First, the Heat. Yes, the Miami Heat has (always sounds weird) disappeared in the 4^th quarter and overtime in consecutive games. Yes, LeBron has looked less than super in both outings. No, Dwyane Wade hasn’t looked much better. As a result, media outlets have begun to panic about the heralded team from South Beach. The Heat can’t win a title because they can’t close. LeBron James still disappears in big moments. It’s time to start worrying about Miami’s issues in the 4^th quarter. Blah blah blah. Settle down, everyone. Just settle down.

Please note; I am not a Heat fan, nor am I a LeBron fan, but didn’t this very same thing happen last season when Miami started the season hovering around .500? Eventually, the Heat advanced to the NBA Finals. Are we really doing this again? The season’s not a month old yet. Miami has played in only 11 games. More importantly, and this applies to every team, the Heat has (still weird) only had limited opportunities to prepare for the season and practice as a team due to the lockout. It’s going to take time for teams to hit their groove and figure out what works and what doesn’t, especially late in close games.

Do LeBron’s disappearing acts raise concerns? Yes and no. Against the Warriors, LeBron didn’t attempt a single field goal in the 4^th quarter and scored zero points. This shouldn’t come as too great a surprise. LeBron often relied on his teammates like this in Cleveland. He’s an equal opportunity teammate. He has all the gifts of an NBA superstar, but, for better or worse, he lacks a superstar’s mentality on the court. Who knows, maybe LeBron intentionally shied away to help his teammates build confidence for similar situations later in the season? It’s a stretch, but still a possibility. On the other hand, LeBron has proven he doesn’t excel in defining moments, so anytime he flops in the 4^th quarter of a close game is a little worrisome for Heat fans.

As for Miami’s performance against the Clippers on Wednesday night? Again, no need to panic. LeBron and Wade both had plenty of good looks in the 4^th quarter. They simply weren’t falling. James especially had a number of chances within six feet of the rim that wouldn’t fall. It happens. Poor officiating didn’t help matters, either. Still, it’s too early in the season for this level of panic, regardless of what ESPN wants you to believe.

As for Kobe Bryant and the Lakers, they have a familiar look. Welcome to the pre-Pau Gasol era. In my opinion, the media is 0-2 on these stories. On one side, the media is overreacting about the Heat falling apart. On the other, those same outlets are praising Kobe for carrying the Lakers. Absolutely, Kobe deserves credit. He’s the gutsiest superstar in the country right now and has been for the past decade. He plays hurt. He wins hurt. True baller.

Still, we’ve seen this version of Kobe and the Lakers before. The same media that wants to exploit Miami’s struggles ignores the proven issues that come along with Kobe scoring 40+ points every few games. History has shown that when Kobe is hoisting more than 25 shots per game, the Lakers aren’t title contenders. Even during his prime, when Kobe was by far the best player in the NBA, the Lakers were still a relatively easy out in the NBA playoffs. And yet, when you turn on your TV right now, Kobe and the Lakers are plastered everywhere as one of the league’s elite teams. Elite player? No question. Elite team? Questionable.

Similar to the Miami situation, it’s still early. It’s not fair to assume Kobe will continue to carry the Lakers at this level. After all, he knows all too well that titles aren’t won with him carrying the scoring load night in and night out. If this trend continues, though, and we’re unable to escape the – Kobe and the Lakers are back – hype, just remember how this story ends; a loss in the Western Conference Semifinals. Kobe + Kobe + Kobe doesn’t equal title number seven. Kobe + Gasol + Bynum + team equals a legitimate contender for title number seven.

I’ll admit, after the organization lowered the axe on its Donnie Darko-esque gangster rabbit, Hip Hop, last month, I was pretty stoked. Hip Hop was never appealing, never made sense, and always made me ask myself, “wait, have I been drugged?” The rabbit had run its course. It was time for the unpleasant creature and its enlarged muscles to be released back into nature or walked out back for the Old Yeller treatment.

While the team mascot doesn’t impact the product on the court, the removal of Hip Hop was a positive move for the franchise and its new ownership. Their initiative to remove the old and start afresh is commendable. After all, the Sixers have had a stigma of losing and incompetence for the better part of the past quarter century. Though I hoped the organization would go mascot-less, I, at the very least, expected a more sensible mascot that would tie in with the franchise and not make fans feel like they were in the bunny ghetto.

So he were are. Hip Hop is dead and the Sixers traded him for three sillier, equally head-scratching characters. None of whom make any sense. Take a look at the options yourself. A fat white dude. A dog. And a moose. Only the fat white dude is native to the city of Philadelphia.

Let’s start with him, the fat white dude, that is. Sure, Benjamin Franklin is an important historical figure to the city of Philadelphia. But let’s look at this from another perspective. The NBA is a league made up of mostly African American players. Its fan base is also heavily African American. The Sixers are on the verge of dumping a doo-rag-wearing rabbit for a fat, white politician. Maybe it’s just me, but the new mascot ploy seems aimed at making the Sixers more attractive to white folks. Sure, Hip Hop’s time had come and gone, but replacing him with Benjamin Franklin comes with a hidden agenda. I could be way off base with that assertion, but considering NBA Commissioner David Stern has done everything in his power to make the NBA less “ghetto,” I think it’s worth mentioning.

As for the dog and the moose? Why a dog and a moose? What ties does either animal have to the city of Brotherly Love? Am I’m missing something? If I were in charge and the Sixers told me there must be a mascot, I’d create something completely original, something that embodies the city of Philadelphia. Why not make the mascot a swamp rat covered in trash, harmful chemicals and dead bodies, and name him “Schuylkill”? Or, if the Sixers really wanted a fascinating character to dance around, wave his arms in the air, and tell the crowd to get excited without actually doing anything to help the team, well, then they should have given the job to DeSean Jackson. (ZING!)

And for the record, I don’t like any of the three options, but if I must choose, I’d go with the dog. Benjamin Franklin never played basketball. Air Bud did.

