On a chilly Sunday afternoon last March, Tim Duncan was putting the final touches on his pre-game activities before heading onto the court for one of his subtle routines– hugging the basketball before handing it to the referee. He’d already sky-hooked his warm-ups high into the air towards the training staff. He’d tucked, re-tucked, and tucked again his jersey. With only seconds to spare before the tip he reached for the bottle of roll-on talc that sits on the edge of the scorer’s table next to Gregg Popovich’s paper cup and Boris Diaw’s hand lotion. He silently rubbed some into his hands and on the front of his jersey.
Some of my favorite things…
After taking Labor Day off, we are back with a massive show tonight at six central on The Red Dirt Rebel!
From Texas Country Music to NASCAR, The Southern Cultural Index to cold beer and bbq, we’ve got something for everyone tonight.
Scott Fitzgerald starts it off tonight with his legendary 5-Beer Breakdown of our two songs featured in our Battle Segment. The Hogg Maulies “My Town” squares off against Kevin Fowler’s “Panhandle Poor Boy”. I really dig both songs, they speak to where we come from out here. So, two go in and one comes out. Who you gonna vote for tonight?
Nick DeGroot from Motorsport.com will be along to recap Brad Keselowski’s dominance at Richmond and the Chase for NASCAR’s Championship. Who y’all got?
After that we welcome back Fox Sports 1’s John Roberts to get his take on NASCAR’s…
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He was, and continues to be, a healthy helping of hubris and a no-look pass. His silky smooth play and jaw dropping ball handling skill offered promises of greatness that seemed to be just out of reach. Sure, he was part of one NBA Championship with Dallas in 2011 and is 2nd in career assists, but beyond that he was more sizzle than steak.
He played for Dallas, Phoenix, New Jersey, Dallas again and finally in New York before retiring as a player. And just like that deceptively agile kid from California 20 years ago, his transition from player to coach was quick and surprising, yet ultimately unsatisfying.
I drew the picture above not to prove my artistic abilities but to serve as a prop for a thought experiment.
First I showed the picture to my almost three year old son and asked him what he saw. “A red robot,” he immediately said before demanding a snack and commandeering my phone. I then showed it to my four year old son and asked him the same question. He paused briefly, looked at me quizzically and said “A robot?”
Later in the evening I showed the picture to my twelve-year old daughter who is preparing to enter the 8th grade complete with a daily schedule filled entirely with advanced placement classes. She is exceedingly intelligent and has a bright future ahead of her.
Yet she paused for an even longer period of time than both of my boys combined. She looked at me and asked “What do you mean?” I again asked her to simply tell me what she saw. She gigled nervously and said she didn’t know what I wanted her to do. “Tell me what you see,” I encouraged her again. “Is it a robot?” she asked shyly. “Yes honey, it is.” “High five,” I said as she slapped my hand and went off to bed.
Later still I asked my wife to tell me what I’d drawn and she told me to take out the trash. Thus endeth the experiment. But despite its lack of scientific sophistication (and full participation), it was a success nonetheless.
It’s a phenomenon that often plays out in the world of sports, particularly in college football. The programs that implement systems designed to free their players to act rather than analyze are often the most successful. “Paralysis by analysis” is a phrase bandied about in locker rooms but also in corporate board rooms and is applicable in virtually every facet of life. My two sons, still free from the clutter accumulated from years of study and exposure to agency, were quick to answer my simple question.
My daughter, however, paused. It’s not her fault, but rather a natural reaction borne from years of preparatory testing and teachings that imbibe that the simplest solution to any problem is rarely, if ever, correct. The academic environment in which she lives has conditioned her to conclude that no answer can survive on the thin edge of Occam’s Razor. Instead, answers to questions simple or complex, must be safely wrapped in nuance and rationalizations.
And as I get older I notice this proclivity for nuance more and more in the world around me. Perhaps it’s simply the part of my brain that longs to sit on the porch and yell at the kids on my lawn, but most likely there’s more to it.
Take this recent story by Danielle Kurtzleben posted at Vox.com. The title, 5 Reasons why the shrinking GDP isn’t a reason to panic is meant to assuage any angst felt by Vox’s readers over the terrible news that GDP contracted by an astounding 2.9% during the 1st quarter this year. And while she has every right to do so, her desperate search for any bland, opaque statistic that would support her story’s title and overarching thesis is nuanced rationalization at its finest.
For instance, according to Ms. Kurtzleben and Vox, a lot of the blame for the drop in GDP was due to the weather.
Weather accounted for somewhere between 50 and 100 percent of the GDP pullback, says PNC senior economist Gus Faucher. When polar vortexes and multiple feet of snow keep people stuck at home, they just can’t get out to buy groceries or see the doctor. That’s only a temporary hit to the economy — everyone has to go to the doctor and buy food again at some point.
