The 2009 NBA Finals: A Dream Matchup Awaits

Three weeks ago, Sidney Crosby and Alex Ovechkin squared off in a classic seven-game series that Gary Bettman could have only dreamt about before the playoffs.

The NHL’s two best players brought much-needed mainstream attention to the sport, highlighting what has been an excellent season for the league.

The only thing missing was higher stakes, as Bettman surely would have preferred the series to have taken place in the Stanley Cup Finals. But for now, as each player skates in the Eastern Conference, Bettman’s desire for Crosby and Ovechkin to compete against one another for a championship remains an impossibility.

For David Stern, on the other hand, this wish is becoming reality.

As the NBA’s Conference Finals approach their respective conclusions, a variety of enticing NBA Finals remain in play. Any mix-and-match among the remaining teams’ stars produces a marketable matchup that any true basketball fan can enjoy.

If you’re interested in a contrast of playing styles, a Denver-Orlando battle includes the best pure scorer in the NBA, Carmelo Anthony, against the game’s best young big man, Dwight Howard.

It might not be the series you’d select with your first choice, but after getting over the initial disappointment, fans would be delighted by the quality of play provided by these two teams.
Denver-Orlando is a solid ‘consolation prize’ for NBA fans.

Or, how about witnessing the first playoff series between Anthony and Lebron James, the same two players who were expected to recreate the Magic Johnson-Larry Bird rivalry upon their selections from the same 2003 draft class?

Sure, fellow Class of ’03 graduate Dwyane Wade beat ‘Melo and Lebron to the punch by winning the 2006 Championship, but he did so without getting past Melo or Lebron (as well as with the help of Shaquille O’Neal).

A Denver-Cleveland Finals would be the first playoff series pitting two of the three young stars against one another, potentially sparking a decade of Sugar Ray Leonard/Marvin Hagler/Tommy Hearns-like playoff series' amongst the trio. For what’s left in Kobe Bryant’s prime, he can play Roberto Duran in the analogy.

But there’s only one encounter that can approximate the NBA’s edition of Crosby-Ovechkin.
Each of the previous series remains second-fiddle to the one fans have been waiting for since 2005—the two best scorers in the country finally getting a chance to go head-to-head for all the marbles.

On one side is the explosive jump shooter with a propensity to score in bunches. On the other, is the bearded 6’9’’ scorer with the multi-faceted offensive game.

They are two men who have continually been compared to one another—by fans and the media alike—since their respective ascensions to the top. A showdown in the NBA Finals, five years in the making, would be a fitting culmination.

Which is why, with each team one win away from the NBA Championship, David Stern needs a Los Angeles Lakers-Orlando Magic NBA Finals. What better way to finally settle the Adam Morrison vs. J.J. Redick debate than a seven game series on the world’s greatest stage?



We have been deprived of this matchup for too long. Now is the time to finally make it happen!

Sure, both players choked in college, leaving the media and rural-America without the Duke-Gonzaga NCAA Championship Game that each so desperately longed for. But America is the home of redemption.

And nothing would scream ‘redemption for the coverage given to the two most hyped college basketball players of the decade’ more than watching Redick and Morrison cheer their NBA teammates to a championship, while actual NBA-talented players compete on the court.

Forget those puppet commercials; this would truly be amazing.

(What? You mean there’s a different series you expected me to pull for? Nah, couldn't be.)

The Birth of a...Dare I Say...Witness?!?

Greatness is truly rare. It is the rarity that makes the term so special.

I know this sounds obvious, but let it sink in for a second.

How easily do we toss a word like “great” around? Such an immense compliment should be reserved for only the most prestigious food, people, skills, accomplishments, etc, yet the word “great” gets used in description routinely.

Most of us will go a lifetime without being great at a single thing; I certainly will. I’m not knocking myself but being realistic. Anything I do well, a large portion of the world can do better.

The world is filled with many people who are extra ordinary and few who are extraordinary.

And this is what makes the extraordinary, remarkable.

It’s not easy for a “LeBron James-hater” to reflect on greatness one day after LeBron’s thrilling last-second winner against Orlando. But LeBron’s shot was symbolic of much more than a change in Game 2’s outcome. The Shot could usher in the King’s Era.

LeBron will undoubtedly monopolize the NBA Championship during his prime. I’m resigned to this fact. However, his surreal performance during the 2009 Playoffs has not only accelerated the process, but also eased the atrocity that I once associated with LeBron’s inevitable reign.

Don’t get me wrong. The man is still a clown; a New York City-Swagger Jacker from the Midwest in the truest sense of the phrase. And much of his game would be illegal by NFL standards—I’ve actually seen Justin Tuck get penalized 15 yards for throwing offensive linemen to the floor in emulation of what LeBron does on his way to the basket.