Thursday Night Pick

Browns at Steelers
Two years ago the Steelers were riding a four game losing streak and watching their playoff hopes circle the drain. A Thursday night matchup with the lowly Browns was supposed to turn the tide and put Pittsburgh back on track. Instead, the Browns bullied the Steelers for only their second win of the 2009 season behind Brady Quinn’s 90 passing yards. (Yes, that’s a true Story.) Do I expect a similar outcome tonight? Of course not. The game is in Pittsburgh, Quinn is holding Tim Tebow’s playbook in Denver, and the Steelers are fighting for home field advantage this time around. If you’re searching for a reason to tune in, I don’t have one. Sorry. STEELERS If I were Charles Barkley; Browns +14

As you’ll see, I tend to lean toward the player’s side. My cousin is a strong supporter of the owners. Any italicized text I added later and was not included in the original exchange. Also, my cousin knows significantly more about economics, politics, and labor unions than I, so if you’re undecided about the lockout, put more weight in his analysis. Regardless, I’m still right. Maybe. Hopefully. But probably not. Without further ado, here’s our exchange that was prompted after I blamed the owners for not recognizing who makes them money.

Barry: You need to get off the union’s nuts, man.  Do you understand the players have no risk?  They never take a loss nor do the economic conditions affect their salary. Owners have all the risk, and that is even true in the NFL where players also took a big cut.  The NBA isn’t even close to the NFL.  The owners should get more because they have all the risk. I’m not saying the owners are without blame, but I disagree with you.  Not to mention Billy Hunter is all about self-preservation, not the best interests of the players. It’s starting to show through, too.

Ryan: I hear what you’re saying and I agree with you to a certain degree. That’s why I argue for 52-48. The owners are getting plenty back and the players give up a decent chunk as well.

As for risk, that’s part of the money game. Find me a multi-billionaire that didn’t become a multi-billionaire without taking a risk or two. Jeffrey Lurie took a worthless Eagles franchise and turned it into one of sports most profitable organizations. Jerry Jones did the same in Dallas. High risk, high reward. That’s the game they play. When the owners are raking it in during the good times, players don’t get an extra share. Why then should the players have to give back a share when times get tough?

Also, the reason certain NBA franchises lose money is because they shouldn’t exist. That’s the owners’ and David Stern’s fault. Stern grew the league too big and refuses to admit his mistake by contracting. An NBA franchise already failed in Charlotte and yet Stern went back. Plus, owners are the ones giving out ridiculous contracts and overpaying guys like Gilbert Arenas and Elton Brand.

If someone came to you and offered you a salary 175% higher than you knew you were actually worth, would you say so and reject the offer? Or, would you shut up and take it? You’d take it. Players can’t be blamed for accepting outrageous contracts. That’s on the owners.

As for Hunter, I agree, he’s in self-preservation mode, but I support Hunter and the players rejecting anything less than 52-48. The NBA has returned to prominence because of its players, not the owners. Smart owners are profitable in all markets. It’s the dumb ones that lose money. [Ok, so this isn’t entirely true. Even some smart franchises struggle financially.]

Barry: I agree with you partially, but not with your premise that players shouln’td take a cut when times are tough.  That is how the world works. Look at the REAL world.  Government and private people are taking pay freezes and losing their jobs.  Why should the NBA be any different? I agree with the owners making dumb decisions but as I have said, you need to set up a product to be good.  You cant tell me that if NBA contracts were similar to the NFL, the NBA product wouldn’t be improved. Better players couldn’t get away with not giving effort like they do now.

As you said, owners built their teams and those organizations, not the players. Therefore, they should get much more of a reward, because they take ALL, AND I SAY AGAIN, ALL of the risk.  The players take none.

Ryan: I’ve never been comfortable comparing professional sports to the real world, but if you must do so, the players would be giving up 5% if a 52-48 arrangement were agreed upon. That 5% more than makes up for the owners’ “losses.” [I have no idea if this is true. I’m just angered that owners want players to surrender money because they (the owners) can’t figure out how to efficiently run a franchise. The whole concept is dumb. Imagine a car company ignoring a growing trend toward efficiency for ten years and then all of sudden begging for money when it realizes it’s broke and has nothing to offer customers. Wait, what? This actually happened?] Forgive me for not sympathizing with billionaires loosing money due to their own stupidity.

Also, I never said anything about NBA contracts. I’m fine with limiting the guaranteed years of contracts, but the root of the problem isn’t the guaranteed money, it’s the amount of guaranteed money owners were throwing around.

Plus, if there’s such a steep –“I’m teetering on the edge of bankruptcy”- risk to owning an NBA team, then why are there billionaires lining up to buy an NBA franchise? The Spurs make money. [Supposedly not the past three seasons, though. I say B.S.] The Jazz make money. [I think.] Both are small market teams that, coincidentally, are diligent with player contracts. Shocking.

[Obviously, the NBA Lockout isn’t ending anytime soon, so if you would like to voice your opinion, let us know. The more, the merrier.]

One after another, my brilliant boring ideas for midweek posts kept falling through. So, I emailed my brother and asked him what I should write about. The topics below were his recommendations. If you have something you’d like covered, send it along.

LSU/’Bama
I like college football. But I don’t love college football. Too many teams. Too many crappy games. Too many songs/chants/traditions to learn. You see, growing up in the Philadelphia area, college football isn’t that big of a deal. You like the Eagles, and that’s it. If you find time for a collegiate team, so be it. Good for you.

To be fair, college football can be fun and exhilarating, just not in the Big Ten. I went to a big time football school that rhymes with Ben Tate. While there, I still didn’t acquire a taste for collegiate football. Especially Big Ten football where the football is brutally boring (Michigan being the exception), and the uniforms are beyond dull (again, Michigan being the exception).

Obviously, I don’t have a favorite team. I’m a college football nomad. Last year I picked Auburn as my team after they knocked off Clemson in an exciting game early in September. (Front-runner? Yep.) This year, I chose Clemson because they looked decent and Brian Dawkins went there. I don’t know all that much about college football, but I know the “BCS Title” is a fancy way of saying “The best team from the SEC.”

What I’m trying to say is college football isn’t important to me. However, even a nonchalant fan like myself is intrigued by Saturday’s SEC showdown. It’s the biggest game of the year. I haven’t watched every game LSU and Alabama have played this year, but I’ve seen enough to pick a winner.

