Recaps: A New Source of Clean Energy

One Game We Watched Last Night: Denver Nuggets vs. Oklahoma City Thunder

Nuggets: 114, Thunder: 104

This game is the answer the America's clean energy question. Watching Russ and Kenneth and Iggy and even Reggie Jackson blur across the floor like manic jaguars in fast forward presents an idea: Harness this energy to power cities. A Westbrook drive could heat a school for three days. A Faried offensive rebound and dunk could run a fleet of buses for a week. A JaVale goaltend could power one goaltending-powered joke machine for eternity.

If we want to get that highly coveted federal grant, though, somebody has to talk to Kevin Durant. In the fourth quarter, he was not being absurdly athletic and energetic (even though he is). He was being unfailingly polite. On most possessions, he stood behind the three line to the left of the key and called for the ball, which never came. On two consecutive possessions he calmly waved at Westbrook like someone who has run into a friend he is only sort of excited to see. Russell is too constantly hopped up on fury and Cheetos to notice such tepid pleas. Kev didn't get the ball. He is and will always be the most important piece of the Thunder's government proposal, so he needs to act like it.

Sure, this whole energy experiment has its risks (as Serge's bloodied head discovered on its own), but what revolution doesn't? A playoff series between these two teams would ween us of foreign oil in seven games.

One Game We Didn't Watch Last Night: Los Angeles Clippers vs. Sacramento Kings

Clippers: 101, Kings: 116

Haha, ok. So happy the Kings didn't waste a 19-point, 7-assist game by Toney Douglas.

No Regard Previews: NBA Forever

One Game We Will Watch Tonight: Miami Heat vs. Memphis Grizzles

How could we not suggest that this is the game you watch tonight?

NBA Middle Names: Al Horford

We at No Regard spend a lot of time in our NBA knitting circles trying to figure out the human side of these players. Whether it's musing about their commutes to work, how much "Call of Duty" they play, or what their favorite snack food is, we like to remind ourselves that NBA players are nothing more than young men with enviable jobs. What better way to humanize our heroes than look up their middle names?

Alfred Joel Horford

No Regard's 2013 Dunk Contest Staff Picks

Over here at No Regard, we love everything about All-Star Weekend. Everything. The Celebrity Game? Yes, please! The Skills Contest? Sing us up! Alicia Keys and Ne-Yo? Sure, pump it straight into our veins! Nothing gets us off like the Dunk Contest, though, and nothing ever will. It is, to us, the zenith of physical achievement for the human race--a display of mind-bending athleticism, competitive creativity and downright goofiness.

As much as we agree on all that, we don't agree on who the top dog of this year's contest will be. Below are our individual picks.

Adam's Pick: James "Flight" White

Why you should root for him: White was born for this. I'm not sure if there's ever been a contestant who was more excited to be a part of the contest. From his plea to Dwayne Wade to support his bid to his very confident, very exciting hints of what he has in store, it's obvious that White has been dreaming of this for a long time. Also, he has promised to go prop-free, which I think is a much needed step toward the direction of the pre-Dwight era. While there's nothing wrong with props per se, at this point a man and a ball and a hoop--and that's it--will seem like a breath of fresh air. I forgot where I read this, but kudos to whoever I am paraphrasing when I say that the reason James White exists in the NBA is to win a dunk contest. Also: THIS.

Ideal contest-winning dunk: 360 from the free throw line. The free throw line dunk is White's calling card. In the below video, you can see him jump the stripe twice, both times with insane results. After a YouTube search, I found one video of a dude doing a full revolution with his back foot from the foul line. It's impressive. But I think White could do it without stepping over.

What it should be called: Flight 360

Odds he will win: 1:1

Requisite YouTube viewing: 2006 NCAA Dunk Contest. Check out the 2:28 and 3:44 marks to see where the word "swag" was born.

Andrew's Pick: Jeremy Evans

Why you should root for him: I know almost nothing about Jeremy Evans. I know that early this season (or maybe it was the preseason) he had maybe the highlight of the year when he blocked some poor guy on one end and dunked on some poor guy on the other end. (Ed.- It was only one poor guy, and yes of course it was Ronny Turiaf.) I'm not doing it justice, hold on.