Plus, I’d be shocked if he hasn’t spent some time with Jose Canseco over the last few years. If he had Allen Iverson’s attitude, he’d have been sitting in front of Congress with Roger Clemens by now.

But if his buffoonery is what I must put up with in exchange for the exceptionally dominant performances by a once-in-a-lifetime talent, it is an exchange I may have to consider. I love sports too much to blindly dismiss what he is accomplishing. Best of all-time is actually in play here. Think about that: of all time.

So I ask… Am I a Witness?

I’ve tried not to be. I root for Carmelo. I root for Kobe. I take pride in finding pictures like this:

where LeBron looks like a genetically-jacked up combination of Barry Bonds, Tank Johnson, and Hulk Hogan, just six years after looking, er, normal.

But it is becoming clearer that those, like myself, uninterested in rejoicing in the LeBron era are simply wasting their energy. I have enjoyed going against the grain during LeBron’s ascension to the top of the sport, but I recognize that I am fighting a losing battle.

I came to a similar realization in 1998, when Michael Jordan eliminated the Reggie Miller-led Indiana Pacers that I was rooting for. I had been so sick of Jordan winning every season.

But following that series, I decided to stop hating, and finally appreciate the greatness that I was witnessing, albeit way too late (No pun intended).

But the sick part? Jordan was 34 years old, completing his final season. LeBron is 10 years younger (!), barely having reached his physical prime.

So again I ask…Am I a Witness?

Unfortunately, I think it’s safe to say that anyone paying attention to the NBA for the next 10 seasons has no choice but to be. The marketing campaign is right; we really are all witnesses.

But for now, I’ll be off hiding in Witness Protection as I wait for this reverse jinx to kick in.

I love this stadium baby but I can't see straight anymoreeeeee

About two years ago, my family moved into a new house.

I like the new house. It’s bigger, it’s nicer, and it’s in a better neighborhood. It’s an obvious upgrade in just about every physical way.

Friends of mine, who have been to both, would be hard-pressed to find even a single aspect of my new house that they liked better in the old one.

But after two years, there is an emotional attachment missing that I have been unable to develop.

Curious, I began thinking: What makes a house one’s home?

I pose this question one week after my first visit to the New Yankee Stadium. A ballpark so obnoxiously luxurious—there is an in-house butcher people!—but bereft of the qualities that made the old version so endearing to baseball fans. I loved the new place; but it just didn’t feel like Yankee Stadium.

And immediately, an analogy to my own home hit me.

Yes, objectively, the new place is better in every way. But it’s extremely difficult to overcome the memories I have of its predecessor.

I’ve witnessed too many classic games at the old stadium to replicate the same level of emotional investment with the new park—much like my feeling towards my two houses. It’s like a girlfriend. The longer you’ve spent with her, the harder the breakup is, and the more willing you might be to ‘stay friends’ with the next girl rather than delve into another relationship.

And even though I’m a Red Sox fan, last Monday I realized that I was more than just friends with the old Yankee Stadium. Shea Stadium and I? We were definitely just friends. Acquaintances even.

But that bitch from the Bronx?

Me and her had something. I’ll be honest. It’s sad to see her go. There was NOTHING like a big night game at Yankee Stadium. The bright lights, the electricity, the great New York City baseball crowd—everything about her was perfect.

Yea, she treated me like crap and kicked my ass more times than not, but I’ll miss that. In a masochistic way, it’s what made her special. I’ll never forget leaving her in tears on October 16, 2003, moments after Aaron Boone drilled a Tim Wakefield knuckleball into my section. I even promised I’d never visit her again after that.

But those heartbreaks and suicidal feelings are what made the triumphs so special. One of the greatest parts of the 2004 World Series run was that the Red Sox were able to overcome the ghosts that they succumbed to just twelve months earlier, on that same Yankee Stadium field. I’m convinced that that victory has had a major influence in the current role-reversal that this rivalry has taken.

And now, rather than the still frames of 55,000 lunatics singing New York, New York and taunting me as they celebrated Boone’s HR into the night while I remained crying in Main Box Section 30, Row G, my lasting memory of the old Yankee Stadium is a Red Sox’ right-fielder, J.D. Drew, winning the All-Star Game MVP. Whowouldathunkit?

There's a lesson in all of this somewhere. In order to appreciate the future, you must accept the past for what it is—the past. Memories are meant to be cherished and though they will never be replicated, you can not let nostalgia stand in the way of creating new memories. My new house IS my home. It is up to me to invigorate it as such.

And as the Yankees attempt to do the same with their new home, what will some of the initial memories of the $1.6 billion palace be?

How about Jason Bay hitting mammoth home runs and Jonathan Papelbon striking out Robinson Cano with bases loaded for the final out while I’m sipping a Johnny Rockets’ milkshake and chowing down a freshly-cut steak sandwich from the aforementioned in-house butcher, delivered to me by my section’s personal waiter.

You know what? On second thoughts, I think I can get used to this place after all.

