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.

Larry Frank's London Adventure

With the New York Knicks and the Detroit Pistons facing off in London, England today, we can only imagine the sort of trouble Pistons Head Coach Larry Frank must be have gotten himself into during his team's European field trip. To celebrate the historic trip for Frank, we do our best to hypothesize the zany adventures the Teaneck, NJ native has embarked on since arriving on foreign soil.

Riding the Tube - Having spent much of his life in the New York metro area, it's safe to assume that Coach Frank knows a thing or two about public transit. So you better believe that he was all about London's famous subway system. Frank obviously forced his players to ride just for the sake of riding during one of their afternoons off, vigorously pointing out the differences between the MTA and the Tube during the exhausting four-hour ordeal.

Visiting Big Ben - A coach must instill in his players the importance of punctuality. Frank absolutely gave a heartfelt speech about how "80 percent of life is showing up on time" on the team bus, timing it perfectly so they would roll up into view of the famous clock just as he hit the climax of his speech. He also threw in some points about time management and a Ben Wallace joke, just to make sure he hit all his bases.

Tea and Scones with the Royal Family - A leader is a leader is a leader—at least that's what Coach Frank probably thinks. And what better way to learn about being in charge of other people then by talking turkey over white flour and caffeine with one of the more ambiguous monarchies on the planet.

Meet and Greet With Tottenham Hotspur - The London-based football club sports two Americans on their roster, Clint Dempsey and Brad Friedel, so for Frank, the opportunity for his guys to mingle with the local footballers was a no brainer. Athletes are athletes are athletes, he probably hammered to his team before the small talk about how much it rains in London commenced.

Messing Around With the Bobbies - It can't be all work and no play during Frank and Detriot's glorious trip.  Players were undoubtedly encouraged to fool around with the statue-like policemen of London and the best picture was awarded a prize to be named later. "What good is a trip like this without a few chuckles, right men?"  The prize is likely to be a free-throw session with coach Frank after practice one afternoon.

Who'd You Get?!: Kerry Kittles, Fleer Metal (1997)

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.

What Matt Barnes Is Up To (Volume 2): Ballin' So Hard

If you don't know who Matt Barnes is, well then, you better call somebody. Or just read our newest feature here at No Regard! It stars fan-favorite L.A. Clipper, Matt Kelly Barnes. We're gonna be keeping tabs on the swing man throughout the season to ensure that we're all in the loop on his activities on and off the court. Warning: He may surprise you with just how much of a renaissance man he is. 

Maybe you have been living on a rock in outer space this NBA Season and have not been privy to the extremely high level Barnes is playing at right now. If so, consider leaving said rock, you are missing a career year from MKB.

Is Matt Barnes the front runner for Sixth Man of the Year Award? Yes, yes he is, unequivocally. How about MVP? Definitely, he's definitely in said conversation.

Is Barnes likely to win finals MVP if the Clippers win the Championship? Certainly, no question about it. Will he capture titles during the Sprint NBA All-Star Celebrity Game, BBVA Rising Stars Challenge, Sears Shooting Stars, Taco Bell Skills Challenge, Foot Locker Three-Point Contest, Sprite Slam Dunk Contest and the NBA All-Star Game Presented By Kia? Easily.

Need more proof that Barnes is pretty ridiculous currently?

He just dropped 16 in a Clipper win over Memphis, without Chris Paul.

PSA: Make Sure You're Watching LeBron

This is a friendly reminder to watch LeBron James every chance you get. Whether it's a nationally televised game against the Thunder on Christmas day or a loss against the Wizards in December, watch LeBron James. Whether you can focus in on a whole game or just snag five minutes of the second quarter, watch LeBron James.

If you have a girlfriend or boyfriend or husband or wife who doesn't normally watch the NBA, make them watch LeBron James for a minute. If you have a son or daughter, make sure they watch LeBron James. If you're at a bar and there's a dumb football game or college basketball game on the television, ask them to turn on LeBron James.

Watch him because he's the best, maybe ever. Watch him because everything he does—everything—is breathtaking. Watch him because what else are you doing with your life, chief?