I’m picking LSU. I know Alabama’s defense is great and they’re at home and blah, blah, blah, but LSU and Les Miles have a weird knack for winning games they just shouldn’t be winning. Miles is the Charlie Manuel of college football. He’s goofy and a little strange, yet finds ways to get the most out of his players because they love him so much. Can I name more than seven players on either team? Nope. I’m just excited to be super excited about a college football game for the first time since I scalped my Ohio State – Penn State ticket for a large sum of money.

Philip Rivers needs a hug
I tabbed Philip Rivers my 2011 MVP over the summer. After eight weeks, he’s probably ranked 127^th in the MVP rankings. Needless to say, I was off. After fumbling away a win in front of a national audience on Monday Night Football last week, fans, news outlets, and talking heads have asked, “What’s wrong with Philip Rivers?”

Well, there’s really nothing wrong with Rivers, per say. His issue is the absence of Darren Sproles. Sproles, who left for New Orleans via free agency in the offseason, was Rivers’ security blanket. Especially on 3^rd downs, Rivers could always count on Sproles to juke his way to a 1^st down, or at the very least, bail Rivers out of a sack. With Sproles gone and Antonio Gates nursing what seems like a never-ending foot injury, Rivers is without his two most reliable targets. Vincent Jackson isn’t helping matters, either. After a shortened season in 2010 due to an extensive holdout, Jackson doesn’t look like the same player he was before 2010. He showed flashes when he tore through New England’s secondary in Week 2, but Jackson has done little since. Besides, every receiver has a field day against New England.

I’m not excusing Rivers’ play, because a quarterback like Rivers should still succeed with such a talented stable of players. However, if you took Wes Welker from Tom Brady, he would struggle to adjust as well. In fact, after the Patriots traded Deion Branch following the 2005 season, Tom Brady struggled to a certain degree with a subpar group of receivers in 2006. It led the Patriots to bring in Wes Welker and Randy Moss in 2007. Rivers’ receivers aren’t subpar at all, but Darren Sproles was Rivers’ Deion Branch.

NBA Lockout.
As the lockout drags on, I’m forced to either watch TV shows I don’t enjoy (Happy Endings) or be productive after my son crashes for the night. I’d prefer a nice NBA matchup to productivity and certainly, lousy TV, so I’m a little bummed progress hasn’t been made toward ending the lockout. Plus, I’m a gigantic NBA fan. I can survive a little longer without it, but if I’m entering 2012 without a full slate of NBA action through February and March, you can bet I’ll be devastated.

I know what you’re thinking; college basketball is better anyway. Well, you see, it’s not. You’re wrong. I love college basketball, too. Big time conference battles on ESPN make fabulous TV and conference tournaments followed by the NCAA Tournament make up one of my favorite sports stretches of the year. But it’s not the NBA.

NBA teams don’t regularly shoot 30% and win. NBA players don’t panic down the stretch and hoist contested threes in a two point game with 24 seconds still on the clock (ok, Andre Iquodala might do this). NBA teams don’t play defense like an NFL safety, bogging down the game and forcing us to watch college kids shoot 45% from the charity stripe. So sue me if I prefer millionaire NBA players to thousandaire college athletes.

Also, let’s hope it doesn’t come to this, but if the NBA lockout wipes out the entire season, the 2012 Summer Olympics will be our first glance at NBA Superstars in over a year. How many players will want in on that team? Wait, how about this…

Let’s televise the Olympic tryouts. Full, 24/7 national television coverage of three to four weeks of tryouts open to any NBA or super-talented collegiate player. After a year without NBA basketball, I’d eat this up. Plus, the Olympics would be twice as exciting because we would all feel an extra connection to the team because it’d feel like we made it through tryouts with them. It’d be like Hardknocks: The 2012 Men’s Olympic Basketball Team. We’d pick our favorite underdogs and then get misty when they’re sent home just like we did with Danny Woodhead in 2010. It’d be fantastic. Well, not really, because it’d mean we didn’t have an NBA season, but it’d be a nice consolation.

Seriously, com’n David Stern. Stop being pig headed. Agree to 52-48 in favor of the players. You remember the players, right David? They’re the guys that put rear ends in the seats and make your TV deals so lucrative? Don’t cheat your workforce because your owners are as brilliant with their money as the US Government.

Baseball news
Philadelphia is all up in arms about whether or not to bring back Jimmy Rollins. Word on the street is the Phillies don’t really want him at the price it’d take to bring him back. Plus, age is a serious concern for this squad, so keeping Rollins wouldn’t make the Phillies any younger. It also doesn’t help that the Phillies have limited funds to improve a team in desperate need of an offensive makeover. Oh yeah, Cole Hamels is due for arbitration, too. Super. The Phillies are handcuffed to fading players with enormous contracts and a depleted farm system. Unless Ruben Amaro Jr. is a miracle worker, the Phillies are destined for the NL East basement in four years.

As for the World Series Champion Cardinals (yes, the team Charlie Manuel allowed into the playoffs), they’re without a manager. Tony LaRussa went John Elway on St. Louis and went home. I tend to believe LaRussa knew something about the Albert Pujols situation that we don’t. But even if LaRussa didn’t, why would Pujols want to come back and play for a team that could now flounder under a new manager? Obviously, the Cubs would be in a similar situation, only worse. That leaves the “Los Angeles Angels of a handful of other California cities” as Pujols’ most competitive suitor. Actually, never mind. This is about money, not winning. If the Cardinals pony up, he’ll stay put.

[Editor’s Note: First of all, I’m not an editor. I’m not even an English major. I use “Editor’s note” because it sounds nice and everyone else does it. Anyway…

4thanddone.com is a democracy. We welcome other voices from time to time. (I even have a NASCAR contributor who may one day share his racing insight.) Today we welcome my brother, Derek, an avid NBA fan who misses basketball so much he took time from his graduate studies to fix the NBA’s problems for them. How nice. He said I could comment on his points if I wanted, so, being the opinionated loudmouth that I am, I did. Enjoy. And thanks for your contribution, Derek.]

