The Inaugural Hoops Movie Draft (Part One)

Folks, when the guys at Free Darko have admitted it, it's true: We are officially mired in the dog days of summer. Minus the occasional playground tourney and the distant EuroBasket, summer marks the time when hoops heads are deprived of their daily dose of the round ball. Even I can only follow the White Chocolate Comeback Tour but for so long.

Because we writers love to be undercover innovators, I've devised a groundbreaking plan to break up the monotony, Fresh Prince style. To help out, I've tapped into the philosophic practice of one Johnathan Tillman. Some of you know him as the superstar behind the hoops blog Fundamentally Unsound (FU), and others from the "Searching For the Answer" guest masterpiece he dropped here at Points Off Turnovers. Anyway, I've decided to solicit his assistance in my plan to alleviate the doldrums of our hoop-less summer. Yup, it's time to bring out the big guns.

Without further ado, I'd like to welcome you to our inaugural Hoops Movie Draft! In a heated debate featuring disses, jokes, and references to Sidney Poitier and black actors who can ball, Tillman and I went head-to-head to pick our favorite basketball movies from the Hollywood lexicon. It's on like Donkey Kong in Melee. Enjoy.

Before we get started, here were the ground rules for the selection process:

1. No Docs: Yes, though it's tempting to select a hardwood classic like "Hoop Dreams" over an Enjoyably Bad Movie like "O" (I'll get to that concept later), it'd be impossible to whittle down the choices. Plus, I don't like making jokes about talented hoopers that bombed. I don't want to chance running into Arthur Agee in a dark corner of a Super Wal-Mart five years from now.
   
2. No "Hoosiers": This one kind of evolved during the initial phases of the draft. I mentioned it in my Senior Thesis PowerPoint and intimated as much in my "Basketball and the Black Aesthetic" series, but it's worth mentioning again: "Hoosiers" reeks of racism. I loathe watching the championship game scene, which showers praise on an all-white squad for their ability to defeat the menacing black miscreants from the opposite side of the state. (We can debate this more in the comments.)
   

Since I'm about treating my guests like family, Tillman's got first pick. This way, you can make fun of his picks before I get in the ring, you dig? I'm not sweating the pick. Luckily, in a movie draft that's got more blue-chip prospects than the '96 Draft, there's nothing to fear. I know I'll get a solid squad. Where you at, Till Show?

1. J-Till selects…Duane Martin, Tupac Shakur, and Leon in "Above the Rim."

This is a solid first overall pick. It's not Lebron or Tim Duncan, but it damn sure isn't Kwame brown either. Hoops fans already know the plot. Talented inner city youth (Duane Martin) must choose between the purity of college ball--with "purity" being tentatively used, especially given the current events--over his ties to Birdie (Tupac) and the streets. But to me, Leon as Shep steals the movie. Playing one-on-one against an imaginary person with no ball and smacking the backboard as a bucket? Then playing a blacktop game in loafers and slacks? Yeah...crazy. For some reason, most Black movies aren't Black movies unless Leon's in it (see: "The Five Heartbeats"). Also, bonus points for "Regulate" on the soundtrack. Where is Nate Dogg, anyway? He went from singing diss track hooks on "The Boondocks" to...? Apologies for the digression, I'm just really worried about his whereabouts. Ok, it was a joke, but so what? What's he gonna do? He wears Dob hats. Alright, I've stopped for good. Your move, Money Mike.

2. Mike selects…Wesley Snipes and Woody Harrelson in White Men Can't Jump.

Hollywood is a town of trends. Over the last 20 years, we've witnessed a 3-D renaissance, the glorification of Compton and West Coast Rap, the launch (and abuse) of CGI technology (thanks to "The Matrix"), as well as the gawd-awful Jennifer Lopez-era. However, one of my favorite en vogue movie trends was the Buddy Cop Era, a movement that took off with Eddie Murphy's epic feature film "Beverly Hills Cop" and chugs along faithfully to this day. The Buddy Cop blockbusters were cut from the same cloth: A socially inept but white guy teams up with a debonair and comical black guy to solve a mystery, foil a robbery, and end up forming a permanent friendship of mutual respect along the way. We had Enjoyably Bad classics like the Eddie Murphy/Nick Nolte collaboration "48 Hours", refined family comedies like "Lethal Weapon", and later…the blockbuster known affectionately by barbers everywhere as "That Movie With The Funny Karate Guy and That Dude From Friday" (Rush Hour).

