Ever since the big Garnett trade went through I’ve been debating whether to throw up a KG appreciation, an assessment of the post-KG Wolves, or both. For the past 24 hours, any Garnett piece would have been a big, mushy valentine–it may still be, when I take a crack at it tomorrow or Friday. A look at the current status of the Wolves, however, is an exercise for the head instead of the heart, and has enough contrarian aspects to be worth the snap judgments, third-guessing, and speculation that comes from assessing, two months before training camp, a young, totally jumbled team that could and should still undergo significant personnel changes between now and opening day.
First of all, the next three or four years will either rescue or solidify Kevin McHale’s current reputation as a dreadful personnel guru. There’s plenty about McHale’s tenure to bash and ridicule, and I’ve done my share. But even if you discount the bad luck and woe stemming from the Googs and Marbury petty jealousies, the Joe Smith fiasco, the Malik Sealy death, and the Sammy and Spree snit (little of which had much to do with McHale’s lack of acumen, even the illegal Smith signing, which most Wolves insiders don’t lay at McHale’s feet), a fundamental problem with the Garnett-McHale tandem was their vast difference is philosophical styles. As a player and then GM, McHale sees the game almost totally through the prism of the painted area of the court. As he has said on numerous occasions, whoever wins the paint wins the game. The irony was that for many successful seasons, Minnesota’s style was defined by Flip Saunders and KG, who were about as paint-phobic as a plus-.500 coach and a seven-foot superstar could possibly be.
McHale constantly preaches that there are three ways to score in the paint: feed in to a capable low-post player, penetrate off the dribble, and grab offensive rebounds. Leaving aside the fact that McHale himself has rebutted that philosophy with dunderheaded moves, from Mark Blount on down, for the past three drafts and now with the KG trade, he is reinforcing that paint mantra with a vengeance. Al Jefferson is your classic low-block presence. Randy Foye, Rashad McCants, and Gerald Green are penetrators first and foremost. Craig Smith and Chris Richard are offensive glass cleaners first and foremost, and Corey Brewer will penetrate and crash the boards much more than your average swingman.
As a player, McHale ranks with Hakeem Olajuwon for possessing the best interior footwork in NBA history. His inability to instill much of that in a long succession of sub-mediocre Wolves’ big men is a mystery, but, speaking just about this particular facet of the game, he’s never had a diamond in the rough quite like Al Jefferson. Those who rag on Jefferson are foolish. Those, like ESPN commentator Stephen A. Smith (whose Native American name is most certainly Loud Flapping Jaw), who claim that Jefferson will suffer moving over to the more competitive Western Conference, didn’t do what one of my smart readers, Jason in San Francisco, did and break down Jefferson’s conference splits: Big Al was 15.9 ppg and 10.7 rpg in 41 games against Eastern Conference foes, and 16.3 ppg and 11.3 rpg in 28 games against the West. And because he is so low-post oriented, he already has a higher shooting percentage (51.3 for his career, 51.4 last year) and a greater share of offensive rebounds in his total boards than does Garnett.
But I’m making what will become an all-too-frequent mistakes over the next few years, which is comparing Jefferson and KG as if it is apples to apples. Not only will Jefferson never be as talented nor as versatile as Garnett (expecting otherwise does him a great disservice and belittles KG’s legacy here), he is a much different kind of player–one who happens to mesh perfectly with McHale’s preferred style of play. That, far more than his friendship with Ainge, is why McHale pursued the Boston trade (even more than Stoudamire in Phoenix, Horford via the Atlanta pick, or Bynum in LA).
Put simply, Jefferson is the new centerpiece of the Timberwolves. And while he will never be as valuable as Kevin Garnett, he’s nine years younger, with a very high upside, the best of a bevy of potentially gifted players who figure to grow together over the rest of this decade.
Alongside Jefferson, I would include Corey Brewer and Randy Foye, in that order, as automatic members of new core group of Timberwolves. Without having seen Brewer play a single NBA game (a summer league tilt over the internet doesn’t count), I am pretty sure he can play NBA-caliber defense and will bust his ass to refine his overall game, which already looks to have an upside along the lines of Bruce Bowen and Raja Bell, provided he can sink that trey a little more often. Foye will probably suffer more than any Timberwolf from KG’s absence, but has a load of confidence and a season of experience at the point to help him through the rough patches. He isn’t afraid to take–and will often make–the big shot. Furthermore, Brewer and Foye are both relatively selfless, high-character guys, which figures to be a very important aspect of the new McHale-Wittman regime. Let’s hope so, anyway. In case anyone missed the huge, blinking, neon memo, the Wolves are full and total rebuilding mode, and emphasizing character and synergistic compatibility over large but selfish talent is the only sensible way to grow. And that should help make a few potentially controversial moves a lot easier to execute.