What do we love about football? Every team has a legitimate shot at making the playoffs. There’s always at least one team comes out of nowhere. In 2011, it’s been the Bills, Bengals, and 49ers. In 2010, the Chiefs and Buccaneers. In 2009, the Bengals and Cardinals. In the NFC South alone, there was a stretch where the last place team took first place the next year, while the first place team finished last. Football thrives on parity. Sure, the Patriots, Steelers, Ravens, Eagles, and a few others are almost always competing for the playoffs. They succeed because they have the best coaches and front office. But even so, how many of them have actually won a championship in the last six seasons? This is why football is so great. It’s why America nearly had a massive heart attack when the lockout continued into August.

The other major sports (hockey, basketball, baseball) aren’t on the NFL’s level. Their biggest problem is a lack of parity. And while there is a level of complexity, the root of the problem is simple: too many teams. The NHL, NBA, and MLB are watered down. There just isn’t enough talent to sustain them. College teams can thrive off one great player. A professional team cannot. Furthermore, the long seasons of the NHL, NBA, and MLB often eliminate the weakest teams by mid-season, making the final months, weeks, and days of the regular season mundane and anti-climatic. (The end to the 2011 baseball season being the exception.)

I bring all this up because it’s relevant to the current NBA lockout. The owners claim to be making little money (which isn’t exactly true) while the players claim to be making even less (which is true only because millions are less than billions). The reason owners keep losing money is because they keep failing franchises afloat, dish out inflated contracts, and pay for the WBNA (don’t get me started). The players are making less because the league’s superstars are underpaid (compared to other sports) while role players make too much. Cutting down the number of teams from 30 to 26 would solve a significant portion of the money issue. Here’s why.

First, it would direct more money to the players deserving of higher salaries. Gilbert Arenas owns one of the five highest salaries in the NBA. Arenas was paid the big bucks because he was the best player on a crappy team. Rashard Lewis, who also owns a top five contract, was extremely overvalued by the Orlando Magic. Lewis and Arenas aren’t comparable to LeBron James, Kobe Bryant, or Kevin Durant, and yet they got paid superstar money because both Washington and Orlando made unbelievably stupid decisions. Take away four teams, and players like Arenas and Lewis earn salaries more in line with their production. They’re not alone, though. Other second tier players with salaries in the top 30 include Joe Johnson, Elton Brand, Al Jefferson, Baron Davis, Andre Iguodala, and Carlos Boozer. How much money would be saved if these guys received contracts equivalent with their talent? Instead, most were rewarded with bloated salaries because they were the best player on a bad team. Cut the number of teams, and overpaying mediocre talent becomes less of an issue (assuming owners do their part in evaluating the talent). This would leave more room for superstars to earn the money they deserve while also keeping other contracts relatively equal across the board.

[Editor’s Note: I disagree. This is the same situation we’re in now, only with four fewer teams. Small market franchises and/or habitual losing franchises will still overpay for average talent in hopes of staying relevant. Cutting teams will help owners overall, but it will have minimal impact on player salaries, especially when it comes to overpaying. The only solution is for owners to stop being morons.]

Second, owners will make more money because they’ll sell more tickets. I love the NBA. Going to an NBA game is enjoyable, especially when you can get good seats. The problem is, nobody wants to pay money to see the Raptors play the Cavaliers. Plus, fans of good teams find better things to do when their talented teams play the Raptors or the Cavaliers. Watching a 100-70 blowout isn’t a lot of fun. Basketball is at its best when games are close and decided in the final seconds. Knocking off four teams will increase competition and eliminate the watered down level of play due to over expansion.

For example, let’s toss the Raptors (they have no history or fans), Timberwolves (nobody cares), Cavaliers (LeBron killed them), and Wizards. Then, we’ll throw someone like Memphis or New Orleans into the East to keep the 13-13 balance. As a result, players like Love, Rubio, Beasley, Bargnani, Calderon, Barbosa, Jamison, Verajao, Irving, McGee, Wall, and Lewis are no longer the best players on bad teams. If those twelve guys were given to the twelve worst teams at random, you’d instantly improve nearly half the league. Plus, with those twelve teams improved, it’d be harder to find a game on the calendar fans would shy away from. Home and road crowds will pay to watch Kevin Love running with Jrue Holliday, Thaddues Young, and Co. in Philadelphia (sorry to tease you Sixer fans), or John Wall helping the Clippers back to the playoffs. Sellouts would become a frequent reality instead of a distant dream.

[Editor’s Note: Amen. Contraction is necessary. However, I’d cut Charlotte, New Orleans and Sacramento instead of Cleveland, Minnesota, and Washington.]

Finally, the fans win because the regular season would more resemble the competitiveness of the playoffs. The season won’t be decided by the All-Star break. The stupid trades where teams dump quality players on already great teams to save cash (see Paul Gasol) would be mostly obsolete because ludicrous contracts wouldn’t be as widespread. Like the NFL, nearly every team would have a fighter’s chance at the playoffs. In addition to full arenas, TV rights and broadcast advertising revenue would increase with the league’s popularity. At the very least, cutting four teams would make more regular season games watchable. And the playoffs would benefit, too. Instead of 12 competent teams and four crappy Eastern Conference teams who got in by default, the playoffs would be an ultra competitive 16 team race for the Larry O’Brien Trophy.

Obviously, contraction isn’t going to solve all the NBA’s problems. It’s merely a catalyst to a final solution. What we really need is David Stern to swallow his “never lost a team” pride, the owners to see the writing on the wall, and the players to think about the future for once. It probably won’t happen, but a guy can dream, can’t he?

[Editor’s Note: If a more competitively balanced and captivating regular season is what you want, cutting four teams won’t be enough. The schedule should be trimmed from 82 games to 50. The NFL thrives because it’s not around long enough for casual fans to get bored. Die hard NBA fans watch from November through June, but casual fans ignore the NBA until after March Madness. Fewer games equal healthier players, more competitive games, and thus, more attention from the casual fan.]

Earlier this week I defended LeBron. I argued his Game 3 performance didn’t deserve the ridicule and harassment he received. Two days later, LeBron proved I’m an idiot. The naysayers were right. Surprisingly, I felt bad for LeBron.