See!? Whoa. Great play amirite? Kid can fly. Anywho, the only other thing I know about him is that he won the dunk contest last year. But I have no recollection of a single dunk he did. I'm not going to look it up because last year's dunk contest was probably the worst ever and bummed me out so much. I don't want to relive that monstrosity. What I do want, though, is for Jeremy Evans to make up for last year's entire contest. Since he is the lone holdover--the defending champion, no less--he needs to carry the mantle. He needs to seek untamed redemption in his dunks. The only way we can forget about last year's Kenny Smith-led circus of tears is by having our palettes cleansed by a stunning performance by the champ.

Ideal contest-winning dunk: Have the lights in the arena turned up as bright as possible. Tape his mouth shut so he can't give a pointless pre-dunk interview with Nick Cannon.Write the word "PROP" on the basketball with a black magic marker and put the ball through his legs as he dunks over a mic-less Kenny Smith.

What it should be called: The Apology

Odds he will win: Not very good.

Requisite YouTube viewing: Ugh, fine, here are last year's highlights.

Dave's Pick: Gerald Green

Why you should root for him: I graduated from high school in 2005. As such, I took particular interest in the high school players drafted that year (the last year high school guys were allowed to be drafted). Green was drafted by the Celtics and immediately became a guy I followed closely. Though he was part of the worst Celtics team ever, I was sad to see him get tossed into the Garnett trade and even sadder to see him slowly wash out of the league after winning the 2008 dunk contest by blowing out a candle in a cupcake on the rim and dunking between his legs with his shoes off. I was mad at him for not panning out despite his superb athletic ability, but then I thought about it another way. Gerald Green initially fell out of the NBA in 2009, leaving him temporarily unemployed. You know which other 22 year olds were unemployed in 2009? ALL OF THEM. Gerald took his talents to Russia and China. After bouncing around our frenemy nations, Gerald somehow wound up on the Nets about a year ago (his experience working under Russian ownership was probably helpful... or not... who cares) and wound up throwing down the meanest alley-oop windmill ever seen by man. He's now on the Pacers, but who cares. He's back in the dunk contest, in his hometown, the places where he made his name. He's come all the way back. Let him eat cake.

Ideal contest-winning dunk: One-handed windmill while eating a cupcake with the other hand. Look at the top left of this page. I know what you're thinking: "That looks cool, but why isn't he eating that?" Well, it's probably moldy now and the icing is probably hard as a rock, but here's his chance!

What it should be called: The Cake Eater

Odds he will win: 4-1

Requisite YouTube viewing: That mean alley-oop windmill I was talking about. 

Pete's Pick: Kenneth "The Manimal" Faried

Why you should root for him: He’s from Newark, New Jersey. He’s a fine upstanding young man. He respects his elders and his hair is stunning. He’s a serious baller, too. The Nuggets rarely run a set for Faried but he still finds a way to get his fingerprints all over the stat sheet. And the hustle plays--he works his behind off, all game long. Never complains and will one day be an amazing scorer. He’s already an aerial threat the likes of which have never been seen.

Ideal contest-winning dunk: An alley-oop, body-twisting, eye-popping, sexually appealing (in a basketball way) one-handed, throw-down-the-rock-hard dunk. Some variation of that. If you haven’t seen Faried dunk--well, then, you best call someone. Or just turn on one of the many machines that are capable of showing the Sprite Slam Dunk Contest and tune in. Faried did not get his nickname by chillin’ out below the rim, doing math homework and playing World of Warcraft. This gentlemen flies high, early and often, to the rack. Ty Lawson closes his eyes and hurls the ball within the general vicinity of the Manimal. Faried then arrives from nowhere and like a bolt of thunder, makes everyone watching jump a little bit when he dunks: always with minimal regard for human life. Unlike thunder, when Faried dunks, it’s not scary. I hate thunder.  Not the Thunder of Oklahoma City, thunder like the weather thunder.

What it should be called: The Manimalwich

Odds he will win: Bet your mortgage on it, big boy.

Requisite YouTube viewing: Faried's top ten plays of his rookie season. Number seven is great stuff, posterizing the ghost of Chris Kaman and then subtly staring him down on the jog back.