Now, for the sake of time and in an effort to cap a burgeoning word count, I won’t address the first sentence except to say that somewhere between 50 and 100 percent of the time my clock is right at least once per day.
The real justification to focus on, and one that should be garnering more national attention if true, is the claim that for an entire three months much of the nation was unable to get out to buy groceries or see the doctor. It’s an incredible testament to the toughness and grit of Americans. We should all be in awe of that vast, silent majority that went an entire 90 days without food or healthcare. Greatest generation be damned, our country just went on a three month fast and there is somewhere between a 1 and 99% chance (because nothing is absolute) that their sacrifice impacted the economy.
Of course Ms. Kurtzleben’s rationalization is a reach, but serves as a glorious illustration to my greater point. Rather than identifying the crude drawing of the red robot and identifying it as such, Ms. Kurtzleben twists and gyrates through an entire article in an attempt to wrap the fact that our economy suffered a striking downturn into a softer, more palatable list of five nuanced rationalizations explaining why things aren’t nearly as bad as one might think.
The fact that the list is composed of five reasons is telling as well. Why not six? Why not stop at four? Are there exactly five reasons that serve as justification to prove a point for the website that promotes itself as only offering commentary from the smartest voices among us?
The point here is not to denegrate the work of Ms. Kurtzleben, or Vox Media. In fact, I am compensated by Vox for work that I do at SB Nation (which should serve as sufficient proof that Vox doesn’t limit itself to only the best and brightest).
But it is an attempt to point out the fallacy (and potential danger) in a society that is comfortable in immersing itself in a web of perpetual nuance. Whether it’s impacting policy decisions, or influencing supposed educated information intended for public consumption, the paralysis suffered from overanalyzing data and massaging facts to fit one’s preconceived biases and presumed outcomes is crippling our country.
Because while the best and brightest at Vox tell us that:
“Still, this downturn looks temporary. Some economists foresee an annual rate of growth of 3.5 or even 4 percent in the second quarter.”
There are those that don’t have time to patiently wait out the storm based on the prediction by “some” economists.
There are those that don’t have time to twist data, or worse, use sweeping generalizations like “some” or “somewhere between 50 and 100%” to help them sleep better at night, comfortable in the fact that no matter how vague they might be, the numbers say that everything is ok.
Because they are the ones that live on the thin edge of Occam’s Razor and continue to struggle to get by in this economy. They aren’t here to heal the earth and slow the rise of the sea–they just want to feed their families.
And I’m confident that if I showed them my crude picture, they’d quickly tell me exactly what it is. Then they’d likely tell me where I can go, but that’s beside the point completely.
While considering this piece I naturally thought of the frivolousness involved in showing my kids a picture of a robot and turning it into a broader policy discussion. I have no scientific data to support my claim and therefore a theory like this would be best proven with funding from a large government grant. A Blue Ribbon Panel would be appointed to oversee a broad, decade long study of the dangers of nuance led by a prestigious Ivy League instititution. They would then launch a nationwide road show, with presentations of their data tailored to satisfy the desires of their audience. Rationalization would bear even more, and nuance would metastasize, making my red robot drawing unrecognizable to those with the most formal of educations.
And then I realized that only further proves my point.
Lost in the dominating championship run by the Spurs and the free agency drama that quickly followed is the fact that the once vaunted and historically significant Los Angeles Lakers remain, as of this writing, without a head coach. After careful consideration and numerous consultations* with my family, I’ve decided to make the sacrifice and take on the responsibility of leading the once proud franchise through the gauntlet that is the NBA’s Western Conference.
*Consultations consisted of me asking my two year old son if he wanted daddy to be rich and party with Jack Nicholson and he regularly said he wanted some chocolate milk.
The following is my 30, 60 and 90 day plan to win the championship.
I will sign LeBron James, Carmelo Anthony, Kevin Love , Klay Thompson and Zach Randolph to ten day contracts. I will then set a reminder on my Outlook for every nine days to resign them.
I will introduce my new ballers to Kobe and Swaggy P. We’ll go bowling and then eat sushi until everyone is bonded.
First we’re gonna practice like those kids in Hoosiers. Except with no balls. No shooting. Just a bunch of running around for hours until Swaggy P throws up then we’ll call it a day.
I will introduce the team to game philosophies that I first invented at Pounding the Rock when I was considering replacing Tim Duncan. You’ll have to follow along and use your imagination because these are original films of me running these plays. So just picture good ol’ #84 in purple and yellow.
Our first play will involve LeBron jumping into the stands to distract everyone while Swaggy P drains a sweet 12 footer.
Next up I’ve devised a way for Carmelo to be an effective defender. His role will be to continually set screens on defense, which confuses the shit out of the offense and they miss easy lay-ups all day.
Kobe will have his snow bird play where he just takes off like a rocket and dominates on fast breaks. Kobe bird is the new snow bird.
Continue practicing these plays.