As I watched him completely disappear (again) in the 4^th quarter of Game 5, I dreaded the beating he would take from newspapers, websites, blogs, radio, and TV. So the guy isn’t going to be Michael Jordan. Big deal. Leave him alone.

And then I remembered… this was LeBron’s doing. He wanted this.

The difference between LeBron and Isaiah Rider, Harold Miner, Penny Hardaway and any other young player labeled “The Next Jordan,” is that none of the latter arrogantly embraced the title. LeBron, in so many ways, did.

LeBron reveled in the idea he was the NBA’s savior and would one day wear the crown of “Best Ever.” He believed the Nike propaganda that, “We are all witnesses.” He referred to himself as “The King.” The man even had “The Chosen One” tattooed across his back. Last summer, LeBron spurned his hometown on national TV, casually spoke about winning seven titles as if the league would simply bow at his feet, and publicly blamed his teammates in Cleveland, saying they weren’t good enough to get where he wanted to go.

So yeah, don’t feel bad for the heat LeBron is taking. When you blame others for your failures, make a spectacle of your free agency as if you’re the greatest thing that could ever happen to a city, and allow the sports world to shower you with fame, money, and undeserved comparisons; well, you deserve whatever’s coming to you.

You deserve to be trashed for completely disappearing when your team needed you most. You deserve to be called “LeFraud” when you pass on nearly every opportunity in the 4^th quarter throughout the NBA Finals.

The truth is LeBron doesn’t go down swinging. Instead, he believes that, by not taking shots, he can’t be held as liable if/when his team fails. In other words, LeBron calls for a pinch hitter in the bottom of the 9^th when his team trails by one with two outs and a man on second. He wants nothing to do with the pressure of that moment.

But here’s the thing, LeBron. Jordan didn’t become great by standing in the corner. Kobe Bryant didn’t win 5 titles by letting Pau Gasol do the heavy lifting. Tim Duncan didn’t need Manu Ginobili or Tony Parker to dominate in the NBA Finals. No sir. Jordan, Kobe, and Duncan stood on the front line, hoisted their respective teams on their back, and led them to victory. Win or lose, you knew those three players would have a say.

Right now, the NBA Finals is being played out between Dirk Nowitzki and Dwyane Wade. LeBron James is merely a side show. As harsh as that may be, it’s the unavoidable truth. And feeling bad for LeBron is a waste of time. He craved the attention. He wanted to be the global icon. So far, he’s come up short in every way possible.

Theodore Roosevelt once said, “Speak softly and carry a big stick.”

LeBron James speaks haughtily and carries a twirler’s baton.

Following the Miami Heat’s victory in Game 3 of the 2011 NBA Finals, a journalist from CBS Sports (Gregg Doyel) bush-leagued LeBron at his post game press conference. Essentially, Doyel asked LeBron why he’d been shrinking in the 4^th quarter throughout the NBA Finals. To his credit, LeBron responded professionally, stating that, although he wasn’t scoring, he was contributing, especially on the defensive end. LeBron also offered Doyel this gem; “You should watch the film again and see what I did defensively. You’ll ask me a better question tomorrow.”

Doyel (obviously) didn’t change his story after the press conference. He proceeded to post a column titled; LeBron James: Story of an incredibly shrinking superstar. (Perhaps we need an “It Gets Better Project” for bullied youngsters like Doyel. But I digress.)

Doyel argued throughout his column that LeBron James is no superstar. That he’s consistently been a non-factor in the most crucial moments of the NBA Finals. That no superstar is just a defensive stopper. To some degree, Doyel is right. Michael Jordan got it done at both ends of the floor. So did Kobe Bryant, Tim Duncan, Bill Russell, and Kevin Garnett. But what Doyel forgets is that LeBron James is the reason the Miami Heat are in the NBA Finals to begin with.

How quickly we forget that LeBron manhandled the Boston Celtics, single-handedly slamming the door on Boston’s season with a 10-0 run of his own to close out Game 5. How quickly we forget that it was James, not Dwyane Wade, who terrorized Derrick Rose in the 4^th quarter AND consistently buried crucial jumpers throughout the Eastern Conference Finals. When the Heat needed a bucket, they got it from LeBron. Not Wade. How quickly we forget that LeBron is dealing with more scrutiny, backlash, and blatant hatred than Wade and Chris Bosh combined, yet still should have won the NBA’s MVP award. How quickly we forget LeBron battled through a regular season in which he couldn’t close out a game to save his life only to become the best, cold-blooded closer in the 2011 NBA Playoffs. Dirk Nowitzki included. And how quickly we forget that LeBron did everything he was supposed to in Game 3.

That’s right. As I sat and watched Game 3, I was genuinely surprised at what I saw: LeBron completely deferred to Wade. In Game 2, even though Wade was lights out, LeBron forced his shot as Dallas made its run. As we all know, the Mavericks eventually won.

Fast forward to Sunday night. LeBron resisted trying to take over the game. He knew it wasn’t his time. It was Wade’s. Wade was rolling. He was the player to ride. So, LeBron did everything he could to facilitate and ensure the ball went through Wade. How does that make him any less of a star? Would we chastise Kobe for getting the ball down low to Pau Gasol or accuse Paul Pierce of shrinking because he consistently found Ray Allen open in the corner? Hello!? Isn’t this what basketball is all about?

LeBron can’t win. It’s as simple as that. You want to talk about shrinking in the 4^th quarter? Let’s start with NBA darlings Kevin Durant and Derrick Rose. I don’t see anyone knocking down doors to antagonize them at their post game press conferences. Rose was downright awful in the Eastern Conference Finals, ESPECIALLY when it mattered most. Kevin Durant wasn’t much better. But did he get lambasted for hoisting awful threes and ignoring the offense at times? No sir. Russell Westbrook took the heat. Is anyone accusing Dirk of shrinking after he literally threw Game 3 away and then missed the game-tying shot? No. Doing so would be foolish. Why then is it acceptable to drag LeBron through the mud when he did exactly what any coach would want from his player in a similar situation?