Adam's Basketball Basement Tapes: Volume Four

My dad saves everything. For a long time, this tendency annoyed me. Recently, though, I realized that for every one of my worthless elementary school lunch menus sitting in a paper bag in his basement, right next to it is a hilarious, terrifying, and/or touching piece of my childhood. It just so happens that many, many of these tokens of nostalgia—papers, drawings, notes—are focused on basketball. I was as passionate in my fandom as a child as I am now. In this series, I'll share with you some of the artifacts uncovered while digging through the minutiae of my youth.

Okay, guys. Last Basement Tape. Here are the remaining fragments of my childhood insanity captured for posterity and for giggles. Hope you enjoyed them. Now I just need to find a venue to air my adolescent rap lyrics...

Artifact #1: A list of basketball players who wear the number "1" on their jerseys

Oh yeah, and Warren Moon and Gary Anderson(?)(!) too.

Artifact #2: An essay on things that bothered me

Turning a list of pet peeves into a hit song eighteen years after I turned mine into a school essay, Chief Keef? That's that shit that bothers me. On the real, I still hate it when the other team has three guys on me and I can't do anything. Can I live?!

Artifact #3: A folder of Jerry Stackhouse taking it to the hole on some dudes with goofy jerseys

While not quite as awesome as the Shawn Kemp folder from the last go-round, this one is definitely still a winner. I made the all the Raptors players red, just like the raptors on their very timeless pinstripe jerseys. Hilarious. I also drew black lipstick on Jerry Stackhouse so that he looked like a lady. A bald lady. Classic.

Artifact #4: An essay on sports

Hey, you ever heard of sports? They're pretty neat. One of my favorite things to do in my spare time, playing sports. Although these days, the fact that playing basketball requires a lot of energy would certainly not make it into my persuasive essay on why you should play sports. My Brooklyn rec league team played a high school junior varsity team recently. We have five or six guys who are over 6'3". We won by two. Babies be runnin'. True story.

Artifact #5: A drawing of the temple that I deserve

There's nothing weird about claiming my name as an Egyptian God is Allah. You're weird, guy. Just put me in that temple with a basketball and a CD player for listening to Wu-Tang anytime I damn well please. I'll be cool.

Artifact #6: My retirement speech, from when I retire from the NBA

Daddy's coming home, Tre.

Why You (Yes, You!) Should Watch the NBA Rising Stars Challenge

The purpose of the draft lottery is to help struggling teams get better players. This has the side effect of ensuring that you NEVER get to see the good young players on national TV, because they are on awful teams (don’t pretend you’d recognize Brandon Knight if you saw him walking around town). That said, the Rising Stars game gives a regular, non-League Pass NBA fan like myself something they don’t get to see: the good young guys. Sure, you’ve probably seen plenty of Kahwi Leonard and the Manimal, but there are a ton of talented young players that you basically heard about until they got drafted and never saw again. In this one meaningless circus of a game, you get to see all of them.

I had never seen Kyrie Irving play until last year’s Rising Stars game. He only played a handful of college games and, frankly, I don’t watch much college basketball anyway. I really had no idea what we were getting with this guy (the Uncle Drew video hadn’t happened yet). Kyrie went 8-8 from three in last year’s game and pretty much dominated everything, plus we got to see his fantastic handle.

I was sold. I immediately started watching every possible Cavs game I could get access to (mostly when they happened to be on at bars). I went to the first Cavs-Nets game at Barclays this season just to see that handle, and Kyrie didn’t disappoint. My girlfriend got me an Irving t-shirt for Christmas (thanks!) and I can’t wait to see him in the main event next weekend. The guy is already my favorite non-Celtic. All thanks to this silly exhibition.

Don’t get me wrong here, this thing is barely a game. It’s pretty much all behind-the-back, alley-oop windmill dunks, spin moves and centers shooting threes. There are almost no passes between two guys who are both standing on the ground and defense is limited to Greg Monroe messing with John Wall’s off-the-bounce self-oop. The game is played in 20-minute halves and guys get added last minute based on things like Linsanity and having a cool flat-top. Last year, the teams combined for 279 points. In short, it was awesome.

