Ray Ratto

The NBA gave us its best stuff in Game 1 of the Finals, and now it has nothing left

The NBA gave us its best stuff in Game 1 of the Finals, and now it has nothing left

Adam Silver woke up this morning and almost certainly came to a chilling realization.

That his showpiece as NBA commissioner, the championship series, The Finals, has already peaked.

The league failed by giving us more than we could possibly eat in Game One, which means that Game Two cannot possibly top it as a national discussion centerpiece without going to clownish and contrived lengths that will cause it to jump the shark entirely.

[LISTEN: Warriors Outsiders Podcast: Player-by-player breakdown of wild Game 1 OT victory]

Game One was all the piefights at once, and we needn’t rehash all the ways the meringue flew. LeBron James (for his fashion choice), LeBron James Again (for his jaw-slackening performance), Kevin Durant, Ken Mauer, Tony Brothers, Mike Callahan in Secaucus, George Hill, J.R. Smith, Stephen Curry, Draymond Green, Tristan Thompson, Shaun Livingston, Tony Brothers Again, Draymond Green Again, LeBron James Yet Again (as media critic) and Mark Schwartz . . .

So, Adam, what else you got?

You know what you got? Nothing. There is nothing that can be beaten, which means you gave away all the best stuff in the first part of the movie. It’s the murder mystery read backward, the romcom where the protagonists fall in love during the opening credits, the superhero movie in which the stars form cleanup crews to tidy up the rubble after the planet’s been saved.

It’s the sequel as prequel, and it doesn’t work. It never has.

And it can’t be undone. The league cannot assign Joe West, Wes McCauley and Ed Hochuli to officiate Game 2. It cannot force James to go for 64, 16 and 16, or to show up on the team bus wearing a taffeta ballgown and a fez. It cannot make J.R. sleep in soup, and it cannot make Draymond go more over-the-top as a provocateur.

All the things that made Game 1 a classic of the modern age happened organically, and nothing is worse than forcing an organic process. Indeed, the Warriors winning makes the league’s problem here even worse, because the game that Cavs should have stolen for narrative purposes was stolen by the Warriors to further shut Cleveland’s window of possibility.

Now maybe this is the zen that is required to deal with a clearly lopsided series that has battled ferociously to make its mark against the three Finals that preceded it.

And it did all of that, only it did so in such a way that the rest of the series cannot outdo. I mean, how many times can you get people to not know the score, the rules, or even the laws of probability?

Oh, and never mind James’ trousers. Nick Young came to a game in a bathrobe this year. Their fashion may not coincide with your fashion, but nobody cares about your fashion, they get to wear what they want, fashion is fascism so stop acting like your dad.

But James’ trousers did set off the evening as a series of bizarre events that culminated in a shower of shrapnel that cannot be repeated. The NBA gave us its best stuff, and now it has nothing left.

Except maybe replacing the national anthem with Janelle Monae singing “Boris The Spider” in a helium voice, Sam Hinkie and Bryan Colangelo wrestling in a vat of cooking oil at halftime while Red Panda circles on a turbo-powered unicycle juggling cleavers and spitting fire, and Steve Kerr announces after the game that he is abandoning progressive politics for a hereditary monarchy run by a pony.

Hey, we’re trying here. Now that the NBA shot its storytelling bolt on the first night, we don’t have a lot to work with here. Adam, to quote the poet/philosopher Zlatan Ibrahimovic, you're welcome.

The Kings are the Kings, Myers can't swindle in second round and thesaurus reigns supreme

The Kings are the Kings, Myers can't swindle in second round and thesaurus reigns supreme