In the same vein, "White Man Can't Jump" was basketball's tribute to the popular genre of the decade. Ron Shelton supplied us with our lovable loser (Billy), a straight-laced gym rat from the American Midwest looking to earn his keep by hustling black players who think him a chump because of his appearance. "Jump" gave us Wesley Snipes in his prime, fresh off "Mo' Better Blues" and years before he was forced to cop a jail cell with Mystical for tax evasion. Good times all around.

The only bad part of this movie? The incorporation of the Wet Blanket Girlfriend. In a career-altering role, Rosie Perez plays the role of the girlfriend (Gloria) whose mission is to make our hero miserable along his road to redemption. And Billy LOVES her, on that "Once I get some cash, I wanna marry YOU!" level. Crazy thing is, after he shamefully drags himself to Sidney's house to beg for his half of the loot back, and sinks an impossible shot to give her the opportunity to dominate on Jeopardy, she walks out of him when he fulfills the ONE obligation to his running buddy. Geez, can she be a little more supportive? She doesn't even have a job! What the heck has she contributed?
How much do you wanna bet Billy's first unscripted reaction was similar to that guy from the ADT Home Security Commercials? "Wait…she's GONE? YES!!! I'M FINALLY ABLE TO RELAX!!!!!!"

The lesson, as always: Girls of the world ain't nothing but trouble.

3. J-Till selects…Denzel and Ray Ray in He Got Game.

I'm Taking Shuttlesworth at #3. Not quite MJ at #3 back in '84, but it's at least Deron Williams at #3 in '05. While the main plot was good, it's the subtle nuances that make "He Got Game" a high-value selection. The prime example is, of course, the lovely Rosario Dawson, as "LaLa" (no, not this La La...shout-out to her though), a mischievous woman who tried to get Shuttlesworth to forego Big State U for pro dollars. The second intangible is the appearance by Rick Fox as the upperclassman that shows Shuttlesworth the college life. It's that he was talking about "hoes" and what not; it's that he was damn near 30 doing it.

But the third reason why I like "He Got Game" is that the legendary one-on-one scene between Denzel and Ray Allen is a real game. That means each one of Denzel's five points were unscripted; and the lines are partly written, partly ad-libbed. The story goes, Spike Lee had it written for Ray to win 11-0, but during filming, Denzel scored. Spike wanted to keep rolling to see where it goes, and the end result is that scene. Money Mike says that should've been Stephon Marbury as the lead instead of Ray-Ray; but given his current state and what he does now in front of cameras, it's probably for the best that he didn't get that role.

4. Mike selects…Nick Nolte and Shaq/Penny in Blue Chips.

Once upon a time, Shaquille O'Neal was fifty pounds lighter and played center for the Orlando Magic. Before he gave us Shaq Vs. and Kazaam, Shaq and his dynamic running buddy teamed up with Nolte were to provide us what with was supposed to be "an unflinching look at college basketball". Instead, it became a classic riddled with bad acting (cough, Penny!), ludicrous scenes, and unintentional comedy. Simply, the story examined the life of a corrupt college program through the lens of Coach Pete Bell, the leader who compromises his morality and institution for a chance to bring the famed Western University back to glory. Eventually, Coach Bell can no longer deal with his team's dirty laundry, leading him to blow the whistle in a riveting press conference which dually secures his termination and exorcises his inner demons. Cut and print.