Wherever you are next Friday night, take this opportunity to check out guys who used to just be names to you. You probably won’t get many more chances to see Andre Drummond, Damian Lillard, Alexey Shved and too many Bobcats, Pistons and non-Irving Cavs play again. Oh, and Kyrie will be there too.

Also, THIS STUFF:

Who'd You Get?!: Vlade Divac, Topps Stadium Club (1996)

We at No Regard used to collect basketball cards. Convincing a parent to shuttle us and our friends to the local collector's shop was a consistently important victory. When we found out KMart was selling entire boxes for $20, we almost wore out our bike tires pedaling back and forth.

Now we've unearthed the cache, and the results are stunning. We've been reminded that players named Dino Radja and Wesley Person briefly and forcefully carved out steady roles for themselves in the league. We've been straight tickled by the goofy casual pics. And we've been touched and inspired by the relentless optimism of the copywriters. We hope you enjoy this odd time capsule, a Utopian angle from which to view the league, where everyone is the next somebody and context is pointless.

Back of the card after the jump.

No Regard Recaps: Kobe-the-Point

One Game We Watched Last Night: Phoenix Suns vs. Los Angeles Lakers

Suns: 96, Lakers: 86


So many storylines to discuss from this basketball game: Kobe's new role on the Lakers as Kobe-the-Point, the Suns rocking their old-school threads and Steve Nash returning to his old ball club. For me, though, everything in the NBA is about Kobe-the-Point these days.

Adam's Basketball Basement Tapes: Volume Three

My dad saves everything. For a long time, this tendency annoyed me. Recently, though, I realized that for every one of my worthless elementary school lunch menus sitting in a paper bag in his basement, right next to it is a hilarious, terrifying, and/or touching piece of my childhood. It just so happens that many, many of these tokens of nostalgia—papers, drawings, notes—are focused on basketball. I was as passionate in my fandom as a child as I am now. In this series, I'll share with you some of the artifacts uncovered while digging through the minutiae of my youth.

Another set of goodies I found during my Christmas visit. We've got a little bit of everything here. A super cool poster, another stellar piece of art like a regular Jeff Koons, some pretty conservative, old white man thoughts on the NBA lockout, you name it. Aside from the first one and the lockout one, these are all from sixth grade, as far as I can tell. It was a cool year.

Artifact #1: An introductory letter to pen pal

There are a lot of interesting facts just on this first page of my letter. You find out about the very special speaker who came to my school that day. You find out that not only is "Regulate" by Warren G. and Nate Dogg my favorite song, but that I love it so much that I named my hermit crab "Warren." Most importantly, though, you finally get definitive confirmation that yes, I did indeed have Shaq's album.

Artifact #2: A plea to come watch the Heminway Hornets on Friday nights

Listen, guy, what else are you gonna do on a Friday night? Go meet some girls? Get your drink on? Watch the Knicks and see Jason Kidd DROP DIMES? Fuck all that noise. Come see the Heminway Hornets. Check out that charity game! Cedric Ceballos and Rex Chapman?! That's so good it doesn't need a verb!

Artifact #3: Just a folder with Shawn Kemp dunking over David Robinson on it, no big deal

You'd think I would have been wary of anything showing The Admiral in a negative light, but apparently Shawn Kemp power violence jams trumped that notion and just about everything else. If I saw this folder in a store today, I'd buy it, regardless of price or lack of any idea what to do with it aside from just staring at it like forever.

Artifact #4: A couple lists of players with specific skill sets

I'll tell ya, just about anybody can dunk. Ball handling, though? Only Kenny. (Hey, remember LaPhonso Ellis? Remember LaPhonso Ellis!)

Artifact #5: An opinion paper on the NBA lockout (7th grade)

Sometimes when you're a kid, you subscribe to Sports Illustrated and you read Rick Reilly and no one tells you that he's a sentimental fool and that his cutesy morality play of a column is actually dangerous to impressionable little brains. So then, after you get older and go to a liberal arts college and take some sociology classes and become, ya know, more of a "power to the players" type of guy, you look back at sentences you wrote in childhood papers, such as the following ones, and cringe: "I feel that this whole situation is setting a bad example for children. It is teaching kids that they can be spoiled and only think about money...What ever happened to the love of the game?" At least I wasn't reading Phil Mushnick.

