The Rake Magazine

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  • Star Trib Buy Out List

    A total of 24 Stribbers took the voluntary buy-out allowed under the present Guild contract. The names were released this morning. They are:

    Judy Arginteanu
    Bill Arthur
    Steve Aschburner
    Mike Carroll
    Bob Franklin
    Grethchen Gramenz
    Doug Halliday
    Jeremy Iggers
    Jocelina Joiner
    Tom Jones
    Jim Lundberg
    Bob Lutsey
    Ron Meador
    Richard Parker
    Darlene Prois
    John Reinan
    Pam Schmid
    Al Sicherman
    David Silk
    Derek Simmons
    Tom Simon
    Dane Smith
    Brad Stokman
    Margaret Zack

    In contrast to the abrupt, pre-holiday severings the Pioneer Press levelled on its’ employees last year, where the company also niggled over start dates to reduce the compensation to a few employees, the 24 Star Tribune people listed above will be paid an additional two weeks — until March 30 — in addition to their accrued compensation. Under the heading of “Thanking God for Small Favors”, its a small grace note.

    The final work day for all will be … Friday.

  • We didn't know who you were …

    Honest to God, I’m not going out tonight. Probably I’ll just go to the tile shop and pick out my new kitchen floor. (Stainless steel tiles, anyone? Boyfriend is installing…) But if I were going out, here’s what I’d consider: TV on the Radio at First Ave., (my friend Jerry Steller rather likes this band), Bruce Cockburn at the Cedar, oh and let’s not forget the ongoing Country Cabaret by Ballet of the Dolls.

    I promise to write something more substantive tomorrow since I’m planning to go do it up old-style just then.

    And there’s this other thing: I’m not sure what all to let slip since this involves very personal matters, but as of about 1 a.m. this morning, The Rake welcomed its first-ever baby into the family. We’re happy as all get out, and might even crack some champagne yet this morning. Hooray! And welcome to the world, Mister.

  • The Three-Pointer: Winning With Youth – What A Concept

    Game 6, Home Game 32: Minnesota 86, Indiana 81

    1. Nothing To Lose But A Reputation For Stupidity

    The Timberwolves story in Tuesday’s Star Tribune, entitled “Wittman still seeks right answer,” went into some detail about how the coach of this franchise had tried everything– “tweaked and re-tweaked the lineup, shuffled the rotation…called the team out and kept it behind the scenes… been upset and understanding” — and yet nothing had worked.

    But anyone who has been watching this ballclub with at least one eye open knew that there was one thing Wittman and his associates higher up the corporate ladder hadn’t tried. Not only that, but it was the most logical and unimpeachable thing they could have done in the wake of this team’s methodical meltdown and nonchalant ineptitude since the All Star break: Play the kids. More specifically, play current rookies Randy Foye and Craig Smith and last year’s top draft pick Rashad McCants together with superstar Kevin Garnett. Play them as long as possible, regardless of whether the squad was tied with 1:30 to play or down 40 midway through the third period. Let them discover a common rhythm, sift into roles, and, for all concerned, discover exactly what kind of clay there was to work with before it was too late for anything but recriminations.

    The three kids were certainly gushed over by the braintrust. In a suddenly pervasive “Blueprint for the Future” publicity blitz that seemed to coincide with a “never too early to renew your season tix for next year” ad blitz, there was invariably a prominent member of the front office expressing oh so much excitment about the talent and upside glory of Foye-Shaddy-Smith. But then the starting lineups would be announced, or we’d return to the game in progress, and who would we see hogging minutes but Troy Hudson, Mark Blount, Ricky Davis–rarely if ever mentioned in the Blueprint for the Future.

    Was the organization hypocritical, stupid, or involved in some sort of massive bait-and-switch? If there was a Blueprint for the Future and the Present Sucked Out Loud, what say we launch into the Blueprint post haste? And perhaps shouldn’t that be one of the possibilities for a “right answer” that poor Randy Wittman, at his wit’s end, might contemplate as a “tweak,” if not a “re-tweak”?