Cadbury Creme Eggs and Ricky Hatton

When I was younger, there was a particular Cadbury Crème Egg commercial that aired around Easter time each year.

The premise was simple: The Cadbury bunny was the star of the holiday and every other animal was entrenched with envy. Naturally, each animal auditioned to become the Cadbury bunny. After adding a plastic set of bunny ears, every dog, cat, goat, bird, and pig tried to fool the audience into accepting them as the new Cadbury spokesman.

But when it is all said and done, what exactly is an animal with plastic bunny ears?

It is the exact same animal as it is without the bunny ears.

And Ricky Hatton, under the guise of a jabbing, defensive, Floyd Mayweather Sr.-trained prodigy, is the exact same Ricky Hatton he was in the past. The song didn't lie—there really is only one Ricky Hatton.

I was fooled by the bunny ears.

Result:
Manny Pacquiao KO Nick Xouris in six minutes and 59 seconds.

Look for the Hitman to Pull Off the Upset

Ricky Hatton has traveled this road before.

The Las Vegas megafight at MGM Grand, the 24/7 series, the bright lights of HBO PPV, the opponent universally regarded as the best pound-for-pound fighter in the world—the script for Saturday’s showdown with Manny Pacquiao is practically a replica of his fight against Floyd Mayweather Jr. in Dec. 2007.

The subtle differences between the two fights, however, will lead to one major difference: the outcome. Unlike 16 months ago, Hatton will leave Las Vegas victorious.

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Hatton-Pacquiao has become a tale of unsubstantiated mainstream perception.

Hatton is considered a loser for being stopped by a brilliantly placed check hook—arguably the most perfectly-executed punch I have ever seen—by one of the most talented boxers who ever lived.

Pacquaio, on the other hand, has been deemed this generation’s Henry Armstrong, a warrior capable of defeating all-comers at any weight, after blowout victories over an uninspiring David Diaz at 135 pounds and a completely washed up Oscar De La Hoya at 147 pounds.

For Hatton, the perception could not be farther from the truth. Though I had him significantly behind on points, Hatton’s swarming style kept Mayweather—a much larger, more talented opponent—uncomfortable for a substantial portion of the fight.

Mayweather needed his “A Game” to finally put Hatton away, something Pretty Boy Floyd very rarely has to do. That is a testament to the competitor Hatton is. There is no shame in a junior welterweight losing to the best welterweight alive.

For Pacquiao, the perception could be the truth—there just isn’t sufficient enough evidence to be sure. Despite his last two victories, Pacquiao has still not proven that he can beat a heavier, stronger world class opponent.

De La Hoya was a shell of his former self and Diaz was a champion in the sense of the word that just about everyone in today’s era of multiple weight classes and sanctioning bodies is a champion—Hatton would have disposed of both fighters in similar fashion.

That’s not to say Pacquiao is some slouch. His performances in both fights were remarkable. But each of the questions posed before the De La Hoya fight remain unanswered: Can Pacquiao withstand a naturally bigger fighter’s power? Can Pacquiao hurt a fighter who is used to taking punches from heavier-handed opponents? The answer has yet to be seen.

Yes, Pacquiao is the best pound-for-pound fighter in the world. The outcome of his war with Hatton should have no bearing on that status (though Mayweather’s return to the ring will). But pound-for-pound rankings do not guarantee victory against any lesser ranked opponent at any weight. They simply measure a fighter’s ability relative to his size.

For example, Max Kellerman, formerly of ESPN Radio, deems Nate Robinson the best player in the NBA, inch-for-inch. This isn’t to say that Robinson is better than Tim Duncan or capable of beating Kobe Bryant one on one, but that in Kellerman’s opinion, Robinson is better relative to his height than other players are relative to their own.

The criteria for these mythical rankings is entirely subjective and in many ways meaningless. Pacquiao may be better pound-for-pound, but this does not make him a shoo-in to defeat Hatton. Mayweather’s ability to do so has no bearing on this fight.

This time around, Hatton is the bigger boxer at his optimal weight. When the bell rings, it is conceivable that Hatton will enter the ring anywhere from 150 to 160 pounds. Unlike against De La Hoya, where Manny actually entered the ring as the heavier fighter, on Saturday night, Pacquiao will be lucky to weigh within 10 pounds of Hatton.

And more importantly, Pacquiao’s “A Game” is not Mayweather’s. He does not possess Mayweather’s size, power, or defense—he will likely get hit with more flush shots in rounds one and two than Mayweather was hit with all night. His style is much more conducive to getting hit, precisely the type of opponent that Hatton can bully and work inside against.

At the junior-welterweight limit, Hatton has never lost a fight. The preceding sentence will remain true when this fight is over.

They say there’s only one Ricky Hatton. Saturday night, that one Ricky Hatton will have only one more victory.

Prediction: Hatton KO11