But I didn't pick this movie for the plot. Let's be honest: We've been down this road before. For me, the rewatchability of "Blue Chips" comes from the absolutely ridiculous scenes. Like when Coach Bell embarrasses the top recruit (Ricky Roe) during his college visit for requesting a handout, but Roe instantly forgets and attends Western University after getting a tractor delivered to his house in the VERY NEXT SCENE???? Or when Penny gets homesick and wants to transfer but fears for his mom's job? (Vintage comedic scene.) Or when the entire coaching staff is reviewing last year's championship game and notice that the star point guard commits 25 turnovers. You read that correctly. Veinticinco. Are you kidding me? If your star PG turns the rock over 20+ times in a game, don't you HAVE to suspect something fishy? It's like Barry Bonds' head going cantaloupe on us during the home run race.

Sure, the acting is cringeworthy, the cameos (Calbert Cheaney & Bobby Hurley…NICE!) are priceless…but unintentional comedy is what puts this over the top. You're up, Tillman.

5. J-Till selects…Love & Basketball.

Never mind the hoops. What basketball-playing man wouldn't want to have the affections of Sanaa Lathan, only to leave her for Tyra Banks; and is STILL able to end up with Ms. Lathan in the end? I'm not sure if I'm more envious of this scenario or of the one Taye Diggs was blessed to have in "The Best Man." Nia Long...Nia Long. Wait, where was I? Oh, right, the actual movie. Every guy that hoops lives vicariously through Mike Tomlin's, uh, Omar Epps' character, "Q(uincy) McCall." I still hold out hope that I meet a female basketball player and we fall in love over a game to five. Double or nothing, indeed.

Don't sweat us…we'll be back with Part 2 of the draft in no time. When it's ready, we'll tell you to check it over at FU.

But until then, best keep your head on a swivel. Out.

The Monster Mash - The Madness Continues (Part 2)

Editor's Note: Because both of these teams decided to hang around for another round of the NCAA Tourney, let's run with J-Till's second contribution to the Monster Mash before this post becomes irrelevant. I was trying to wait up for the other contributions (you know who you are), but I can't chance either one of these teams going down in the meantime. Remember to check our Tillman's stylings at Fundamentally UnSound. It's all yours, Tillman-san...

Oh YEAH. Sorry to interrupt, but my Final Four picks are as such: Louisville, Memphis, Xavier, and Gonzaga. If you have a problem with that, COME SEE ME IN THE COMMENTS! Also, did anyone from Morgan State even bother to read my post about them from Monday? Geez. Todd Bozeman's guy almost killed a guy.

That's the last time the MEAC gets a #15 seed for a WHILE. At least it got the MEAC some negative press without Joseph Okoh's name in the byline. Yikes.

(I'm going to stop rambling now. Promise. J-Till, back to you...)

Zig-Zag-Zig

When I first started watching basketball with an analytical mind, it was around the time that Lute Olsen had the University of Arizona atop the college basketball mountain. I was particularly influenced by Jason Terry, because he is the influence behind me wearing the high socks and he has the same first and last initials…just like me. Today, he's still one of my favorite players to watch. I only give you that brief moment of nostalgia because looking back on me at that time; I understand now why I enjoyed watching them. To me, if there's one flaw in the spirit of college hoops is that it's so focused on making the coaches the stars. Instead of giving praise to the individual and the true ideal that players make coaches (see: Gillespie, Billy), they favor the false understanding that coaching is paramount. Arizona is one of the few schools that actually lets players be themselves and adjusts accordingly; instead of putting them in a box for the "greater good." It's the reason why they've churned out so many NBA and overseas players over the past decade or so; while other programs have enjoyed similar or greater success, yet have their best players be scrubs in the Association. Let me stop and take a rest break before this becomes a full-on rant about Coach K. Enjoy a random picture while I go calm down…

Okay, where was I? Oh, right. This year's U of A Wildcats. Sure, they underachieved for a good part of the season and down the stretch. And yeah, teams like Saint Mary's and Penn State have legit arguments about why they should be in over them. But if you look at it closely, you'll see that Arizona's better than both of those teams and have one of the ten most talented teams in the country. Chase Budinger has been a lottery pick at forward since he was a freshman, and big man Jordan Hill will go very high in next year's draft. Guard Nic Wise has filled in nicely at the point for a team that lost lottery pick Jerryd Bayless; and that #1 high school recruit Brandon Jennings jettisoned for the quick paycheck in Italy. The 'Cats underachieved so much that they squeaked in the tournament as a #12 seed, and have a first-round matchup against Utah (I see what you did there, NCAA Selection Committee). I look for Arizona to make a little ruckus and further destroy brackets around the globe.

