Marcus Smart, College Basketball, and One-And-Done Athletes

Right now I am sitting in my girlfriend's parents' den, watching Oklahoma State play Butler in the Old Spice Classic. My first reaction is that I wish I could be talented enough to play on scholarship at a school that sends me to Disney World to play basketball. My second reaction is that while I don't love college basketball, I do love watching Marcus Smart play basketball.

College sports were never all that interesting for me. I just couldn't pay attention to a system with so many teams and conferences that has as much yearly turnover as it does. I also happen to have attended a university that doesn't feature a team worth caring about. Rutgers men's basketball is objectively not good, with the RAC drawing more for the opposing teams than for the home squad. The quality of play in the NCAA is also not as complex as in the professional ranks, and the talent level just isn't the same.¹ I just never felt the draw.

That said, I still get the appeal. Marcus Smart just split an off-ball double team from the right wing and nailed a three-pointer from the top of the key with both trailing defenders getting hands in his face. Suffice to say, I am impressed. Smart, a sophomore, just wasn't this good last year. Now, he's leading the fifth ranked team in the nation in scoring. In a landscape filled with one-and-done phenoms, Smart stayed in school another season to work on improving his game.

Every player is going to be different. I don't claim to be in the heads of freshmen who would benefit from another year. There are many financial and social considerations that go into such a monumental decision. Still, Smart did what few college players seem willing to risk. By staying at Oklahoma State, he honed his talents to the point where he is one of the most feared guards in the country.²

I don't believe that Smart will start a lasting trend of college athletes staying in school. Jabari Parker, Andrew Wiggins and all of the other great young players are still expected to make the jump, and that's their prerogative. Still, American basketball will benefit from more players like Smart working on their games. Rookies in the NBA will be better prepared for stiffer competition, will be smarter on the defensive end, and will be more able to adapt to the more complex systems. In the process, the college ranks will be more entertaining due to the increased talent level. 

The one-and-done rule is not going to change any time soon. College kids want to make money instead of being consistently deprived on their own identity by a convoluted and messed up organization. I just hope that more students are willing to hone their talents so that we can see more players like Marcus Smart who can read a passing lane, steal a ball, corral his dribble around a defender, then whip a pass over his shoulder with his back to his teammate for a fast-break layup.³

 

^{1. This is perfectly understandable. Players improve with age and experience. some of the players have some more heart than in the pros, there the schemes are more intricate and you can't match the displays of sheer athleticism in the NBA.↩}

^{2. He, by the way, just caught an entry on the right block, made a quick move to the baseline and hit a wide-open layup after leaving his defender in the dust.↩}

^{3. Which Smart just did to the amazement of everyone watching.↩}

Derrick Rose, Depressing Chicago Sports, and What's Really Important

Being a fan of several struggling teams at one time is an interesting experience. The Bears are technically tied for the division lead at 6-5, but they already lost both games to Detroit, Jay Cutler is going to miss his third consecutive game due to injury and the defense can't stop anybody. The Bulls just lost Derrick Rose for another season, and don't have nearly enough talent to pick up the slack. The Cubs are still going through a major rebuilding phase and are still years away. The Blackhawks have been a bright spot in the professional ranks, but the landscape is predominantly pretty dreary.

Rutgers hasn't been much better, either. The football team has been blown out in three of four games to conference opponents and needed a fourth quarter comeback to beat a then one-win Temple squad. The men's basketball team¹ lost two of three to the likes of William & Mary and Fairleigh Dickinson. The women's team opened the season with a cupcake non-conference schedule and still managed to lose to UMASS. 

This is all pretty depressing, and yet I still tune in. I cringed every time the Bears tried to punch it in from inside the Rams' five during the second half on Sunday only to fail miserably almost every time.² I watched more Cubs games the past two seasons than I have my entire life and they lost 197 combined games during that stretch. I saw as much as I could of the Scarlet Knights' debacles against both Cincinnati and Central Florida wondering as they were happening why I was still watching.

The majority of sports fans consistently double as masochists, and I'm no different. I can't not-watch the games just because the teams are bad. It's not how I'm wired, and it's not why I watch in the first place. It's obviously preferable when the team wins, but that's not the important aspect here. It doesn't really matter if the Bears go 15-1 and shuffle through to a championship or shuffle through the likes of Rex Grossman, Jonathan Quinn, Craig Krenzel and Chad Hutchinson at quarterback in one season and go 5-11. What matters is that somehow through it all I still feel a connection to these guys. And this guy. 

Win or lose, sports have a way of bringing people together. I once spent an entire party talking to a guy I'd never met about whether Corey Crawford is good enough for the Blackhawks to win a Cup with him in goal or if they should pursue a trade for Cory Schneider.³ People have come up to me on the street, noticed my Chicago apparel, and apologized to me about Derrick Rose with such sincerity and pity as if mine was the torn meniscus. I've raised countless beers in the hopes that Rutgers could field consistently good teams, and expect to raise countless more.

Different teams win championships every year then go back to the drawing board to do it again. There will always be a new dynasty and historical performances. But when your teams aren't winning, it gives you a chance to focus on why you watch in the first place. 