Find a beach house to buy and sign autographs. It will also be a good time to assess the mental toughness of my team so I will have their families kidnapped and held hostage.
Release the families and let my players know that I was behind their nightmare the whole time. We’ll all laugh like crazy, but deep down they’ll know to respect me and above all else fear me. That will pay-off big time when we’re in the last seconds of a game and they know they better win or somebody they love might just disappear.
Buy jet-skis for all my players and take them to the lake. After a few hours of fun on the lake, doing rooster tails and chugging beers, I’ll call a team meeting. In the middle of the lake I’ll point out how symbolic it is that we are the Lakers and we’re in the middle of a lake and their lives are totally dependent on me because I bought them jet-skis. It will be at that moment that they realize that Pat Riley and Phil Jackson ain’t shit and I’m their real daddy and we’re a team that can never be broken.
I’ll take their balls away again and we’ll practice like crazy on fundamentals and getting in a good basketball stance. FEET WIDE! PALMS UP! BUTT DOWN!
Party with Kareem and Magic and Jack and that weird old actor that always wears white.
Dominate the NBA.
So that is my plan. In addition to that I’ve also done some other things that helped prepare me. I coached my daughter’s winter league team a few years ago and we won the championship, even after stupid Steve said we couldn’t call a time-out after a basket but I knew we could. I have no idea how he was the head coach because if I was the head coach we would’ve called a time-out.
I also killed a fly the other day by swinging my underwear at it, so I know about adversity.
I’m waiting right here Mitch. Call me.
Such a good recapping of the emotional victory
“When nothing seems to help, I go look at a stonecutter hammering away at his rock perhaps a hundred times without as much as a crack showing in it. Yet at the hundred and first blow it will split in two, and I know it was not that blow that did it, but all that had gone before.
It had been seven years since the stonecutter last split his rock in two to be fitted into an NBA Championship ring for the San Antonio Spurs. Sometimes the rock takes more than 101 blows to do the job, and sometimes the hammer breaks, as it did a year ago in Miami.
In Game 6 of the 2013 NBA Finals the Spurs were just 5.2 seconds from winning an NBA championship. The Larry O’Brien trophy had already been wheeled out and the Finals MVP ballots cast. The Spurs…
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It’s important. It’s important to be able to converse intelligently on certain high-level topics. Movies. Yes. Movies are one of those things. You may have gone to college, gained a little knowledge, but did you really learn any thing?
Today we post the question, what are the five movies every graduate should have seen?
You can use any criteria you want to use. They can be serious. They can be funny. They can be obscure. They can be pop-culture icons. Your list, your movies. You tell me.
As for me, here are my five. I’ll do my best to justify them.
1. Saving Private Ryan. If you only see the first fifteen minutes you’ll never be flippant about war again. If you see the last twenty you’ll have a better understanding of how your parents and grandparents have been affected by the battles they fought. If you’ve worn the uniform…
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Tremendous analysis prior to Game 2…
Source: Mark D. Smith-USA TODAY Sports
They say a series doesn’t get interesting until the home team loses, but that doesn’t take into account the moves behind the players — the adjustments that go on during and in between the games. Pop and Stotts are locked in a battle every bit as real as Aldridge and Splitter are, and it’s every bit as compelling.
As we all know, the Trail Blazers were not quite themselves in Tuesday’s blowout game against the Spurs. There is no doubt that the Blazers will make some key adjustments to get themselves back into this series. And, if memory serves well, Pop will find a way to counter them.
How, you ask? Let’s play basketball chess!
Terry Stotts’ Moves
For a team built to wreak havoc on the offensive end, poor offense can often be a catalyst…
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By the time 1996 rolled around KP and I were grizzled NASCAR veterans. We’d been to two races, on opposite ends of the country in 1995 and were ready for more. As the summer rolled around we gathered our group for another strategy session and decided to head back to Talladega for the July race. Sure we all should have been hospitalized after the last race and sure it was hotter than curling up in a sleeping bag in a volcano on the sun, but we were going back.
We decided to switch it up a little this time though. We drank in as much of the experience as we could last time so how could we change it up to keep it exciting? The Nusser suggested we sit on the backstretch. Oh hell yeah, what an idea!
We had no idea what we were getting into.
So we borrowed…
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In celebration of Talladega weekend, revisiting my two trips there almost 20 years ago…
The Nusser and I were best friends growing up. We did everything together. We can probably still recite every line in Bull Durham and we grew matching mullets. In high school he drove a 1976 black Capri and installed glass packs to make it as obnoxiously loud as possible. The Nusser also had a notoriously bad temper. He was my ride to and from school but sometimes he’d get mad at me and stop about a half a mile from my trailer park and make me walk home. One morning he came to pick me up for football practice way too early. I was still in bed so he threw a baseball at me. I’m still not sure why. We had at least an hour before practice.
But we made it through all the flying baseballs and stopping short and remained friends. And I’ll always be grateful for one thing…
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