Like I said, I don’t really like LeBron, but I refuse to wrongfully criticize his play simply because I disagree with his persona and the way he carries himself. LeBron has been amazing in the playoffs. He, Dirk, and Zach Randolph make up my top 3 (in some order) of the most dominate players of the 2011 NBA Playoffs.

While Wade has clearly emerged as the Heat’s best player in the NBA Finals, LeBron has emerged as the cynical media’s whipping boy. Great game, good game, bad game, win or lose; none of it matters. LeBron James will continually be called a fraud. A loser. A shrinking superstar.

And to that undue ridicule…

…We are all witnesses.

I had to watch it a few times before completely processing what had happened. The Miami Heat, ok, Dwyane Wade and LeBron James, were up 15 with seven minutes to play. Then, in the snap of a finger, Dirk Nowitzki and his Mavericks walked off the floor victorious.

What!?

There’s an old saying, “Pride cometh before the fall.” In this case, “collapse” would be more appropriate.

After burying a corner three to stretch Miami’s lead to 15, Wade stood directly in front of the Dallas bench with his arm extended for a solid five seconds. Wade didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. His pose spoke volumes. It’s over. Go home. You can’t stop this.

Unfortunately for Mr. Wade, if he’d have remained in that same spot with his right arm extended high over his head for the remainder of the game, no one would have noticed. Wade finished 0-3 for 0 points after that shot. In fact, all of Miami’s Big Three checked out a little early last night, finishing a combined 0-9 with one turnover and only 2 points in the final seven minutes.

Maybe the Heat didn’t see the Oklahoma City series where Dallas erased a 15 point deficit with less than six minutes remaining. Or, perhaps the Heat didn’t believe Nowitzki was capable of dominating a game and carrying his team. Or, maybe, just maybe, Miami got ahead themselves and believed the series was over. Whatever they believed, the Heat was wrong. Dead wrong.

So what happened? How did the game turn so abruptly? Here are three defining moments that changed the game.

First, the Heat overreacted to Wade’s three. They thought it was the dagger to end the game. For all we know, it may have been if it weren’t for Wade’s showboating, which apparently shook Dallas from its comatose state. I especially liked Jason Terry giving Wade an ear full while following him to midcourt. Those are the type of things that define a team. The Mavericks are a veteran group. Following that three, no one started shouting and passing blame, no one sulked. They all walked calmly back to the bench to regroup. Miami, on the other hand, hooped and hollered like they’d just beaten the Boston Celtics again. The Mavericks stayed the course. They focused, dug in defensively and kept grinding until they found their groove. Miami stopped working, stopped running its offense, and lost focus.

This is where Miami can really get burned in this series. As great as Wade and LeBron are, neither is a leader. I know we see Wade stand in the circle before tip-off and rally his guys, but let’s be honest. That’s one of the most uncomfortable, awkward pre-game huddles I’ve ever seen. Wade looks nervous and uncomfortable. His teammates look uncomfortable. Even I feel uncomfortable watching. Wade wants to be a leader but leading comes naturally. You can’t force it. Unfortunately, there’s no veteran on Miami to rally the troops and settle them down. Juwan Howard doesn’t have enough clout. The same is true for James Jones and Big Z. Chris Bosh and LeBron are good teammates but not leaders. That leaves the coach. Eric Spoelstra hasn’t been here before. He doesn’t have that calming presence like one of the NBA’s premiere coaches. Obviously, Pat Riley would never join the bench or sit close enough to undermine Spoelstra, but that’s exactly what Miami needed last night. Someone to calm the team, tell them everything was going to be fine, and guide them to victory. Instead, Spoelstra panicked, LeBron and Wade were frustrated, and collectively, the team looked like they just saw Roseanne naked.

Dallas, on the other hand, was composed. The coach was relaxed, the players knew what needed to be done, and most importantly, no one panicked. Not a single player. Not even Mark Cuban sitting behind the bench. The lesson: Keep your wits.

Second, LeBron and Wade transitioned into hero mode over the final minutes. Instead of moving the ball and running the offense, Miami’s superstars forced bad shots. In fact, the Heat struggled down the stretch just as they had throughout the regular season in tight games. So really, we shouldn’t be surprised. In fact, the Heat offense late in games hasn’t changed in the playoffs. The only difference is Wade and LeBron (mostly LeBron) have been nailing those tough shots in big moments. Naturally, we all assumed the Heat figured out how to close tight games when in reality the only difference was Wade and LeBron hitting shots. Last night those shots didn’t fall. As a result, the offense struggled and the ball became stagnant.

What’s funny about the NBA is it’s not always that difficult to force superstars to take bad shots. They want to take the big shot, after all. Proof: Outside of Wade and LeBron, Miami players took four shots after Wade’s corner three. Instead of finding open teammates, the Heat’s superstars forced hero shots and hit zero of them.

Third, Nowitzki knows what to do with the ball in a decisive situation. Unlike Wade and LeBron, who kept hoisting 25 foot fade-aways and off balanced jumpers, Dirk continued to get to his spots and waited patiently for the shot HE WANTED. If the shot didn’t come, he found Jason Terry or Jason Kidd. The offense ran through Nowtizki. It didn’t stop with him. There’s a big difference. In the closing minutes, when the ball reaches Wade or LeBron, the possession is usually over for the other four players on the court. Michael Jordan didn’t win until he learned to trust his teammates. While LeBron trusted his teammates in Cleveland, he clearly doesn’t trust them in Miami yet, and I’m convinced Wade is of the Kobe ilk. Essentially, if we need a big shot, I’m taking it, no one else.

Dirk is obviously Dallas’ crunch time guy. He handled that role perfectly on the game winning possession. How many times, in both the NBA playoffs and NCAA Tournament, did we see players settle for jump shots with a chance to tie or take the lead in the final seconds? I don’t know. I lost count. But it’s asinine. Dirk didn’t settle, not even for his money, one-footed-turn around fade-away jumper. Instead, he faced up Bosh, made a move, and drove to the rim for an easy, game-winning layup. This just in, it’s easier to score from 3 feet than 19.

Dallas’ win in Game 2 felt similar to Game 3 of the 2006 NBA Finals, only the roles were reversed. Dallas never recovered in 2006. Neither did the Thunder in this year’s Western Conference Finals. Is Miami destined for a similar fate? I doubt it. It’s too early in the series. And as shocking and devastating as the Mavericks comeback was, it was still just one win.