When the biggest news to emanate from the NBA Draft is Adrian Wojnarowski’s thesaurus, you have a bad draft.
When the second biggest news is Sacramento bowing to the wishes of Luka Doncic (and the Kings did just that, we are sure) as another reminder of its place in the basketball universe, you have a bad draft.
When the third biggest news is that nobody wanted to talk to Bob Myers about selling their second-round pick to the Golden State Warriors because . . . well, just because, you have a bad draft.
When the fourth biggest news is which draftee’s mom is the hottest, you have a bad (and oddly creepy) draft.
And when the most compelling stories coming out of the draft are still LeBron James, Kawhi Leonard and Dwight Howard, you have a bad draft.
In ten years you may find, of course, that this was actually a 2009-level (as in great) draft for future stars, and all the other stuff will no longer matter. But that is the case of most things these days – they seem like big deals for about 24 hours and end up being nothing of import.
In short, as entertainment, this NBA Draft was that rare flatliner. The league is apparently much better at roasting money, the time for which begins shortly, or maybe our tastes as voyeurs are changing.
The Warriors got in Jacob Evans, the 6-6 wing from Cincinnati, a sort of poor man’s Draymond Green (which is a compliment, and an almost rave review for a 28th pick), but the greater development Warriors-wise was Bob Myers’ inability to sweet-talk a second-rounder out of money-hungry competitors. This may be a sign that nobody wants to touch the Warriors as a trading partner, at least until they are no longer considered enemies of the people, or maybe people are coveting draft choices more than they used to do.
As for the Kings, they went for Marvin Bagley III largely because he was the highest rated player who went for them. Doncic was largely considered the superior choice, and Michael Porter’s troublesome back worried too many teams (he ended up falling to 14 and Denver), but Bagley wanted to be the second pick if he couldn’t be first, which made his appeal to the Kings clear.
But it did nothing to dispel the largely held notion by many players and/or agents that Sacramento is to be avoided by any means necessary, and not because the city is demonstrably worse than any of about 20 other NBA outposts. It is because the perception remains that ultimately, the Kings are gonna King.
Thus ends another NBA show, with minimal effervescence or lasting effect. It was a great draft for the purist, if that matters to you, but the truth remains that LeBron James and Kawhi Leonard are going to blot out the sun this summer. It is a victory for the status quo.
That is, unless you have a rooting interest in the Adrian Wojnarowski-fought-the-law story line, and frankly, you shouldn’t.

Yelp reviews for Ayesha Curry's restaurant in Houston just plain mean-spirited sabotage disguised as hyperfandom


Yelp reviews for Ayesha Curry's restaurant in Houston just plain mean-spirited sabotage disguised as hyperfandom

There is always a good reason to despair for humanity these days. Humanity is, on the whole, performing at a Baltimore Orioles/Arizona Coyotes/New York Jets level, and needs a serious makeover if it is to last through the current millennium.

The latest example of this is in Houston, where local Rockets fans have decided to flood Yelp, the only populist reviewing site, with reviews slagging the new barbecue restaurant opening in town that is owned by megachef Michael Mina and Ayesha Curry, wife of Him.

The key here being that the restaurant hasn’t actually opened yet, so these reviews are meant only to ruin a business run by someone whose husband has a nice jump shot and who otherwise has never meant anyone any harm (although I can’t vouch for the coleslaw).

This is a gentler modification of the campaign by Kentucky fans who tried to ruin referee John Higgins’ roofing company in Nebraska in 2017, and then doubled down with death threats, because Kentucky basketball is that kind of a thing.

Now Warriors fans, who have the same problems with excessive free time that Rockets fans evidently do, have flooded Yelp with five-star reviews of the restaurant, which is no more open for their expertise than that of the Houston fans. In other words, this is one more example of how technology and democracy are wasted on people like us.

The argument has been advanced that Curry somehow invited this by opening up a restaurant in a town that has been bedeviled by her husband’s accuracy for four years now, but this is grandiloquent nonsense. The Kentucky fans showed us that state boundaries are no deterrent to such hate-fueled Internet hijinks, and I have unwavering faith that Rockets fans would have done this if she and Mina had opened their restaurant on the surface of Io. And that Warrior fans would have responded similarly.

Now maybe this is an old guy’s argument (and in the spirit of transparency, I have never met Ayesha Curry or eaten a morsel of her food-based products, so I am aggressively indifferent to her future, good or ill, as a pan jockey), but back in the day the traditional way of objecting to a restaurant was not to patronize it, and when sufficiently aggrieved to give it bad word of mouth. But that was always in response to a poor meal, inadequate service or hygiene shortcomings. That was presumably the idea behind Yelp – to widen the sensible review base.

But in all such cases, the establishment had actually plated a meal and delivered it to the customer before people took to their keyboards or not-so-smartphones to register their views. This strategy is just plain mean-spirited sabotage disguised as hyperfandom, and is one of the reasons why people who take the extreme view that fans suck are not entirely off-base.

The clear solution here would be for Rockets owner Tilman Fertitta and general manager Daryl Morey to attend the grand opening of the joint and chow down in earnest. They don’t have to rave about it, or even comment about it. They just need to be seen doing so, and when asked by a member of TMZ’s guerilla restaurant desk after the meal what they thought, they should say this:

“We are pro-Houston, and we are pro-business. We want everyone’s businesses to succeed, including this one. If you like us, and you do, you’ll leave these folks be, to make their eatery survive or fail on the merits. Oh, and be sure to try the brisket.”

Reason: We wouldn’t want Warrior fans to get the idea that Fertitta’s restaurants should be similarly attacked, or that they should start smearing his casinos simply because he owns the Rockets. Because once this starts, it never stops, because our culture has taken the greatest information delivery system and turned it into a gigantic hate farm.

There. Wasted lecture over. And yes, by all means, do try the brisket, even if your outraged sensibilities about the Western Conference Final allow only to do take-out.