On a lesser, still not-so-heralded plane, Mark Few has built a very sturdy program at Gonzaga. He has taken Lute Olsen's methodologies and tweaked them to get the higher-caliber West Cost players that the big schools (and certain coaches) pass upon. For example, I bet plenty of teams would love to have Stephen Gray and Austin Daye, 6'5" and 6'10" athletic scoring machines, respectively. They're like shorter and taller versions of Adam Morrison, only with more ability and less horrendous moustache. But the beauty of the 'Zags is that they don't have one guy with the ability to take over a game: they have five. Moving guard Matt Bouldin to the point has steadied the previously erratic Bulldogs' offense, and it allows Jeremy Pargo do the things that show that he's vastly better than his brother. Center Josh Heytvelt has his head on straight now, and with the addition of Kansas transfer and former HS All-American Micah Downs, and that's a starting five with tremendous size and length at their respective positions, coupled with outstanding shooting and scoring ability. Mark Few plays the uptempo style that gives his players the free reign to be themselves, and look to outscore their opponents at a frenetic pace.

Gonzaga, like Pitt, has been one of those teams that build bandwagon and true fans up to break them down with early tournament exits. If there's one hindrance to them is that they're not a physical as some of the elite teams and wouldn't stand up to 40 minutes of high-level defensive pressure. Plus, with all that talent they have, they were placed in the region with the team with the most talent, the team with the best player in the nation, and the team with all the momentum as higher seeds. A possible Sweet 16 duel with UNC is over the weekend's horizon, and that will probably be one the tourney's most entertaining games. This is where I see Gonzaga bowing out, but it won't be do to anything they could've avoided. It'll just be because North Carolina is better than them—their kindred spirit on the East Coast. The Tar Heels are like a sensei that has mastered the art of the uptempo game and teaching his pupil the Way of the Samurai, and the 'Zags haven't quite harnessed their full potential.

Peace.

"Real Recognize Real": J-Till's Search for "The Answer"

Before we get wrapped up in March's Madness, let's stop and indulge in Points Off Turnovers' first Guest Post, courtesy of the great Johnathan Tillman. J-Till's currently finishing up at the University of Maryland and serves as the creative force behind the blog Fundamentally UnSound. (Readers, you've definitely seen J-Till's rhetoric disseminated across various comment sections, and some of you have even dialogued with Tillman and myself ad nausea. But I digress...) J-Till's been writing his yin/yang series parallel to my Mo' Better Hoops thesis, and I encourage you to check more of this brother's writing. We've got some big collaborations in store for the Basketball Universe, but as J-Till would say..."Why spoil the surprise?" The man LOVES the game of basketball almost as much as I do (just kidding, perhaps MORE) and is one of those rare Knicks fans that lives outside of the state of New York (Maryland, to be exact). Hey, it's no problem...the more the merrier. (Haters, we'll see you in 2010...)

Today, sit back and enjoy this superpower's musings on the evolution of one Allen Iverson, a man whose swagger and personality continue to amaze even the most delusional "functional" basketball theorist. Even as his mystique begins to fade, one of A.I.'s more simple decisions (aka "THE HAIRCUT HEARD ROUND THE WORLD") continues to reverberate within the basketball underground. How can our hero, the patron saint of professional basketball's Hip-Hop Movement, remain relevant as his mortal body begins to deteriorate? J-Till gives us his "answer" after the random picture...