    Tonight, with the Wolves down a dozen midway through the third period at home to an opponent that had lost nine straight games, Wittman was still seeking. “We searched. I ain’t gonna lie to you, I was going to search even deeper,” he said after the game. But then he did something really sensible. He put Foye and McCants in the game at the same time, replacing Hudson and a stone cold (1-11 FG, 4 turnovers) Ricky Davis. Three minutes later, he subbed in Smith for Blount. He played the kids with KG, with Marko Jaric thrown in for good measure. This is an undersized but scrappy quintet that, to a man, take pride in their defense, something that most definitively cannot be said of Hudson-Davis-Blount. The Wolves spent most of their time in a zone, a defensive scheme that requires a fair amount of trust and communication and doesn’t make Garnett feel like he has to guard everybody. And for the final 15:32 of the game, those five stayed on the floor–“double or triple overtime, they weren’t coming out,” Wittman later claimed–and outscored the Indiana Pacers 35-21 en route to a 86-81 victory.

    Staunch defense has been a real rarity for the Wolves recently. After building a 20-16 record with a D that allowed 95.0 points per game, they have tumbled to 7-19 over the next 26 tilts while yielding 103.6 ppg, or nearly eight points more, while scoring an average of just two points more during those last 26. Tonight, through three quarters, even the decimated Pacers (missing Marquis Daniels as well as O’Neal) were shooting a respectable 45.8%. But with the kids plus KG plus Jaric, that plummeted to 20% in the crucial 4th quarter, in which the Pacers got only 14 points, all but one from point guard Jamaal Tinsley.

    Every single one of the five Wolves specifically mentioned defense in the locker room after the game. They talked about trust and communication and hustle and how good it felt. Even if this is really the start of a belated awakening, and the braintrust understands that planning for the future is simultaneously the best chance of producing a unified, dedicated effort that could extend the time in which the Wolves stay within sniffing distance of a playoff spot, there will be many ugly moments. Foye is out of position at the point, McCants is playing on a leg and a half, and Smith is woefully undersized. But defensive intensity and genuine goodwill among teammates can be enough to beat sub-mediocre teams and that’s what happened in the second half tonight. The new quintet was tickled by the novelty, and genuinely relieved that shroud draped over the entire squad as a result of its disappointments and putrid play, was being lifted, even as Indiana felt a tenth straight loss stalking their psyche.

    A lot of good things happened in those final 15 minutes, but what I won’t forget is consecutive offensive possessions early in the process, just after Indiana had taken its biggest lead at 46-60 and before Smith entered the game. There was a bit of confusion in the offense, bad spacing and unsure ball control near the very top of the key. McCants suddenly held the dribble, and had room for a long turnaround before the shot clock expired. Instead, he spotted Foye just a few steps away, but facing the hoop, and quickly dished to him as, almost in the same motion, Foye rose up and nailed the 25-foot trey. Less than 30 seconds later the Wolves were in transition, Foye dribbling with the ball at the top of the left lane when he suddenly zipped it up near the hoop, too line-drive oriented for a classic alley-oop, to McCants going hard to the hole from the opposite baseline. As McCants slamed it home, Indiana called timeout, their lead suddenly below double-digits, and a smiling McCants came over and briefly locked arms with Foye.

    2. The Steady HandsWhether they start together or arise as a duo off the bench, Foye and Marko Jaric are simply too complementary of each other’s strengths and weaknesses right now not to play together. Jaric has the fundamentals–he understands the floor game–but not the sublime confidence. When he’s feeling okay about his place in the cosmos, he has a nice intuitive feel about when to push the pace in transition and when to hold up; when to drive and dish and when to pick and roll. Yes, he spaces out on defense occasionally but more often he’s doing something smart, and his gambles generally carry decent odds of success. Foye needs to play with a backcourt mate that can dribble, defend, and provide positive role modeling, but not dominate, especially in terms of shooting, and especially not in crunchtime. Foye has the inner arrogance Jaric lacks.

