Mailbag: How do today's stars match up?

SicC

Dying Breed
Staff member
#1
How do you think a team of All-Stars from the past — like Wilt, Robertson, Pettit, and others of that era — would fare against today's All-Stars?
— James Balthis, St. Louis

Wilt would certainly hold his own (and more), and so would Oscar (who could easily post any opponent), Jerry West, and John Havlicek. But Pettit would easily be out-quicked. Bill Russell would do well against somebody like Tim Duncan, but would get overpowered by guys like Yao and Shaq, who (unlike Wilt) have more than two basic moves and regularly attack the basket.
Whereas the players of yesteryear were generally more fundamentally sound than today's stars (mainly because the vast majority of them were forced to play out their full collegiate careers), the modern-day NBAers are quicker, bigger, stronger, and more athletic. Which is exactly why someone like Bob Cousy wouldn't even make a current NBA roster.

The only way for the old-timers to win would be to take the air out of the ball and run precise plays on offense. Wilt and Russ would have to play together, with the former attacking all ball penetration and the latter executing the proper baseline rotations. Russ would also have to be the designated defender in any high screen/rolls involving a big man, with Wilt zoning up the paint. And Chamberlain and Russell would have to command both backboards — a not-unlikely probability.

In a 7-game series, the old guys would win two or perhaps three, but most likely couldn't win the whole shooting match.

Charley, do you now, or have you ever played basketball?
— Sunsetladee

Sure did. For Hunter College (which is now Lehman) in New York City from 1959-62. In my best season, I shot 50% from the field, averaged 24.2 points and captured 16.0 rebounds per game. Back then, the only distinction made in evaluating the competition of NCAA schools was Major College teams and Small College teams. Even though we played the likes of Hofstra, Fairfield, Bridgeport, and LIU, we were in the latter category. As such, I was named to several all-star squads, and in 1961 was an alternate on the U.S. team that won a gold medal in the Maccabiah Games in Israel. (The stars of that squad were Larry Brown and Art Heyman.)

In 1993, I was a member of the Albany (NY) Golden Bears, bronze-medal winners in the World Senior Games in St. George, Utah. I retired two years later after a pickup game during which I was late getting to a loose ball and resorted to elbowing my 25-year-old opponent to try to delay him. When he wasn't at all deterred, and my elbow swelled up, I knew it was time to hang up my size 16s.

I'm an avid follower of your column and while I sometimes disagree with you, you usually make a strong case for your arguments that goes far beyond (and often against) popular opinion. I started watching the NBA just about nine years ago, so I never got to see Magic Johnson in his prime, and never saw Oscar Robertson at all. I was curious about a in which you rated John Stockton as the number (4) all-time point guard behind Magic and O. From what I could see, Stockton was an exceptional passer who excelled in the half-court game, was great and underrated at running the break, was a clutch shooter and decision-maker, a stabilizing force, an underrated defender, and a crafty, dependable finisher. He also set bone-jarring picks and was as tough as anybody else in the league. (I even saw him take a charge on Shaq!) From what little I saw of Magic, he was a poor defender, a poor (if clutch) shooter, an excellent half-court passer, amazing at running the fast break, and a matchup nightmare. Could you explain why you consider both Magic and Oscar to be better than Stockton?
— Eduardo Castellanos, Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic
 

SicC

Dying Breed
Staff member
#2
Everything you say about Magic is true. But a point guard has to be judged by how he fulfills the needs of his particular team. Since the Lakers were a running team who mostly went to Kareem when the break was unavailable, Magic fit their needs to perfection. His size, strength, and quickness made him impossible to handle on the run. Indeed, he was the best finisher of any point guard ever. A particular advantage of his being 6-9 was that he could easily pass over the top of any defender, a quality that immensely enhanced his accuracy and enabled him to deliver the ball anywhere at any time without having to resort to subterfuge. Likewise were his entry passes into Kareem exemplary and unstoppable. Anything else he did — post up, rebound, get to the basket against any defender — was strictly gravy.