However, Game 2 cost the Miami Heat its swagger. Their momentum is now gone. They’ll start from scratch again on Sunday night. Whether or not, and how quickly, they shake the nightmare of Game 2 will determine how far they go in this series. We know this much, at least: Dallas isn’t going anywhere.

To be fair, both Dallas and Miami deserve to be the last two standing. Although I feel no love for either team, I expect a fantastic series. After all, it’s not often the two best players in the postseason meet with the title on the line. Hopefully, we’re in for a long, tightly contested series… at least until the referees take over as they did in 2006.

I’ll start by offering my explanation for disliking both teams. As you may know, I’ve always had a soft place in my heart for the San Antonio Spurs. San Antonio and Dallas have been vicious rivals for the better part of a decade. Seeing Mark Cuban happy about his basketball team brings me great pain. I’ve also never been a fan of Jason Terry, JJ Barea gives me the creeps, and Dallas is also where the Cowboys play. As for Dirk Nowitzki, I like him more now than I ever did before, mostly because I respect his undeniable talent. Still, seeing Cuban, Dirk, and the rest of the yuppies in Big D celebrate a title would ruin what has been a wonderful NBA season. But even that wouldn’t be as awful as the Heat winning.

I despise Miami. Everything about the Heat is wrong; the narcissism, the fake, fair-weather fans, the self pity. Even their endless showboating makes me wish I hated the NBA. I haven’t decided if the Heat is/are (seriously, that’s annoying), really this good or simply the product of the dominos falling at the perfect time. (Boston trading Perkins and battling devastating injuries, Orlando’s midseason garage sale, Chicago’s inexperience, the Sixers needing two superstars. Ok, that last one was a joke.) Regardless, Miami is here and they have the best player playing the best basketball at the most important time. Kudos to them.

So that’s how I feel. It’s not rational. It’s not justified, and it’s hardly educated. But I’m a fan. I can choose to be as ignorant as I want. Now let’s assess each team’s advantages. We’ll start with the underdog.

Dallas Mavericks

Advantage: Depth.
The Heat has the superstar trio but little else. The Mavericks have a strong core that goes at least eight players deep. I know what you’re thinking; Isn’t that what we all thought about the Celtics and Bulls? Yes, but take another look. Boston had no depth. Delonte West and Big Baby Davis were Boston’s bench. Big Baby went M.I.A. in MIA, so really, West was it for Boston. Add the nagging injuries of the O’Neal’s and Rondo’s horrific dislocation to the lack of depth, and it’s clear why Boston went out without much fight.
The Bulls, on the other hand, had plenty of depth but lacked experience. Taj Gibson disappeared after Game 1, Kurt Thomas was left stranded on the bench until it was too late. Kyle Korver was horribly off the entire series and Carlos Boozer proved you can consistently disappear in big moments throughout your NBA career and still be considered a star. Let’s review; Boston wasn’t deep, the Bulls lacked experience, and Carlos Boozer stinks.
Conversely, the Mavericks have proven commodities at every position. I’ve never seen Jason Kidd overwhelmed on the court. Jason Terry still rises to the moment. Maybe not as often, but he still does it. Shawn Marion is either on an illegal substance or rededicated himself in Dallas. JJ Barea has “little man’s syndrome,” – regardless of the stage and opponent, he thinks he’s unstoppable, and I must say, he’s been right more often than not. I could go on and on. You get the point.

Advantage: Interior toughness.
Make sure to set your DVRs because we may see Brendan Haywood’s most significant (and arguably first) contribution of his NBA career. Haywood, along with Tyson Chandler, gives Dallas the physical presence and toughness to defend the rim and keep LeBron James and Dwyane Wade from easy buckets. Neither Boston nor Chicago could deter either player from attacking the rim. Boston was too old and small without Perkins. The Bulls were too soft with Joakim Noah on the bench and Boozer cowering in the corner. Dallas won’t have that problem. Chandler is an elite defender and athletic shot blocker. I’m also pretty sure Haywood believes he’s Bill Russell.
Don’t get me wrong, James and Wade will still get to the rim, but those points won’t come easy. By Games 3 and 4, they’ll certainly think twice before darting into the lane.
Also, DeShawn Stephenson is the league’s new Ron Artest. We just don’t know it yet. He’ll clothesline either James or Wade at some point. Maybe a head butt or drop-kick, too.

Advantage: Postgame “smooth.”
Seriously, is there another player in all of sports that looks as smooth as Dirk at the postgame table? In case you’ve never seen him in action, Nowitzki casually sits down for his post game press conference, grabs the microphone from its stand and leans back in his chair, and answers questions like he’s sitting on his couch at home. ESPN’s Marc Stein touched on this in the opening of his column today. Anyway, does this translate to anything tangible on the court? No. But it’s still awesome.

Advantage: Coaching.
If there’s anything we learned in the Conference Finals, it’s that young coaches don’t win playoff games. In fact, they lose them. Scotty Brooks and Tom Thibodeau were as flustered and discombobulated as their young superstars. Erik Spoelstra didn’t get exposed because Thibodeau was even greener than him. Now, Spoelstra must match wits with Rick Carlisle. Carlisle is one of the NBA’s most respected, accomplished, and underrated coaches. He won’t panic. He’ll make adjustments. And you can be sure he won’t be outcoached by Pat Riley’s lackey. Oops. A little bias slipped in there. Sorry.

Miami Heat

Advantage: Best Player. Best Closer.
As wonderfully as Dirk has played throughout the 2011 postseason, LeBron has been better. More importantly, LeBron has been lights out in the 4^th quarter. Unlike his early years, LeBron doesn’t push to control the game right from the tip. He allows his teammates to help carry the load. If someone else is feeling it, James becomes a facilitator, making sure the ball goes through the hot hand. Then, as the game’s most crucial moments present themselves, LeBron steps up. It’s been an amazing display. The cold-blooded threes to finish off the Celtics in Games 4 and 5 were, dare I say, Jordan-esque. By the close of the Chicago series, I expected James to hit any shot he took late in the 4^th quarter. Love him or hate him, LeBron made the leap over the past month from superstar to winner. He’s also clearly established himself as Miami’s alpha dog along the way.
Essentially, unless you’re winning by 12 points or more with less than two minutes remaining, you’re going to lose. Dirk has been amazing. LeBron has been unstoppable.