    KG is obviously a boon to whatever teammates accompany him to the floor, but as I’ve said before, there is a genuine affection between him and McCants that helps McCants remain patient and within himself, a crucial ingredient in these trying times when McCants doesn’t have the pure athleticism that saw him through last year. Who would have thought even a year ago that McCants would be the crunchtime glue guy, the Hassell/Madsen type doing the little things, but there he was in the 4th quarter, taking only one of his team’s 20 shots but grabbing 5 of their 12 boards and committing three fouls to ensure the Pacers didn’t get anything easy–and Indiana shot 3-15 FG for the period. Foye had 9 points, Jaric 4 assists, Craig Smith jousted with Ike Diogu, and KG commanded all the attention. McCants, he was just there, a +18 in 28:52 of play of a five-point victory.

    3. On the FlyGarnett was 3-8 FG without a layup as the Wolves shot 39% and trailed 35-42 at halftime. In the first 5:23 of the 3rd period, before the kids came with the bailout, he hit four layups and scored all his team’s points to keep them in the game. At that point his three teammates other than Jaric–Blount, Davis and Huddy–were a combined 3-20 FG and showed no desire to compete.

    In what may become a regular feature as long as he is getting 10+ minutes a game, here is the Troy Hudson defensive dead weight measure for tonight: Indiana scored 28 points in the 12:23 Huddy played and 53 points in the 35:37 that he didn’t.

    The Wolves finally cut Eddie Griffin loose before the game. Asked to comment by a media member who spun the question as one less distraction bothering the Wolves, Wittman instead was sincerely sorry to see Griffin go, said he was a good kid at heart, and wished him the best down the road. It was a classy gesture.

    In keeping with yet another disturbing recent trend, Minnesota was -9 in rebounding, including an 11-25 disadvantage in the second and third periods. Yet Indiana had only 7 second-chance points (to 16 for the Wolves) and a measley 20 points in the paint (to Minnesota’s 30). Think they missed Jermaine O’Neal?

    Finally, Wittman allowed himself to think about being just a game out of the playoffs and going on a five-game road trip after losing 12 of their last 13 away from Target Center. Three of those games–at Golden State, the Lakers and Sacramento–are with teams involved in that scrum for the final three playoff spots. “This is a huge trip for us,” the coach said.

  • 2 Good 2 B forgotten

    Here’s an interesting music happening for the evening: Pop Wagner, who has been heard on PHC as well as the Morning Show (or, as I call it, “Grandma’s Jukebox”), is playing the Eagle’s Club with The Twin Cities Playboys. I still plan to spend my evening out of doors, though.

  • Notes Scribbled At Three A.M. While Skimming Through 'Alien Animals' and Christopher Alexander's 'A Pattern Language'

    charms of the highway strip 4.jpg

    It may be that alien animals are attracted to individuals possessed of certain psychological traits.

    We can surmise that energy-seeking entities were around that night, and that the poacher’s blood would have met their needs.

    Scattered work.

    Magic of the city.

    Web of shopping.

    Antonio Villas Boas had blood extracted from a clean incision just under his chin by the unknown creature or creatures.

    It also seems to be blood that the cattle mutilators are after.

    Mike Corradino has reported finding ‘dead animals, chicks, rabbits, raccoons with their heads bitten off’ and the blood completely drained from their bodies. This is in areas where sightings of the skunk ape have been recorded.

    Eccentric nucleus.

    Degrees of publicness.

    Old people everywhere.

    Neither shooting nor electrocution seems to have deterred the Jersey Devil.

    As near as I can describe the terror it had the head of a horse, the wings of a bat, and a tail like a rat’s, only longer.

    Dancing in the streets.

    Teenage society.

    Sleeping in public.

    The beast looked like no animal he had ever seen, and it was removing an overcoat from an old woman who was lying face down in the snow.

    The rabbit-like creatures, working in concert, were purportedly strong enough to bring an ox to its knees.

    Grave sites.