This won't last forever and it's important. Watch him.

Adam's Basketball Basement Tapes: Volume Two

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.

Haul number two took place around Christmas, and while there was a lot less Penny Hardaway memorabilia, there were still some real gems to be found. I'm not proud of all of them, but here they are, forever immortalized and ready to entertain you. These are a bit scattered through time, but I've marked what I know. Make sure to revisit Volume One, as there are some familiar faces. Bunny faces.

Artifact #1: Drawing of my favorite activity during my favorite time of day (May 1992, age 6)

I didn't give a shit about eating breakfast or reading with my dad. Afternoons were where it was at. I wasn't tired and I got to hoop it up with Martin and Garett on a 15-foot rim. What could be better than that?

Artifact #2: A really great drawing of the Charlotte Hornets mascot (circa 1995/1996, age 10-11)

This is just a really great drawing of the Charlotte Hornets mascot. Look out NBA rookies!

Artifact #3: A fake recap of a fake interview with Kevin Garnett (circa 1996/1997, age 11-12)

I, along with the NBA at large, have had a long, complicated history with Kevin Garnett. Around this time, when he and Stephon Marbury were leading the Timberwolves to their first playoff appearance, I thought they were the coolest thing that had ever happened to the world. This SLAM cover definitely hung on my wall. Of course, my honeymoon with KG would end after he would go on to prove that this was one of the dumbest sentences I've ever written: "He has had some severe criticism but never had an attitude." Whoops. Based on the nonsensical aspects of the second half of this piece, I'm guessing it was an assignment that involved using vocab words.

Artifact #4: A song lyric-referencing pledge of allegiance to my youthful Bulls fandom, and a tough pill to swallow today (circa 1992-1993, age 7-8)

Okay, guys. So I wasn't always a Knicks fan. In fact, during the height of my MJ-induced, Bulls-loving years as a frontrunning child, they were the enemy. There is shame here, but honesty. I wish I could say I've been a complete lifer, but I can't. Growing up during the early '90s made it tough to look past the red and black. Consider this my repentance. What can I say? People change, minds open, hearts find their proper paths. But, yes, I did use hip-hop lingo and reference Aretha Franklin and U2 (with misspellings) as a small child.

Artifact #5: A book report on a Penny Hardaway biography (April 1997, age 11)

You'll recall lots of love for Penny Hardaway from my last Basketball Basement Tape. I hope you didn't for a second think you had seen it all! This is a pretty straightforward book report of a biography by Bill Gutman, the same prolific author of the David Robinson bio I mentioned last time around. Even though I got an A+ on this, the dummy teacher didn't think "the reader" could recognize how good his high school stats were without some sort of comparative analogy. The dummy teacher got back on track on page two, though, where he recognized that this was a "great sentence": "[The fans in Orlando] would soon find out the 'Magic' that Penny possessed." See what I did there?

Artifact #6: A drawing of Bunny Penny's long-lost cousin, Tupac Shabunny (circa 1996-1997, age 11-12)

This isn't basketball-related, but it's obviously part of the continuing Bunny Period I began with Volume One's Bunny Penny. It's also obviously the most gangster shit you've ever seen in your life, so stop worrying about whether it's basketball-related and just enjoy it, geez!

NBA Middle Names: Earl Clark

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?

Earl Rashad Clark

This Post Is About A Bobcats Game I Watched In November, By Myself

The number of things that happen during one NBA season equals infinity. You won’t see most of them. (And thanks to Twitter, you don’t have to.) It’s fine that you don’t see a lot of them because a lot of them are Al Jefferson post moves and Kevin Love rebounds and Rodney Stuckey somethings. These are all worthwhile things to see, but also, if you miss them, you still know they happened. No big deal.

But then there are other events, ones that are rare and wonderful. They’re hidden deep in the forest, across the river, past the clearing, under the the hardened roots of two-hundred-year-old trees. They manifest as a shimmer that you ignore on first glance, but it leaves an itch in your mind. You need to scratch it so you look back, and there it is. It's remarkable only in how normal it looks on the surface, but at the center is a rich filling of gooey promise and important basketball. These are the psychedelic happenings that validate all the nights of predictable wins and middling performances. These games are what keep bringing us back, again and again and again (and again and again).