Searching for the Answer

Allen Iverson is my all-time favorite player. Yes, he’s ahead of His Airness himself. It’s not because I feel he’s a better player, because I don’t. Rather, it’s because he is the only player I’ve seen that has an untraceable style—a style that even perplexed MJ in his first personal view of it. For both supporters and detractors, AI is the assimilation of hip-hop into the Pros, in the way that the Fab Five was the same on the collegiate level. Hip-hop is rebellious in nature, and therefore seen by most of the mainstream as a fad that’s taking a little too long to pass. Because of this, the genre is somewhat seen for all its negatives (I’m looking at you, Stanky Legg song-makers), while the true artistry (probably NSFW) and creativity gets overshadowed but still appreciated by true heads. Allen Iverson is the same way. He is a Hall-of-Famer, but there’s a reluctance to accept him as an all-time great. For a good portion of people, he is the pioneer of what’s wrong with the game—from his isolation-based play to his braids and tattoos. But to the true heads, he is the very definition of Basketball: pure individualism equipped with a katana in each hand in the form of the crossover. With a supreme ability to render bigger defenders obsolete, and a gigantic willpower, AI is pound-for-pound the best scorer of the basketball in history. He carried a franchise for a decade, and helped another for a year and a half. Now, he has found true hardship in the latter stages of his career, and is forced to come to a decision within himself. I’ll explain after the random picture…

In Detroit, the Allen Iverson Project has failed—there’s no denying it. It’s becoming more evident now that he’s out with a back injury, and the Pistons have won five of those six games he’s missed; and Rip is flourishing. Iverson’s spontaneity doesn’t mix with Detroit’s rigidity through motion and screens. In short, The Answer is attempting to be that to a team that already finishes their offensive questions. This is the opening that AI’s naysayers have been looking for. Iverson in Motown exploits the one flaw in his game: it won’t lead to winning.


I apologize if this seems to be going all over the place, but this is the manifestation of the turmoil inside me whenever I examine my favorite player. Yes, he is amazing. Yes, he is a one-of-one talent. But his vision of Basketball won’t allow him to win, which is something he badly wants to do. Tony Kornheiser once said that, “if you close your eyes and listen to Allen Iverson, you hear Michael Jordan.” To me, that means that you sense the same determination that MJ had that led to his teams’ consistent winning. AI has that same drive, but has yet to find the equation that produces true team success. It pains me to see my all-time favorite player to look out of place on the court—for him to now be a journeyman in search of a ring as someone else’s missing piece. For a long time, I had gone to outside sources to find the solution. I’ve now discovered that The Answer is his own Answer.


With any transcendent talent, there must be the correct pieces around him in order for the chemistry to be Championship right. For example, Lebron needs standstill shooters and big rebounders for when he bulldozes to the basket. Magic just needed people to run and catch the end of his wizardry. At the height of his powers, AI still didn’t manage to get those complimentary guys essential to every superstar. Even that Sixers team that went to the Finals wasn’t the exact formula for AI. It just so happened that Iverson, with the aid of some stingy team defense, was able to fully tap into his inner abilities and be other worldly—sort of like what Dwyane Wade is doing now. It was then that I discovered that there is no correct formula for AI. It doesn’t exist.


I’m not suggesting that AI is a bad teammate as a person; but it is tough to coexist with him in Basketball. His vision is twisted by the Napoleon Complex, and fused with an unrelenting want to prove doubters wrong. Think of him as Gilbert Arenas with no conscience as a pure scorer instead of just taking jumpers. The result: one pissed off little man that can drop 50 but alienate the rest of his team just enough that they lose. Again, it’s not on purpose—it’s the way he was made. It’s not that he refuses to be Andre Miller or any other “pass-first” point guard that his body type would suggest; but rather that internally, it does not compute.


This brings me back to that decision that Iverson must make. AI has reached that point in his career in where he has to refine his game if he wants that elusive ring. Look at his yin/yang basketball soulmate Ray Allen. Jesus Shuttlesworth was coming off his best years in Seattle, yet had the presence of mind to sacrifice his personal talents for the sake of Championship glory. Allen Iverson, the Ultimate Rebel, must now rebel against his own teachings if he wants to win. He’s still capable of averaging 20-plus, and even in Detroit where he doesn’t fit, his point guard numbers are better than anyone not named Paul, Williams, Nash, or Harris. His talent, though slightly diminished, is still tremendous. He must now learn to be more cohesive and conjoin with another player’s formula, instead of having others blend into him. He must be someone else’s Answer.


Peace.