Chris Paul was quiet.
He’s been quiet for the past few games, content to dish and wait as David West played the leader role. His shooting looked a little off; maybe he was still feeling the pull of the groin injury. We weren’t concerned. We shouldn’t have been. But maybe the Mavs should have.
Because you don’t want to see Chris Paul quiet. It’s like the still, humid, blue-sky day before a hurricane.
And then it was the third quarter.
Interlude: So this is what happens on TNT after the Blazers/Nuggets game. First off, the TNT crew has been unnecessarily ripping on Portland all game, saying stuff like, “The Nuggets need to beat these teams that are vastly inferior to them.” Uh, Portland was half a game back. Seriously, guys? Biased much? I was already rolling my eyes at that. Then they bust out with, “Everyone on the Hornets is worse except for Chris Paul, who is the same. They all had career years last season. We don’t have the stats on that, but… they’re worse. And they don’t win unless he averages 25-15.” Which completely ignores the injuries, the recent fire that’s been lit under them, the 8-2 streak out of the All Star break, and the fact that Rasual Butler (remind me to do a post on this) is invisibly playing the best basketball of his entire career, after being a DNP-CD most of last spring. I was glad to see Barkley back, but I forgot that he’s so irritatingly changeable. (Chuck’s statement is also a rampant exaggeration, as ESPN’s Daily Dime and Elias Sports Bureau more factually stated this morning that “It was the ninth time in the last two seasons that Paul had at least 25 points and 15 assists in the same game. That’s one more 25-point/15-assist game than all other NBA players combined have recorded over the last two seasons.”) But the gist of the exchange is that, according to TNT, the Hornets are “out.”
Really, Chuck and Kenny? You’re gonna straight up tell Chris Paul he and his team can’t do something? You must not be watching the same Chris Paul I’m watching. And, while we’re at it, you’re wrong on another count too. He’s better than last season.
Back to the game. It’s tied 45-45 going into the third. You probably saw what happened next. At one point in the third quarter, mW remarked that it was like that scene in Happy Gilmore (which was fresh in our minds after being on TV approximately sixteen times last weekend) where he’s like, “Nah, I’m just gonna win now.” And then he does.
That was what it was like.
8-2 since the break, and 6-0 since Tyson came back. And I guess I feel sorry for the dudes on TNT, for Bill Simmons, for all these people who write these articles focusing on the wrong thing with this team, that they can’t just sit back and appreciate the whole “We’re getting the band back together!” what-the-hell vibe of it all. That they can’t see these past weeks for what they are– something rare and precious and swaggering and fun in these dark times of “sports as business” and “teams as cap space.” Just a bunch of guys who thought they lost their chance to play together… and then, against all probability, got it back. Just a bunch of guys playing for each other and racing to climb a ladder against time.
And then I realized something. I realized that, no matter what happens in the offseason, no matter what cost-cutting moves are made, if you live in New Orleans, it’s getting to the point where it isn’t a choice whether to buy tickets. I get the “let’s boycott the team because of Tyson Chandler” kick some disillusioned fans went on a couple weeks ago. Believe me, I get it. It’s a grand sentiment, but it’s a terrible idea.
Why do you go to games? For me, part of it is the lure of the tantalizing possibilities that lie spread out before you at the 12:00 mark of the first quarter. It’s about the chance– the slim, elusive chance– that you might see something transcendent. That someday you might be able to tell people, “I was there. I was at that game.”
‘Cause, see, last night I saw Chris Paul decide about halfway through the third quarter that he was going to win that game. He didn’t say it in words, but he said it in a thousand other ways– with a glare, a behind the back dribble, going through Jason Terry’s legs, a laugh and a spin. When Chris Paul asks you if you wanna dance, you say yes. And when he says he’s going to win, you believe him.
Really, at what point does it become less a question of expectation and more a question of plain mathematics? Like 2+1 is always gonna equal three. It’s 77 degrees in New Orleans, and Chris Paul dismantled the Dallas Mavericks last night. We’ve been here before.
I’m going to flat out say this: I haven’t read the Charley Rosen “Deron Williams is better than CP” column.