As for the Big O, in addition to his immense talents and versatility, he was simply the most fundamentally-sound player ever. He could shoot, post up, pass, rebound, run, play shut-down defense, see the court, and make impeccable decisions. The only thing he couldn't do was fly like MJ.

The deciding advantages that both Magic and Oscar have over Stockton include their rings and their versatility, but mostly consists of their size and power.

I'm too young to have seen Rick Barry play. But I listen to his radio show and very much appreciate his basketball IQ. He says he wants to be an NBA coach. Why has he been passed over for head coaching jobs? Does he have too much of an ego? Did he rub someone the wrong way? Is he being blackballed It's a shame he isn't coaching in the league.
— Mikey, Danville, CA

As you guessed, it's his ego that's in his way. There's no question that Barry has the expertise to be an outstanding coach, but his arrogant courtside manner leaves much to be desired. During his brief stints coaching in the CBA (where his record was 25-46), he was deemed by his peers to be overwhelmed by the number and pace of the required game the decisions. His record in the USBL (53-32) was much better, albeit he was facing less experienced coaches and lesser players. Still, his rather imperious attitude towards his players, his bosses, the refs, and so on, eventually chased him out of there too.

Here's a story that I've told before that illustrates how his teammates used to react to Barry:

When Barry was playing with Houston, there was considerable conflict among the players. One day, coach Del Harris called the team together. Harris was a fervent believer in the power of visualization, and he told the players to close their eyes and visualize the source of all the conflict being placed into a black leather bag. Then they were to visualize themselves walking out onto the middle of a bridge, where they would throw the bag into the water, and as the black bag sank below the surface of the water, all of the conflicts would vanish. Harris repeated this scenario a few times, embellishing all the details, and then he told everybody to come back to the here and now. Billy Paultz opened his eyes, turned to face Barry, blinked once, and said, "Rick, how come you're still here?"

You always hear about how great certain players would have been had it not been for external (or internal) circumstances that derailed, hindered, or prevented their NBA careers from realizing their full potential. For example, what kind of career would Arvydas Sabonis, Len Bias, Jay Williams and Bobby Hurley have had if it weren't for their particular extenuating circumstances? Is there anybody else who fits into the same category?
— Tedmund Munoz, San Francisco
 

SicC

Dying Breed
Staff member
#3
Unfortunately, I'm not as conversant with collegiate players as I might be, so I really can't provide in-depth evaluations of Bias and Williams. But I did see enough of the young Sabonis to be convinced that he would have been a perennial NBA All-Star had the Russians allowed him to play in the league. By the time he did arrive here, his knees were shot and his ability to move both laterally and vertically were significantly impaired. In his prime, Sabonis would have indeed been Shaq-like but with a wider variety of post-up moves (particularly his hook shots), a reliable jump shot with legitimate 3-point range, and the passing skills of a point guard. Shaq was a better rebounder and quicker off his feet.

Hurley was too small and too weak to make it in the NBA even before his accident. If he had jet speed he might have had a shot, but he didn't. I happened to coach against Hurley when he played in the CBA, and his skills were so dramatically eroded as to make it hard to watch him play. But I called for plays that attacked his defense nevertheless.

As far as other "tragic All-Stars" are concerned, Wayne Estes is up there (in more ways than one). He was a truly great shooter for his size (6-8), in addition to being smart, tough, and skilled in just about every other category. With only five games left in his career at Utah State, Estes and some friends paused at the scene of a car accident to see if they could be of some assistance. While his friends walked safely underneath a live electric wire that none of them noticed, but that dangled six feet above the ground, Estres made contact with it and was immediately electrocuted. I had seen him play in the 1964 Olympic tryouts and (along with just about every other NBA watcher) tabbed him as a sure-fire future All-Star.

Add Hank Gathers to the list, as well as Ossie Schectman.