I watched a Charlotte Bobcats game this past November and wouldn't you know it? I am still thinking about the game right now, in January. On that lonely Saturday night, I uncovered this exact type of whirring treasure. It was a watershed moment. It involved a lot of Bismack Biombo blown rotations.

Early in the night, I was considering laying down a chunk of cash for League Pass. A Saturday night spent by myself seemed the perfect time to finally pay up and get to enjoy a full slate of games. But time and whiskey got the better of me and suddenly I was face to face with the vicious, drooling reality of a Bobcats-Mavericks game. Ok. Let's roll.

An hour later, Brendan Haywood is playing a significant role in my life and all I care about is Charlotte winning this game. The franchise had yet to beat Dallas, which just ain't right. When I watch Nets games (my team of choice), I use my hands. Put up three fingers when a long shot goes up. Pump a fist when necessary. Help the refs call a travel or possession. These are all involuntary when watching my Nets, but nonexistent when watching other teams—except for the Bobcats on this night. I love them. How much does a Kemba jersey cost? Haywire Haywood botches two chances in the paint to cut the lead to one, then gets immediate redemption by getting fouled on a lay-in. He misses, but then Kemba continues making his case for this being The Kemba Game and skies for the rebound. Someone misses and MKG gets the rebound, passes to Sessions who drives and scores and can you believe the wonder and joy and merriment the NBA affords us?

In overtime, Kemba refuses to use a Haywood screen because it would taint the majesty of Kemba’s night. Aesthetics matter to this man. He leads them—and me—to terrific victory. We did it. We all did it and everything is great.

Now I'm going to finish off blowing this game way out of proportion, but I do genuinely believe in everything I'm about to say. Does a win by a non-playoff team over another non-playoff team matter? Yes it does. As much as a playoff win or even championship? Sure, why not? In fact, I would argue that this game has to matter, or else we're all wasting our time. Great games with contending teams late in the season or in the playoffs are the minority. The bulk of the NBA season is made up of games like this, games that many people would classify as meaningless. But to make them matter, all you have to do is buy in and suspend your disbelief for a few hours. If you can do this, then every moment of the season that you do get to watch becomes worthwhile. And this is the secret to finding these rare moments of glory during the endless NBA season: Just make them matter. (I don't know what that book The Secret is, but I bet its central tenet is something like this.) That's why they play (and we watch) the games, no?

Emails From Pete: Once In A Lifetime

Hi. You know Pete, right? He wrote this. And this. Good guy. Great guy. Occasionally, Pete will bless the No Regard staff with an email of mythic levels. (Although as someone noted the other day, Pete is not concerned with levels.) Historically, they've been about what he ate for dinner the night before. From now on, we're going to share some of them with you so you can laugh with us, not at us. (C'mon, seriously, stop laughing at us.) The only backstory you need for this email is that it was sent to the nine of us who, with Pete, own Brooklyn Nets season tickets.

"Imagine what it would be like to get to see the greatest team in the history of basketball make their debut performance in Brooklyn, live, with your own two god-given eyes?!

Would you call it a New Years Miracle? A gift from our almighty Lord Jesus Christ of Nazareth? Or simply the best day of your life?

You guessed it folks, next Friday's Phoenix Suns tickets could be yours, easily yours, with the simple act of swapping with myself, Peter Dick Brownell.

Luis Scola ring any bells? Goran Dragic tickle any funny bones? Michael FUCKING Beasley fire up the pistons in your amygdala?

Do you realize this game has the chance to be the best game in NBA history? Could it go to 7 overtimes? Probably. Might Latrell Sprewell rush to court to finish what he started with P.J. Carls? More than likely.

What will you tell your great grand kids when they're watching the most epic sporting event in the history of humanity, and you had the opportunity to see it, up close and personal? Cry probably, you'll probably start bawling.

Don't make that mistake.

Contact me to trade. Just do it, Nike."