Advantage: Defense.
In nearly every game of the Eastern Conference Finals, the Bulls suddenly became offensively challenged in the 4^th quarter. While I chalk some of this up to squeezing grapes between butt cheeks, Miami’s defense still deserves the bulk of the credit. The Heat smothered Derrick Rose and dared the rest of the Bulls to hit open shots and make plays. I expect Miami to take the same approach with Nowitzki.
Aside from Dwight Howard, I don’t think there’s a player in the NBA that LeBron can’t lock down. Dirk could be the other exception if his fall-away, rainbow, “you can try, but you won’t stop it” signature shot is falling. We’ll see. Either way, winning a close game in the NBA Finals boils down to who get can stops. The Heat has proven they can get stops.

Advantage: Vanity.
What bothers me most about the Miami Heat is that everything seems staged and premeditated. I’m not talking about the games and I’m certainly not accusing the NBA of fixing the playoffs. I’m referring to Miami’s reactions and demeanor in certain moments, mainly, LeBron James’ and Dwyane Wade’s. Following Chicago’s loss in the Eastern Conference Finals, Joakim Noah called Miami, “Hollywood as Hell.” Unfortunately for the Bulls, this was Noah’s greatest contribution to the series. But he was totally right, nonetheless.
On a number of occasions, I’ve watched as the Heat prepares to leave the arena tunnel for the court. Every time, LeBron and Wade arrange themselves at the back of the line. They HAVE to be last. Watch for yourself, it never fails. You’d expect this out of a high school jock, but a professional athlete? Last I checked, winning was all that mattered, not who looks the coolest leaving the locker room.
Charles Barkley was dead on when he announced on TNT’s broadcast that James and Wade think they’re a whole lot more important than they really are. Like the Chuckster, 95% of us like to watch both of them play basketball. And that’s it. Save the charades and staged performances for your Moms.

Advantage: Mismatches.
Although Nowitzki and Barea will give Miami headaches, the Mavericks don’t match up well with LeBron or Wade. Sure, Stephenson is a solid defender, but he’s a little overrated. He effectively bullied Kevin Durant and could stay in front of an aging Kobe Bryant, but Wade is much stronger than Durant and quicker than Kobe. Likewise, LeBron is bigger, faster, stronger, and more explosive than anyone on Dallas’ roster (and the rest of the NBA for that matter). When in his prime, Shawn Marion may have been sufficient in containing LeBron, but those days are gone.
As I mentioned earlier, Dallas’ best defensive players are in the paint. However, Miami’s paint players have little offensive impact for the Heat. Even Chris Bosh prefers to play outside the paint, so the Mavericks’ advantage isn’t going to significantly disrupt Miami’s offense. As a result, and not to discredit Dallas’ defensive improvement, I think the Mavs will need to win this title on the offensive end.

While I fear LeBron’s time may have finally come, I refuse to pick Miami. If the Heat wins, everything I’ve believed about basketball collapses. Mavericks in six.

Fifteen years ago, in the momentum-swinging scene of the Sci-Fi classic, Independence Day, Jeff Goldblum’s character softly spoke the words that ultimately saved Earth from Alien annihilation, “I gave it a cold. I gave it a virus,” he said. That virus enabled humans to defeat the Aliens and fend off invasion. David (Goldblum’s character in the film), stole the Alien’s armor. The intimidation was gone. He stripped them of their mystique.

Sound familiar?

While his intent was certainly different, Boston GM Danny Ainge accomplished the same feat by trading Kendrick Perkins in a February deadline deal. Ainge unknowingly uploaded a virus that ultimately brought the powerful Celtics crumbling from within. Their toughness was gone along with their confidence. The continuity they spent 3 ½ years building vanished overnight. The team lost its identity and was badly beaten by both Chicago and Miami late in the season, eventually dropping from first to third in the conference. Most importantly, Boston’s enemies no longer feared them. Miami and Chicago’s artillery could now infiltrate Boston’s once impenetrable force field. It was open season on the Boston Celtics.

Tonight, the Celtics hope to fend off elimination against a Miami Heat team that holds more fear of Boston’s crowd than its players on the court. Dwyane Wade made it clear in Game 1 the Heat, not the Celtics, would set the tone for the series. Boston looked shell-shocked. The Celtics had punked a lot of teams in their four years together, but never had they been so blatantly pushed around, especially in the postseason.

Even as Wade pulled Rajon Rondo to the floor in Game 3, not one Celtic stepped to Wade. Intentional or not, Wade tackled the Celtics’ best chance of winning the series and no one thought to address the situation by getting in Wade’s grill. Shouting and screaming from the bench or across the court (as the Celtics did) doesn’t have the same impact as laying hands on someone. I’m not talking about punching or hitting him, either. That would have been foolish. But bump him, stare him in the face, shove him to the floor; do something. Instead, the Celtics stared blankly as Rondo writhed in pain. The bully became the bullied.

With no one to defend the rim from the high-flying LeBron James and Wade, the Celtics are left wondering what would have been had Perkins not been traded. He may be overrated and slow, but he’s tough and sticks his nose to anyone. Just ask Zach Randolph. The Celtics need that bravado, that irrational confidence to make James and Wade think twice before sailing to the rim. Perkins was the force field protecting the rim. He protected the Celtics. He made Kevin Garnett bolder and gave the team an aura that once intimidated opponents.

His departure cannot be understated. No, he wouldn’t help Boston offensively or even make closing tight games easier. But Perkins clearly meant more to the Celtics emotionally and spiritually than anyone originally thought. Without him, the Celtics are a shell of the team they were just three months ago.

They have a virus. Their force field is gone and opponents are firing at will, inflicting damage with each passing blow. As much as it kills me to admit, it’s only a matter of time before the mother ship comes crashing down. Hopefully, it’s not tonight.