Artifact #6: A mixed media piece of some hands

So the hand in the middle is technically the reason this is here. It says "Penny" on it, because from 4th to 6th grade, I was the president of my own Penny Hardaway fun club, as you know from previous posts. But don't leave this page before you take a good look at the rest of these hands. You've got the hand making the "Westside" sign and repping my favorite sports teams from that period. You've got the hand with an alien, some supermodels and female MTV personalities, and a broken pinky. You've got the hand with an alien, a smiley face, and a broken pinky. And then you've got the hip-hop hand, featuring the likes of Ghostface, Lil' Kim, Westside Connection, and a 2Pac two-finger ring. The glitter? All gold everything.

Everything Life Has to Offer, Including the Jumbotron

Sometimes we go to a basketball game and nothing happens. Players set picks, coaches scribble lines on a white board and fans crush concessions. Then there's the once-in-a-hundred-years game where just about every emotion one experiences in life seeps through the cracks of an arena and overwhelms us. It  leaves us feeling strange, confused, ecstatic, moved, hopeful, emotional, depressed, perplexed, angry, embarrassed, amazed, drained, grateful, delighted and awkwardly dancing for thousands to see. That was my afternoon on a chilly Sunday in Boston.

No Regard Previews: Xs and Os

One Game We Will Definitely Watch Tonight: Boston Celtics vs. New York Knicks

The last time these two basketball outfits met, the ball game ended in a chaotic mess. Carmelo Anthony alerted the NYPD and whoever else would listen that a citywide manhunt of Kevin Garnett must ensue. So tonight, one can only imagine that the majority of TNT's coverage will center around these two competitive gents. Will they shake hands? Will they fight? Will they kiss!?

But since we pride ourselves on ignoring all that silly stuff, instead focusing only on round ball tactics and nothing else here at No Regard I'll say this: Tonight's professional basketball bonanza presents a very serious contrast in basketball playing styles. 

The Knicks (a Manhattan-based, paid basketball squad) rely heavily on shots from far away that count for three points, three-pointers if you will, as well as chucked-up bombs from New Jersey native J.R. Smith. Smith may or may not close his eyes before he wings the orange sphere towards the cylinder. They also give opponents a heavy dose of Brooklyn-born Carmelo from Redhook, whose ability to score anywhere on the floor is the bee's knees. The Knickerbocker's are known to sprinkle in some high screen-and-rolls, too, arguably the most basic play in all of basketball plays.

Here's how it works: One player, usually a point-guard, (but in the modern NBA anything goes) bounces a ball into the floor while he waits for a bigger guy to get in the way of a guy wearing a different color tank top whose job it is to try and stop him from doing great stuff. Then, the player still pounding the leather thing into the court either drives hard to the rack, hoping to score, or passes the rock (slang for basketball) to the guy who was getting in the way a second ago. This guy is now headed to the hole himself. Complicated, but true.

The Celtics (a Boston-based, paid basketball group of men) put a strong emphasis on defensive stops, so that they can own the transition game. They also prefer mid-range jump shots preceded by penetration from their two best wing players, Rajon Rondo and Paul Pierce. Sometimes, this works, but other times the Celtics lack of offensive diversity leads them to get smoked by talentless hacks like Larry Frank's Pistons (a Detroit-based basketball franchise).

Whatever happens tonight, this much we know for certain: Grown men will box each other out. Millions will watch while consuming alcohol. Lord knows I'll have a pinot noir or two. 

One Game We Won't Watch Tonight: Orlando Magic vs. Toronto Raptors

Not to brag, but Andrew and I went to the Raptors-Nets game the other day in Brooklyn at Barclays Center (don't say the "The," they don't like it when you say "The Barclays Center"). It was the best day of our lives. I learned that Landry Fields makes a living playing guard for the Raptors now. Complicated, but true.

Anyway, nobody loves Big Baby Davis more than me, but I'll be watching the All-Star reserve announcements instead of taking this one in. So sue me if I would rather listen to Charles breakdown who got snubbed or whatever. It's a free country. Obama told me two days ago. 

Sick Priest Learns To Last Forever

I left the first Barclays Nets-Knicks game at halftime.