Ray Ratto

Ratto: Harbaugh in coaching catbird's seat

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Ratto: Harbaugh in coaching catbird's seat

Jan. 3, 2010RATTO ARCHIVEORANGE BOWL PREVIEWRay Ratto
CSNBayArea.com

MIAMI -- Jim Harbaugh must be enjoying the world spinning about his hive right now, guessing what hes thinking.

Yes, the joys of leverage. Even better than the joys of sex, because leverage is a lot harder to come by.

Harbaugh is going to Michigan if you listen to college folks and people from Michigan. Harbaugh is going to the 49ers, if you listen to pro people and people from San Francisco. Harbaugh is staying, if you listen to a few lonely and desperate Stanford fans who believe in the power of hallucination.

KILLION: Black Monday dawns bright for Harbaugh

And the Orange Bowl? Knowing he, and not the game, will be Topic A tonight.

Harbaugh could play the teary retirement angle tonight in the postgame presser, though we doubt it. He likes the game of watching people guess at his motivations too much. It is a power aphrodisiac that doesnt require bullying or other weapons, and it only comes a fellows way once, maybe twice, in his lifetime.

Thus, were going to bet heavily that he waits a few days beyond the anticipated firing of Rich Rodriguez at Michigan and then let the 49ersmiscellaneous NFL team and the Wolverines fight it out for his love. And that he wont let any secrets between now and then.

In short this isnt Harbaughs move. Its Michigans, because they havent fired Rodriguez yet. Once they do, the game will truly be afoot. In the meantime . . . well, you know. Kickoff at 5:35 p.m. Interminable halftime show. Game over sometime after 9 p.m. Bring beer. Youll need it.

Ray Ratto is a columnist for Comcast SportsNet Bay Area.

Celtics are the rivals Warriors fans need

Celtics are the rivals Warriors fans need

You don’t think you needed this game to go this way, but you did, and you do.

The Golden State Warriors spat out a 17-point lead and lost, 92-88, in Boston Thursday night, in a game that was taut if not particularly elegant, and in a game that elevated the Celtics to a place that makes them the new heir apparent to the heir apparent.

The Celtics have been a difficult out for the Warriors during the Brad Stevens Era, losing six of nine but only being blown out twice, and Thursday was not one of those nights. The box score will tell you the shooting and rebounding problems, but the Warriors had that lead and didn’t hold it. Or, to be accurate, the Celtics had that deficit and refused to let it destroy them.

Which is exactly the kind of team you, the fully licensed Warrior fan, want to watch play your team in the NBA Finals. You want to see them genuinely challenged, forced to win outside their comfort zone, induced to show their greatness in the highest of high leverage situations.

At least we think that’s what you want. Maybe you prefer blowouts so you can drink and go to the bathroom without care or fear. After all, the Warriors have taught the area the true meaning of front-running by being in front so often.

But the Celtics play a level of defense typically reserved for the San Antonio Spurs, and yes, the Warriors. They have a spiky exoskeleton that the acquisition of Kyrie Irving has actually enhanced, and Jaylen Brown and Jayson Tatum give them a gifted precocity that fits well with veterans like Al Horford and Marcus Morris, and Boston’s overall youth (they are fifth youngest, while Golden State is third-oldest) ought to make them a more difficult conundrum than Cleveland or any other team in either conference.

They are not yet the superior team; that remains to be proven, and betting against the Warriors requires a level of irrational bravery left only for the truly self-destructive.

But they are, as we sit this evening, the team the Warriors will have to work hardest to finish, because on a night when they had the chance to do so, they didn’t. In other words, the fight for a third ring still goes through Oakland, but it looks more and more like a one-stop through Boston.

And as much as you may hate thinking about it, you’ll almost certainly remember, and savor, a Celtics-Warriors final more than another round of Cavs-on-the-half-shell.

Three reasons Draymond Green is the perfect college professor

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AP

Three reasons Draymond Green is the perfect college professor

Programming note: Warriors-Celtics coverage starts today at 4 p.m. on NBC Sports Bay Area and streaming live right here 

Draymond Green spoke to a group of students at Harvard Thursday on the subject of leadership, and if you find that incongruous, shame on you.
 
I mean, who else would you want as a college professor?
 
Green has led, and been led. He has learned, and he has taught. He has certainly lectured, as any teammate, official and media member will testify. He’d be a hell of a teacher, and the subject almost doesn’t matter.
 
For one, homework would be different, as in I’d bet there would be no written work. I don’t see Prof. Day-Day poring over essays about the Industrial Revolution, M-theory or pre-Raphaelite art. Not even the history of Basketball-Reference.com.

For two, having tenured faculty audit his classes may find his choice of rhetoric a little strident, as in “What the ---- were you thinking, dude?” is not typically approved instructional methodology.
 
And three, nobody would get a grade. Green would mark every exam with a “35,” as in his draft position, and besides, the exams would be students arguing with each other over whether that was a foul or a no-call, and who pulled the better face when the call was made. He’d give either an approving nod or give the loser a second technical foul and kick him or her out of class.
 
But it would be a hell of a class. Not at Harvard, of course, because Green probably would want to teach a school that could better use his brand of wisdom, and Harvard kids already have a healthy lead off third base. He’d want his students to make Harvard students cry, you can just tell.
 
But wouldn’t he look perfectly Draymond in a cap and gown on graduation day, pulling a bottle out of his sleeve to make the valedictory speeches less painful. “Damn, dude,” you could hear him yell. “Peaking?”