Like, at the very least, breaking up the cancerous Ricky Davis-Mark Blount tandem–or, better yet, sending them both to another Western Conference rival. Blount, Davis and Justin Reed formed a toxic little ex-Celtics clique on the sidelines and in the locker room last season, and the since-departed Reed was finished a distant third as the main complainer-conniver-malingerer jerk of the trio. Not to put too fine a point on it, I’d renounce the rights to Mark Blount if you can’t swing the Blount for Adonal Foyle trade other smart readers here have proposed. Blount is the antithesis of the new-direction Wolves: He’s old, expensive, treats the paint like kryptonite at both ends of the floor, and has shown a pronounced tendency to lie down like a dog when the mood suits him–like, say, the 10 weeks after the all star break last season. Even if he had a dramatic change of heart and performed with the inspiration and flashes of talent (nailing jumpers and showing hard on the pick and roll) that occurred during the first half of last season, he’s a permanently bad fit robbing minutes from younger, systematically more compatible teammates. And if you played him the 5-15 minutes a game he’d otherwise merit, his attitude would either become a huge distraction and/or expose Wittman’s tough guy stance of rank hypocrisy. How many more games are you going to win in 2007-08 with Blount on roster? More games than the lessons and lasting example of his presence this year will help you lose in 2009-10?
Davis is a thornier dilemma. First, with Garnett gone, ball-movement decision-making becomes the most pressing of the team’s many flaws; in my opinion it also happens to be the strongest aspect of Davis’s game. Add in that Davis can realistically (though still inaccurately) regard himself as a team leader this upcoming season, that he is playing for a new contract, and that his plethora of skills besides ball movement will be less redundant with KG gone, and you can see how he might be convinced to become a positive force, to the point where I shed a crocodile tear or two when he is inevitably unloaded at mid-season or when his deal expires at the end of the year.
On the flip side, Davis could raze this ballclub more thoroughly and effectively than anyone but Jefferson (if Big Al decides he doesn’t like Minnesota, this franchise is in for a mess of hurt and apathy). Ricky’s history with the Wolves and elsewhere is that defensively he plays when he feels like it. Rotation-wise, he pouts whenever he has to sit. And when it comes to acting out, he’s not exactly passive-aggressive, as that ersatz bathroom break during the Lakers game that probably cost Dwane Casey his job attests. I’ve heard from a number of back-channel sources on the Wolves and in the media that Casey couldn’t stand coaching Davis. And anyone remotely paying attention has seen the blatant inconsistencies in effort during the 110 games or so he’s logged with the Wolves. Others might also raise the misguided triple-double mistake he made early in his career, which I regard as stupid but not as damning as his Jekyll and Hyde defense, which is just tantalizingly solid enough to generate sufficient trust to do real damage when he betrays the faith.
Both Davis and Blount reportedly were not high on Jefferson’s favorites list when all were in Boston, which, frankly, speaks well of Jefferson’s character and judgment. If it comes to a pissing on turf match between the Bobbsey Twins and Big Al, may the younger man prevail. Ditto the potential clash between Davis and Rashad McCants, who ostensibly will be competing for playing time with Pretty Ricky and has his own contract extension to consider.
Right now, McCants is the biggest wild card in the Wolves’s future. If he can combine the offensive game he flexed in the final six weeks of his rookie season with the generosity of spirit and defensive commitment he displayed throughout last season on both the sidelines (while recovering from microfracture surgery) and on the court, he could be a stud who joins Jefferson, Brewer and Foye as building blocks to the playoffs. If he starts hogging the ball, spacing out on defensive rotations, clapping his hands for the rock out on the perimeter and generally favoring the “born to be hated” side of tattooed duality, then he will forever be unremembered or lamented as a poor man’s JR Rider.
The Davis-McCants conundrum gets to a literally larger and more crowded personnel issue facing the new-look Timberwolves between now and opening day: Assuming Brewer gets at least 30 minutes a night as one of your swingmen, how are the rest of the minutes divvied up in the cattle call for the other swingman spot? Are Wittman and McHale arrogant and perhaps foolish enough to think that Davis and McCants can productively co-exist, let alone florish, for even half a season? Remember, McCants venerated KG. If he’s going to suck up the enormous psychological blow of Garnett’s absence, he’s going to need the oxygen of a regular and fairly sustained stint on the court, at least 25-30 minutes a game. Does anyone think Davis can be appeased with less than 35 minutes a game (about four minutes less than he averaged last year) on a non-KG team? And we haven’t even started talking about Trenton Hassell, Gerald Green, or, if he isn’t flipped back to point guard, Marko Jaric.