    Holy ground.

    charms of the highway strip 7.jpg

    I’m throwing a going away party

    A party for a dream of mine

    Nobody’s coming, but a heartache

    And some tears will drop in from time to time

    Don’t worry, it won’t be a loud party

    Dreams don’t make noise when they die

    It’s just a sad going away party

    For a dream I’m telling good-bye


    —Cindy Walker, "Going Away Party."     (There’s a great new version on "Last of the Breed," the forthcoming Willie Nelson/Merle Haggard/Ray Price collaboration on Lost Highway)

  • Lundy, Ridder and Loyalty

    I spent a good chunk of the day tending various hooks in the water, hoping to catch word of the names of reporters on the voluntary buy-out list at the Star Tribune. But it was dead quiet. Not even a nibble. Even though there was word of a 10 AM meeting of Strib brain wizards to review said list.

    As we waited we chuckled over the letter published in the Pioneer Press from its’ former editor-in-chief, Walker Lundy, who is now happily retired in North Carolina, and I suspect wakes up every day delighted to no longer be playing pitiable henchman for Knight-Ridder executives. (Lundy left the PiPress for the Philadelphia Inquirer and a short, very bumpy ride.)

    Lundy took young Par Ridder to task for disloyalty to his former paper by hopping across town to “The Enemy Paper” literally over a weekend.

    The joke now is that Lundy, who was once considered a bit of an odd bird, an old school Southerner afoot on the passive-aggressive tundra, is now viewed as a kind of hokey savant. Lundy at least thought of himself as a journalist … and a character … and he liked characters in return. (God help him he loved mixing it up with Jesse Ventura.) Mostly though, Lundy achieves his new pedestal relative to everything that followed him into the Pioneer Press and what is now going down at the Star Tribune; a funeral march led by the bland and blander.

    Frankly, the loyalty “thing” in the context of rival newspapers was always a little suspect, even back in the fat and happy days of the late ’90s.

    In his letter Lundy reminded his readers of the various PiPressers who jumped ship for the Strib during his reign. Treasonous curs! To his credit he acknowledges that during his reign most PiPressers were earning significantly less than their Strib colleagues and the Strib had nearly double the circulation. (Add to that the fact the PiPress was and is essentially invisible west of the river.) Reminding some way too much of old Gophers football coach, Jim Wacker, Lundy always loved a good rah-rah about how, “Forget all that other stuff. We’re better, damn it!”

    The problem then and now is that money talks.

    I called Brian Bonner, a PiPress veteran and a member of the paper’s Guild pension committee. Sometime in May, at the latest, the PiPress will commence contract negotiations with the new management group, headed by Dean Singleton of Denver-based MediaNews, a man and a company with a reputation for getting what they want at the expense of their employees.

    “Yes,” said Bonner, “there was feeling of disloyalty [in the Ridder leap]. An audible gasp went up when it was announced. His move severed the last connection this place had to a long family tradition. Some of us really were stunned by it. I mean, these sorts of things aren’t supposed to happen. Brezhnev never jumped from the Soviet Union to America.” (Bonner spent a chunk of time in Russia). “No one expected [Ridder] to stay long. But I thought at the very least he’d launder himself through some other paper before coming back here.”

    “But, I never had the feeling [Ridder] was really emotionally involved in the place. The two pillars of his term here were our new geographic focus, [toward booming east metro suburbs, mainly] and cost containment.” If you don’t hear anything in there about producing a better, fuller, more complete and appealing newspaper, there’s a reason for that.

    Bonner credits Ridder for keeping his staff in the loop on the paper’s business situation … vis a vis the Star Tribune, in large part. But then, that is essentially all of what Ridder knows … and, sadly, pretty much all modern editors-in-chief and managing editors need to know. (God help those who remain at the Star Tribune though if Par Ridder starts making the calls on who best fits into the next marketing strategy over there.)