But the best of these unfortunates was Maurice Stokes, who was struck down and eventually paralyzed with post-traumatic encephalopathy in March 1958, after crashing to the floor in pursuit of a loose ball. In his brief career with the Rochester Royals, Stokes proved himself to be a superb rebounder, passer, and scorer who was certainly bound for the Hall of Fame.

I thoroughly enjoy your persuasive assertions and compelling deconstructions of players' strengths and weaknesses on the court. Much is made of the comparative advantages of so-called "major market franchises" over so-called "small market franchises," especially regarding the ability of the former to lure free agents and generate sufficient revenue to spend gobs of money for players without worrying about the luxury tax. But what besides population differentiates the two categories? Toronto is the fifth largest NBA city (5.6 million live in the Greater Toronto Area) and is still considered to be a small market team. With the NBA game becoming radically more global, and with millions of diehard fans living outside the parameters of North America (think the Houston Rockets and their popularity in China), how long is the binary classification of big and small market franchises going to remain relevant?
— Jerome B, Winnipeg, Canada

A good point. But the classification is all about money. Since you brought up Toronto, let's take a closer look at the Raptors.

Aside from the game attendance, there are several other ways in which franchises make money. Selling player jerseys, machine-autographed basketballs, and other paraphernalia. Game-time concessions. Selling the local TV rights. The monies generated in these ways often have nothing to do with population.

TV ratings are a major factor, both locally and (especially) on any national telecasts that originate in Toronto. It's these ratings, after all, that determine what the networks can charge for advertising — which, in turn, determines how much the networks will pay for the TV rights to NBA games in the first place.

I'm not privy to the specifics of these numbers with regards to Toronto, but my guess is that they don't compare with the huge sums that franchises like the Knicks, Bulls, Lakers, Sixers and Celtics can demand. Also, in Toronto, NBA basketball runs a distant second to the NHL as far as media attention is concerned. To say nothing of the level of corporate interest in the Raptors' games.

But, as you indicated, times are a-changing. Eventually, the NBA will be able to divide so many untold billions of bucks from overseas markets that all of the markets in the USA will be major ones.
 

SicC

Dying Breed
Staff member
#4
Hi, Charley. I appreciate your to-the-point writing style. So many sports writers dig up analogies and jokes to get a cheap laugh, but they rarely say anything insightful. Your wit comes off the page naturally, and serves a purpose. In a world where everybody wants to deal a comic death-blow — presumably to impress somebody, or to make a colleague/contemporary/or counterpart feel lesser — it's nice to see somebody who's above making clever nonsense. It is the sign of a true expert. I've got two questions for you: What fiction authors do you read? And, could you cook up the best all-time quote from an NBA player? Here are my nominations: The young Dr. J was reluctant to board a flight that, because of the time-zone factor, would land fifteen minutes before it departed. Erving said, "No way I'm getting on a time machine." Also, when Charles Shackleford was asked to explain his uncanny ability to hit layups with both his right and left hands, he said, "I'm amphibious."
— Mark Bowen, Raleigh, NC

Thanks for the props.

As an only partially reformed academic (with an MA in Medieval Lit), I'd say that Faulkner is my all-time favorite novelist. Among contemporaries, I like Phillip Roth and (sometimes) Norman Mailer, whose latest novel was among his best. I'm currently reading Ivan Doig, who writes deceptively simple historical novels about Montana. Even so, one of my two favorite modern novelists is J. R. Salamanca, whose debut novel The Lost Country is simply incredible. The other is George Garrett, especially Death of the Fox, the first and best of his Elizabethan-era trilogy. I consider these two novels to be the best produced in America since Faulkner.

Here's my pick for the best all-time quote: When Michael Ray Richardson played with the Knicks, he was asked to react to a losing streak. The first part of his answer is widely known, but it's the second part that makes his response an all-timer: "The ship be sinking," he said. "And the sky's the limit."
 

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