Obviously, I think hard decisions need to be made about Davis and McCants before opening day. Wittman has to tell Davis that big minutes are not guaranteed, that defensive consistency and offensive ball movement matter most, that if he is in the top three on the team in minutes he should be the team’s assist leader, the second best perimeter defender behind Brewer, and a stalwart presence in the locker room–let the points come when they come. Oh, and no shots with more than 20 seconds on the clock and no leaking out for cheap layups that more frequently produce cheap putbacks for the opposition. If and when Davis bucks the discipline, he needs to fill the Troy Hudson memorial seat at the end of the bench and not move for about a week. At the same time, Wittman needs to inform McCants that for the first three or four months of the season, his patience and perseverance are being auditioned as much as his talent; that Davis will be going via a trade before spring and that he should use the time to hone his game and be able to step in as the full-fledged two-way dynamo he is capable of becoming.
Or, if the Wolves are really sold on McCants, peddle Davis before the season starts and begin the trial by fire with Foye at the point. Or, deal both Davis and McCants for help at point guard and center and let Marko Jaric be Foye’s ball-movement savvy backcourt mate. I’d mention Trenton Hassell, but I think the dust-up between Hassell and Wittman last season, plus the redundancy of Hassell with Brewer and the attractiveness of Hassell’s on-ball defense to a few potential contenders, combine to almost guarantee that he’ll be gone before the opening tap. There are no shortage of decisions to make, and they’re as important as leaving the blocks cleanly during a long relay race.
For example, what about Ryan Gomes? Yeah, he was a “throw-in” on the KG trade at the last minute, and only makes $770,000 on a contract due to expire at the end of the year. He also is built like the proverbial brick shithouse–6-7, 250 pounds–is a high character guy, and started 60 games for the Celts while logging 2275 minutes, which would have put him 4th on the Wolves last year behind only KG, Davis and Blount, and ahead of Foye, James, Hassell, Jaric, etc. The guy is a curious ‘tweener along the lines of Justin Reed, only much, much better, with more beef and a hair less quickness. He’ll turn 25 on September 1, and is another reason why Trenton Hassell is going to get the short straw when it comes to assembling this roster. I couldn’t begin to tell you where Gomes will fit in, but he was very popular in Boston, which suddenly has a very exciting team in need of some glue guys, so I suggest that if the Wolves plan on keeping him when his contract expires after this year, that the seduction process begin soon and include a nice niche in the substitution rotation.
I also don’t have a clue as to how the Wolves maximize a front line that, aside from Jefferson, locker room stalwart Juwon Howard (who needs to be kept in the mix), and the hopefully departed Blount, is comprised of a trio of undersized grinders in Craig Smith, Mark Madsen, and Chris Richard. I think Richard is better than D-league material; that Smith will continue to improve (if only because half of those unfair blocking fouls he was whistled for will be ruled charges); and that for all the guffaws about Madsen’s amateurish appearance, the guys helps more often than he hurts when thrown in for short 5-10 minute bursts.
The bottom line on all of this is that the last three drafts and the KG trade have generated a whole bunch of really interesting pieces with which to jigsaw together a basketball team, including some draft picks and some salary cap space. It will be up to the front office, specifically Wittman, McHale, Taylor and Hoiberg, to combine these pieces in a way that creates synergy instead of chaos. I understand the cynicism toward McHale and Wittman, whose recent track records inspire opprobrium. When former Strib beat writer Steve Aschburner asked me for a projected win count during a preseason exhibition game last year, my honest but wide-berthed answer was they’d win between 28 and 40 games and miss the playoffs. A year later, two months before training camp, I’d lower those parameters to between 15 and 30 wins. But I already feel better about this team than I did about last year’s. There is young talent here; can it be meshed and molded properly? That’s a more enticing prospect to watch unfold–whether the answer is yes or no–than watching the poignant frustrations pile up for an aging superstar compelled to endure the inconsistencies of his overpaid, underachieving teammates.
I know this post is becoming a novel, but one last thing. Just as bashing McHale and Wittman before they’ve had a chance to glisten or besmirch their clean slate serves no purpose beyond primal therapy, lamenting the delay in trading Garnett is, for me at least, 20/20 hindsight. Should the Wolves have pounced on the offer of Luol Deng, Tyson Chandler, and the #2 pick from Chicago a year ago? Yeah, it looks like it. But I see no dishonor in Glen Taylor trying to make it work for as long as possible–and at least a year longer than he should have–in deference to his loyal superstar. This is where Kevin McHale earns our scorn, in the time between the Sammy and Spree revolt and last week’s blockbuster concession to the reality that KG’s time in Minnesota was destined for a bad and sad denoument.