    Bonner also gives Ridder thanks for bringing in the paper’s current editor, Thom Fladung. “A huge improvement over what came before him, wouldn’t you say?” (A not even thinly veiled shot at Vicki Gowler, who Knight-Ridder promoted up to the 63,000 circulation Idaho Statesman.)

    Singleton has already asserted that a freeze on pension contributions is his primary/sole objective in the forthcoming contract negotiations. The Guild has said it will not agree to a freeze as proposed by Singleton, particularly since Singleton has sent out orders that no facet of the contract other than a pension freeze will be considered for negotiation. In other words, forget about trying to make up the money anyway or anywhere else. Nice.

    For the record though, when Singleton stopped by the paper the day Ridder’s departure was announced, he declared himself, “Not anti-union.” Why any professional skeptic would take him at his word, I don’t know, but some PiPressers seemed charmed.

  • Scouting

    gsc.JPG

    Where are my Girl Scout Cookies?

    My mom’s cookies have been delivered. I saw the Springy green box of Thin Mints on her table yesterday. And yet, my little scout has yet to show up.

    I saw a woman in the orthodontist parking lot horking down a sleeve of Do-Si-Do’s, the peanut-butter sandwich cookies. I was jealous, I can admit that.

    From the minute the doorbell rings and the little scout and I enter into a cookie contract, I wait. I’m a patient woman, but if I don’t hear from her soon, I may start stalking her. There are shortbreads out there with my name on them, dammit!

    Would they be this special if you could get them year-round? I don’t know if I want to answer that.

    And they’re not just for snarfing anymore, either. Look what this culinary student from Woodbury did with the peanut-butter sandwiches and the Caramel deLites. That’s patience.

  • A Modern Version Of A Very Old Story

    montana-cigar.jpg

    So, then: Even after all that impenetrable darkness and the long, bruising fall, he would live, and emerge gulping and incredulous into a world painted over in a flat coat of muted gray.

    In the old happily-ever-after version of such a tale, a man in the grips of blind despair would be saved by an angel and delivered into the loving arms of a family and a community of which he was an essential and irreplaceable member.

    There are, though, only humans in this place we still insist on calling the real world, but some of them –and even perhaps most of them– are from time to time provided a moment of difficult grace that allows or compels them to perform the sacred duties of angels.

    It happens. It has happened, even if the realities of the present require that a man in the grips of despair be first conscripted to a version of bedlam that is both humiliating and harrowing. Such a man must live through a dress rehearsal of dying on his journey back to life, and he must be able to see in bedlam a mirror as well as a sort of fractured kaleidoscope of the world he lives in.

    He must recognize that he lives in, and belongs in, all versions of that world, and must learn to believe that the terrible and terrifying things he has seen and experienced are gifts just as surely as are the wonders and the wild happiness and the heavenly days he has been allowed. The man has to learn that he is who and where he however helplessly, however reluctantly is, and that is all he has, and it is a precarious –and precious– gift.

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  • The Three-Pointer: Routine Loss

    Game #61, Road Game #30, Miami 105, Minnesota 91

    1. No Center, No Point Guard, No Chance
    The Minnesota Timberwolves do not have a center who can adequately defend the paint. They do not have anyone capable of fulfilling the point guard duties at both ends of the court at even a mediocre level. These are the traditional foundation positions of pro basketball, and while their importance has diminished with the new hand-checking rules, pro basketball teams still need a steady floor general out on the perimeter and a forceful behemoth underneath the basket.

    Let’s get specific. The Miami Heat’s dynamic tandem of Shaquille O’Neal and Alonzo Mourning manned the center position for 47:02 tonight. They collectively converted 17 of 21 shots, got to the free throw line 18 times (making 12), and finished with 46 points and 14 rebounds. If you’re looking for a moral victory, the Wolves did force 10 turnovers from the two big men, the only blemish on what was otherwise utter domination. Shaq had a season-high 15 points in the first quarter on 7-8 FG, and finished with a season-high 32 for the game. Mark Blount played 35:55, committed 5 fouls and had 5 rebounds while scoring a respectable 17 points. “Fresh” off a long period of inactivity due to an ankle sprain, Mark Madsen committed three fouls in 3:13 and otherwise has a box score full of goose eggs. Craig Smith had four fouls and three rebounds in 17:29, to go with 6 points. Let’s pretend that none of these three spelled Kevin Garnett for the 8:37 he sat and instead collectively played 56:37 at center only. They still registered only half as many points as the ShaqZo monster, and lost the rebounding battle 14-8 while committing 12 fouls.