^{1. Which, in its defense, is always bad, and I never put much faith in them.↩}

<sup>2. The Bears had 11 such plays during the second half, including 7 from the one. They scored on exactly one of these plays despite benefiting from three defensive penalties. To say that this was an exercise in futility would be an understatement.↩

3. As it turns out, sticking with Crawford turned out pretty well (link NSFW).↩</sup>

The Blackhawks, Hockey, and Being Generally Spoiled

I was never the biggest hockey fan. Sure, when I was much younger I would pull for the Blackhawks, and for whatever reason, the Avalanche, but the sport never quite pulled me in. I always much preferred the gridiron or the diamond to the rink.

That all changed when I got to college in the fall of 2009. I found out about ESPN text alerts and would get score updates to my phone. Combine that with my roommate's possession of NHL2011 on his PS3 and the fact that the Blackhawks were quite good, and I was on my way to getting hooked. That said, I still didn't actually know anything.

It's probably also not a coincidence that 2009-2010 was the year I finally got into it. The Blackhawks were terrible when I was growing into my fandom, and very few people are going to pick up and stick with a crummy team. It was easy to hate the Red Wings because they were the same as the Packers¹ in my mind, but I had not thought for one second about the Canucks before that season.² It also helped that a Sharks fan lived right down the hall in our dorm, so we maintained that healthy rivalry throughout the season.

I watched every minute of US hockey in the Olympics that February, and was obviously pleased when the Blackhawks won the Cup that spring, but I admit that I only kind of knew what was going on. I also didn't understand the specifics of the cap dump that ensued, but I could at least appreciate why it happened.

I've since learned much more about the sport, but I'm still a relative novice. I know the basics, and I can generally follow the action, but I'm still living in a bubble brought on by the fact that I haven't experienced anything other than excellence.

When St. Louis beat Chicago a couple weeks ago, I found myself thinking, "wait, other teams are allowed to have really good players too?" Meanwhile, I'll be tuned in to a random game from around league and think "that miscue/turnover/bad result just doesn't happen to the Blackhawks." Clearly I'm delusional because every team makes those mistakes, but it demonstrates how spoiled I've become watching this team.

I know how lucky I've been, and I feel more than a little guilty that I haven't had to suffer before experiencing such success. I know Islanders fans who probably secretly hate me to pieces, and there are probably Blackhawks fans who will just lump me in with other bandwagon fans who are just along for the ride. I don't feel like I deserve what Chicago hockey has produced the past few years, but I know I'm definitely not complaining.

^{1. I have since learned that the players actually feel more animosity towards the Canucks than the Red Wings, so that's where my divisional cross-sport metaphor kind of falls apart, but whatever.↩}

^{2. I now spend more time thinking about them and have determined determined that not only do I not like them, literally (actually) no one likes them. Not even their own fans.↩}

Brandon Marshall, Tim Tebow, and Jesus

I watched NFL Network's post-game coverage of the recent Bears/Giants with someone who doesn't watch sports as often as I do.¹ The show brought Brandon Marshall on set to talk about the game, his contributions, and whatever else they wanted. At one point, Marshall thanked God gifting him these abilities and opportunities for success. The person with whom I was watching retorted, "who does this guy think he is, Tim Tebow?"

The fact that this person does not watch as much as I do plays very heavily into the way I reacted to their remarks. At one point, it used to feel tacky, forced and unnecessary. Did these athletes really believe that Jesus was maneuvering them to the right positions to succeed in a game when he clearly has other, more important things to worry about?²

This isn't just a big-game phenomenon though either. It's commonplace to see a baseball player on a crummy team in a random July game cross himself after a base hit. Wide receivers are praising God as the cross the pylon at any point in the season. Three point specialists are kissing their fists and pointing to the ceiling after every made deep ball.

The more I watch, the less these statements faze me. It is my personal theology that God does not play an active, overt role in our lives, but functions instead in more of an unseen, ninja-like capacity.³ Who am I to say though what these athletes should or should not believe? I am lucky enough to have grown up in a well-off enough environment with two loving parents where I didn't ever have to worry about things like poverty and inner-city crime. The stories of athletes who basically come from the streets and play their talents into the kind of lifestyle many would kill for are a dime a dozen. Who are we to say that this is not, in fact, "God-given talent?"

Religion can play a powerful role in any person's life if they choose to allow for it to. If an atheist does not believe in the supernatural forces that many others do, that's fine.⁴ They are just choosing to live their lives differently. For those who accept it though, religion can provide comfort and direction. I obviously grew up in a very different environment with very different circumstances, but it is entirely within the realm of possibility that without their faiths many of these athletes would not have made it to the big stage. Without the guiding forces of their beliefs, they could easily have fallen victim to their difficult upbringings.

I try my best to never fault someone for their belief systems. The fact that I don't necessarily agree is irrelevant. If an athlete truly believed that Jesus gifted him with crazy agility and body talent, then so be it. We should be the ones thanking God that we can enjoy it.

<sup>1. Which is to say not at basically every minute of every day.↩

2. Although who knows, maybe Jesus would rather escape to sports over worrying about the really important stuff?↩

3. An eerily similar depiction can be seen in the "Godfellas" episode of Futurama.↩

4. Because I'm clearly the authority to whom people look when it comes to the affirmation of their theological beliefs.↩</sup>