I started this thing by saying that, post-trade, McHale has a chance to rebut or reinforce negative perceptions. The same is true of Garnett, albeit in much more favorable circumstances. All that talk about not stepping up and never having quality teammates are off the table beginning this season in Boston. It is a near optimal situation for the three Celtic stars, who all became accustomed to carrying their respective teams these last few years. None have ever had a teammate as good as one–let alone both–of the others. It is like toiling by yourself in the fields and suddenly being assisted by two quality workers; it gives you far more energy and inspiration than if the three of you had all started working together. I expect to see the Celts, at minimum, in the Eastern Conference finals. I expect to see the Wolves flounder for at least a year or two, but can’t help but notice the dim light at the end of a long tunnel. Just desserts, all around.
This is perhaps not an appropriate time to talk fashion, but here goes: First off, I noticed the fall “trend report” was recently posted at 
Described as a “multi-media, poly-racial-gender exquisite corpse of poetry, performance, and artistic experimentation,” Segrelicious has quite a tall order to fill, which might even be possible, given Shoebox proprietor Sean Smuda’s polymorphous involvement with dance, poetry, photography, iron sculpture, and even improvisational music. Each artist was directed to make work in response to a piece from another artist. On August 4 from 6-9 p.m., in both the Obsidian Arts and Shoebox Gallery spaces, the visual-arts part of the show opens. For the Soul Food gathering on August 25, bring a dish, a drink, and a story or talent to share that afternoon; a physical and intellectual potluck will unroll throughout the Roberts Shoes building at Lake and Chicago. Segrelicious performances begin at 8 p.m. Call it a bohemian rhapsody … — by Ann Klefstad
Orin Rutchick, Kristine Heykants, Angela Strassheim, and Mickey Smith now show the fruits of the past year’s labors as winners of the 
If the three-minute preview we saw in late June (as part of the Fringe For All sneak peek) was a representative sample, this will be a show that typifies fringey humor — you know, jocular and yet acerbic, delivered with wit and plenty of pop-culture references. Last year, the North Dakota show’s originators, Curt Lund and Laura Bidgood, had a Fringe hit on their hands with the hilarious comedy, Two Queers and a Chubby. This time around, the NoDak natives take aim at a different, but no less susceptible target: their unglamorous home state. They’ve cooked up a script woven with childhood memories and droll observations, making light of everything from North Dakota’s plummeting population to its lack of celebrity exports. — by Christy DeSmith
If the prospect of staging Jules Verne’s adventure novel seems at all daunting, consider, then, the restraints of the Fringe: All shows must wrap within sixty minutes. Yet if anyone can accomplish this feat, it’s Hardcover Theater, a Minneapolis-based company that routinely transforms novels, short stories, and even poetry into entertaining nights of theater. In adapting Verne’s whirlwind account of a trans-global voyage by boat and train (set in 1873, mind you), Hardcover has turned the expedition into sport. With the cast literally racing to beat the clock — stopping in Egypt, India, Hong Kong, and the American Wild West — this is a serious contender for fastest-paced show at the Fringe. — by Christy DeSmith
One of our favorite local freelance directors, Jon Ferguson, directs a company of six teenage performers and theater-makers (from Stages Theatre Company) in the creation and performance of this original play. So far, Ferguson’s Fringe Fest track-record is unblemished; his past hits include the 2005’s Please Don’t Blow Up Mr. Boban and 2006’s Kill The Robot. In the case of Deep Boy, the scenario, roughly, involves a high school-sponsored summer camping trip attended by a mix of over- and decidedly under-achievers. The kicker is this: The kids’ return to nature is led by a bully of a teacher, one whose favored tactics include intimidation and belittlement. This is fertile territory for the imagination, and Ferguson is well suited to coax every last drop of poetry from his teenage charges. — by Christy DeSmith
Still finding the Fringe calendar a bit overwhelming? Feel like supporting the local theater scene, but don’t want to risk boredom or disappointement? For the last two years, with its productions of Inspector Rex and Deviled Eggs, the Four Humors Theater Company has provided (comic) relief to the wary Fringe playgoer. The troupe’s latest creation, Bards, sets Christopher Marlowe as a lead spy for the Queen in Victorian England. And who does he enlist for a dangerous mission? None other than William Shakespeare. Hilarity is sure to ensue. — by Max Ross
This weekend, Jamaican author 