    Now, Shaq embarrasses a lot of people, and Zo is without question the best backup center in the NBA. But this wasn’t Shaq’s typical game; this was his best game of the season. And even a sub of Zo’s caliber has no business getting 14 points and 5 boards while playing 12:13, which is a possession more than a quarter’s worth of action. Anyone looking at the makeup of this squad at the beginning of this season knew that it was lacking a legitimate banger to relieve the physical and mental wear-and-tear on their finesse-oriented 7-foot superstar. Now we’re in March and while Craig Smith is a pleasant surprise for a second-round draft choice, Blount, Madsen, and the departed Eddie Griffin still leave the squad woefully shy of a bona fide NBA center on defense.

    As for the point guard situation, even the most loyal defenders of Mike James packed their tent and skulked away about a month ago. Remember when James was going to be the third leg of the new MV3 stool alongside KG and Ricky Davis? He was the guy who would slip into the Sam Cassell role, make big shots, take the crunchtime triple-teams off of Garnett or punish the opponents who tried it with his long-range bullseyes–remember, he shot 44% from beyond the arc in Toronto last year. Well, the opponents have been flocking to Garnett, and then Ricky Davis, and James has had more wide open looks than any shooter can possibly hope for this year. Clang! How dis-spiriting is it for a ballclub to work the rock around and set up the shooter, open and in rhythm, only to see that long carom jump-start a fast break the other way? The total overall shooting accuracy for James thus far this year is 41.6%, worse than his three-point shooting a year ago. And he has trouble setting up his teammates. And his defense is pathetic. I’m not going out of my way to rip Mike James, who has always been a decent, standup guy in the locker and a heartwarming underdog story for his career arc: I am merely stating facts that seem as ironclad as the multiplication tables.

    With James frog-marching his season into the toilet, the obvious course of action for the Wolves was to take their lumps helping top draft pick Randy Foye learn the point guard position on the fly. The Wolves already have an off guard they claim to be very excited about in last year’s top draft pick, Rashad McCants–he’s certainly prominent in the “Blueprint for the Future” publicity blitz the brass has recently launched to try and rationalize their failure and distract fans from the short-term dung heap the team is making of this season. And if McCants is somehow a bust, there is always Ricky Davis, the team’s second leading scorer, leader in assists, and second in minutes played. For that matter, the team’s small forwards, Trenton Hassell and Marko Jaric, are also natural off guards.

    Put simply, the team already has a bit of a logjam at off guard and a gaping void at the point. Everybody knows Randy Foye is not ready to be an NBA point guard this season, but he’s smart, he coachable, he’s extremely athletic, and he likes the ball in his hands when the game is on the line–hey, he’s more than 3/4 of the way there in terms of the intangible stuff; now he just needs some fairly painful minutes to make the adjustment. Maybe it will take the rest of this year and all of next year, which was approximately Dwyane Wade’s learning curve, but it is a shrewd, if not sure-fire, gamble–and by the way, a move that would demonstrate to your faithful fans that you actually do have a blueprint for the future. That was the unspoken pact the franchise made with the die-hards about a month or so ago when Foye stepped in for James at the point–it isn’t going to be pretty, but it just might pay off in the long run.

    Then three games ago, Foye gets yanked, in favor of often-injured, little-used sprite Troy Hudson, whose onerous contract figures to keep him with the Wolves at least through the 2008-09 season (it expires a year after that) at more than $6 million per season. Any Timberwolves fan who has watched the team for five years knows exactly what Huddy brings to the menu–an incredibly streaky long-range shot, limited court vision, comfort with an uptempo pace, an affinity for where and when Kevin Garnett likes the ball, and absolutely dreadful defense. A year and a half ago, a sabre-hoops guy over at 82games.com, Dan Rosenbaum, sought to put together an adjusted plus/minus ratings calculation to judge the individual defensive prowess of every player in the NBA. His conclusion? “Troy Hudson probably gets the award for being the worst defender in the league…He is playing a game on the defensive end that is not remotely like anyone else’s in the league.”

    Utah’s Devon Williams discovered that when he repeatedly posted up Hudson with ease, forcing coach Randy Wittman to snatch Foye from the bench in Huddy’s first extended action a week ago. Delonte West discovered it when he torched Hudson en route to a career-high 31 points in Boston’s double-overtime win last Sunday. Smush Parker discovered it as he rang up 11 points in a half-quarter’s worth of action to start the Laker game on Tuesday. And tonight Jason Williams discovered it after Shaq got bored with dunking and began ceding some of the offense to the perimeter. Williams went 9-13 FG without disrupting the normal flow of the offense, as he also chipped in a game-high 6 assists. Although he played 38:56, he got 16 of his 20 points, and 4 of his 6 assists in the 25:06 Huddy was on the court. All told, the Heat scored 68 points in Huddy’s 25:06 of action, and 37 points during the 22:54 Huddy sat on the bench. This is the guy who is eating into the playing time, confidence, and rhythm of the rook who is supposed to be a cornerstone of the Wolves future.

    2. Jaric Being Jaric
    With Trenton Hassell waylaid with an ankle sprain, these games matter more to Marko Jaric’s career trajectory than perhaps anyone else on the squad. Ever since Jaric was embarrassed by Chris Paul in Oklahoma City and then eventually deposed from the starting point guard slot about the midpoint of last season, he’s been something of a foster child on the roster, a man without a set position, generally unhappy with his minutes, often either expressing a desire to be traded or being a hot topic on the trade rumor mill, all the while producing tantalyzing glimpses of how he could be a valuable uber-handyman with the right mindset on the right ballclub–and then, over and over, failing to cinch the impression with any kind of consistent play. (How’s that for a run-on sentence? Watch out William Faulkner!)

    Tonight Jaric the Janus-masked man was in full bloom. He was the Wolves’ best player on the court during the first quarter, continually breaking down his man off the dribble and dishing to open teammates, amassing 4 dimes and making me wonder why this guy isn’t paired with Foye in a backcourt buddy system. Jaric also has a great knack for swiping at the ball when he’s face-up with an opponent, clogging the passing lanes in both a zone scheme and in transition, and doubling down on the big men in the paint.

    Except, as previously mentioned, the Miami bigs had a field day under the hoop, without much bother from Jaric. Was this because Wittman was afraid of leaving James Posey open at the three-point line (Posey was 1-4 beyond the arc, 3-3 from 2-point range), because Jaric wasn’t doubling down quickly enough, or because the rotations never went to Jaric’s side of the court? Jaric did do a lot more harrassing of Shaq in the 3rd quarter, a halftime adjustment that obviously came too late, and set off Williams on Huddy in the process.

    But here is the greater problem with Jaric against the Heat: He didn’t have a field goal (0-3 FG, all from 3-point land) or a rebound in 32:24 of play, and only one assist after the first quarter (still good enough for a game-high 5 on the Wolves). After awhile, the Heat simply played off him, denying him penetration passes and daring him to sink a jumper. He only tried when he was wiiiide open and the shot clock was going down–and couldn’t convert. The game gave one renewed appreciation for the little things we always say Trenton Hassell does, like stick that open j, or box out–with Jaric and Ricky Davis as swing men, Eddie Jones snuck in for 11 rebounds and the Wolves were pounded overall on the glass, 40-28.

    3. On the Fly
    More braintrust follies: In tonight’s “Blueprint for the Future” segment, Personnel VP Kevin McHale says, “we are trying to win with Kevin here…but still trying to win with the young guys…we don’t have a collective soul.” From consistency to chemistry to soulfulness–what’s next, “not enough garlic around our necks under a full moon”? Then Randy Wittman delivers the Wolves’ “keys to the game” which were limiting where Shaq catches the ball for the defense and promoting ball movement on the offense. Well, Shaq led the parade which produced 56 Miami points in the paint, and the Wolves registered only 17 assists on their 36 baskets.

    Then we see the new Wolves add for 2007-08 season tickets. It shows an obviously hung-over dude staring into his open refrigerator. He shuts the door and we see Crunch standing there. The mascot has an airhorn in his hand and starts blasting it in the guy’s ear. I think the punchline was “it’s never too early” to sign up for season tix, but, ah, do you really want to liken entreaties for loyalty–without knowing if KG is even going to be around–with an airhorn at the bedraggled and benumbed crack of consciousness? That’s taking truth in advertising too far.

    The best part of the telecast was color commentator Jim Petersen, who is starting to understand that discussing the Wolves players will be one long bitchfest and so instead has come up with ways to enlighten us about the game itself. Three examples: His explanation about how refs are looking for fouls above or below the waist depending on where they are stationed during a play; his clarification about how a charge can still be called inside the no-charge circle if a player catches the ball while stationed there and then spins into an opponent; and his note that lane violations get called much more frequently on Shaq’s free throws because players know a miss is more likely and start jousting early for position.

    Trying hard versus going through the motions: Yeah, Shaq took the first two months of the season off, along with coach Pat Riley, mailing in the regular season to gear up for the playoffs. But he clearly is focused and at near-prime form now that he smells the post-season, isn’t he? (And apologies/kudos to Peter Weinhold, who I mocked for putting Shaq and KG in the same sentence just a week or so ago.) Meanwhile, nobody hustled harder than Eddie Jones tonight. The best player on the Heat for four season, EJ got dealt and missed the ring on last year’s championship. Bought out by the pitiful Grizzlies, he came back to Miami hell bent on helping the team repeat. If this game is any evidence, he as much as Shaq is providing the bonus play that has enabled the Heat to go 6-2 in Wade’s absence. Now contrast the effort of Shaq and Jones to anyone on the Wolves, from KG on down.

    Finally, no network or basic cable TV game in Atlanta tonight, so I will leave any commentary to those who have NBA Season’s Pass (my ever-reasonable wife convinced me to have a smidgen of a life outside basketball by not buying it). Next trey will be Tuesday night/Wednesday morning after the Indiana game.

  • Unattached

    Tonight, sadly, is your last chance to catch a show so controversial it needs (wants?) bodyguards: The Pope and The Witch, a University of Minnesota production being directed by my former superior at TJL, Robert Rosen (a nice guy). Unfortunately, this means I’ll be missing the whole thing, since I’m taking the evening off to hang out with my friend Andrea Leap and perhaps watch the DVD of Kenneth Anger shorts Peter Schilling just passed my way. (I’m doubly interested because Schilling also passed me a copy of Anger’s classic dish Hollywood Babylon, in which he pooh-poohs all the rapes and suicides that plagued Hollywood’s early years. Anger is an utter asshole, man! He’s got the sharpest of pens, and so this book has been an absolute guilty pleasure–the perfect pairing for evenings on the sofa with boyfriend as he watches Entertainment Tonight.)

    Other stuff: Saturday, last chance to see the David Rathman exhibit at Weinstein Gallery. There’s a Dylan tribute with Martin Devaney and the Rank Strangers at the Turf that same night. And finally, Badly Drawn Boy plays the Fine Line Sunday evening; this band is near ‘n dear to my heart, since my heroin-addicted college boyfriend once offered, with trembling, outstretched hands, an early BDB EP. This happened on the eve of our breakup, and so by then I wasn’t thinking much of the outgoing boyfriend. But I ended up liking the EP very much and have enjoyed the band ever since.