Stop looking so surprised. The Clippers define fail.
I couldn't help but spit up a little when I read this part of Bill Simmons' 2009-10 NBA preview:

The Clippers are going to be good. The parts fit. They have size, shooting and rebounding. They can play fast or slow. Their best player (Baron Davis) is motivated again. They have the Gordon/Griffin combo, only the NBA's best young inside/outside combo. They have a bench. They have cap flexibility (only $36 million committed next season). This is a playoff team. I'm telling you. And as I've written many times, Clipperland remains the most logical 2010 LeBron destination on paper. It's true.

Mind you, this is the same guy who wrote an open letter to Blake Griffin warning him about the dangers of playing for the Clippers. His exact words:

Run. Just start running. Run for your life. Run like the star of a horror movie. Don't turn around. Run and keep running.

Well, Simmons was right to warn Griffin (and laughably wrong to predict they'll be good)...because this year's number one overall draft pick will miss up to six weeks weeks with a broken knee cap:

Griffin apparently broke his kneecap during the Clippers' final exhibition game against New Orleans last Friday, perhaps after a dunk that left the power forward wincing in pain. The team initially said Griffin only had a sore left knee, making him questionable for the opener, before revealing the break.

Mind you, "back in six weeks" does not mean "back to 100 percent in six weeks." For the last time: Can we all just stop being surprised when this stuff happens to the Clippers?

Bonus quote: If you check out Kevin Arnovitz' season preview at ClipperBlog, you'll notice the following quote from yours truly in the "No You Can't" section: "The best thing the Clippers can say about the last 25 or so years is 'At least some terrible hell beast hasn't risen from the sea and eaten our team.' Yet." See? Even a month ago when I wrote that line, I already knew they are who we thought they were...

Labels: Bill Simmons, Blake Griffin, Los Angeles Clippers, they are who we thought they were

Note: This post was nominated by Basketbawful reader kobefearslebron.

Phil Jackson Face (fil jak'-suhn fas) noun. A facial expression that simultaneously conveys both supreme annoyance and resigned acceptance.

Usage example: Every time Evil Ted sends one of his patented no-look passes sailing out of bounds, I make the Phil Jackson Face.

Word history: The term was semi-coined by Bill Simmons in his article Take a retro look at Game 2 and then more fully explained in Kobe '09: Change we can believe in? I say "semi-coined" because Simmons actually called it The "Should I point out to him that MJ would have absolutely passed there?" Face. Here's the excerpt:

My favorite image of the 2009 Finals was Phil's face after Kobe went one-on-four at the end of Game 2, something I jokingly called The "Should I point out to him that MJ would have absolutely passed there?" Face in my column.

You know what his reaction reminded me of? Being married. Spend enough time with a person and you accept their strengths and weaknesses for what they are. For instance, I am messy. I leave clothes on the floor. I will make coffee in the morning, mistakenly leave a little coffee on the counter and not clean it up. I'm just selfishly absentminded about little things like that. My wife stopped complaining about it around three years ago. When I do those things now, she just makes the Phil Jackson Face. Crap. I'm stuck with him. It's not even worth getting into it. The plusses outweigh the minuses. Let's move forward. Jackson never made that face with his first wife (Jordan); with his second wife (Kobe), he makes it every so often. You could say they're an imperfect match, and if you want to keep the domestic analogy going, they even legally separated in 2004 after a couple of unhappy years. Now they might go on like this indefinitely.

Word trivia: My buddy Mister P is the absolute master of the Phil Jackson Face, so much so that I'd rename it the "Mister P Face" if he was famous (outside of our pickup league, anyway). Even more than Evil Ted (who is a hardwood bastard in his own right), Mister P simply CANNOT stand playing on a team with one or more crummy players. When a lousy shooter forces up a hotly contested 20-footer (hereafter referred to as a "Kobe") instead of passing to a wide open Mister P -- and, sadly, this happens a lot -- he'll turn, give me an extended Phil Jackson Face (usually with a slight head tilt thrown in for good measure), and then trudge slowly down court. (As you probably already know if you play pickup ball, defensive apathy kicks in almost immediately for players who don't receive passes on open looks.)

As alluded to in the usage example, I make this face at least once a night when teamed up with Evil Ted. He has this move in which he drives hard, jumps in the air, and then throws a two-handed behind-the-head pass that occasionally looks brilliant but usually results in a turnover or a teammate scrambling madly to prevent the turnover. Of course, I know how this maneuver became part of ET's repertoire: Larry Bird did it all the time, and it's prominently featured in a passing montage during Larry Bird: A Basketball Legend. Keep in mind that the degree of difficulty of passes featured in a Larry Bird highlight film is pretty high. There probably should be a disclaimer that says: "Do not attempt these moves, mortal fool!"

There's also a time during almost every pickup game when my features get frozen in the Phil Jackson Face...and that's game point. Everybody wants to be the hero, especially if it's a close game. It's almost as if the ball is carrying a virus that's 100 percent contagious, and that virus fills its victim's mind with one all-consuming thought: MUST SHOOT. And, of course, the opposing team usually picks up their defensive intensity, which means that the "good" looks get further and further away from the hoop, until guys start chucking it up from near midcourt. ("BUT I WAS OPEN!") Strategies that worked all game will be carelessly abandoned at game point for one-on-one drives into traffic, leaning half-hooks, turn-around jumpers from impossible distances, and any other bad shot you want to name/describe. But you know it's going to happen, so most of the time the Phil Jackson Face is all you can do.

Labels: Bill Simmons, Evil Ted, fan submissions, Phil Jackson, pickup basketball, Word of the Day

hombre (hahm'-bray') noun. A seriously tough dude.

Usage example: Man, Charles Oakley was a real hombre back in the day.

Word history: This term has been popping up in an increasing number of NBA telecasts over the course of the season, but I finally decided to make it an official Word of the Day on Friday when 1. Bill Simmons specifically mentioned it in his NBA mailbag and 2. Hubie Brown said "There are a bunch of tough hombres out there tonight" during the Spurs/Jazz game.

Here's how The Sports Guys described it: "I like the word 'hombre' as an NBA word that means the opposite of wuss. If you're an hombre, that means you're not allowing anyone to push you around; you'll stand up for your teammates when they get knocked into the basket support; you play bigger than your size; and you have the balls to take and make big shots in big moments."

The only part of that description I disagree with is the "you play bigger than your size" part. I mean, I would classify Oakley as an hombre, and he was a pretty big dude. Still, I think "hombre" is the new best term for NBA tough guys.

Update: I received the following fan-freaking-tastic Photoshop from Basketbawful reader Stephen, who said: "I'm personally looking forward to the day when we can use other spanish words to describe players, like, 'Kobe is such a puta!' or, 'They're going to have to stop playing like a bunch of coños out there if they stand a chance in the 2nd half.'" So am I, Stephen. So am I.

Labels: Bill Simmons, Hubie Brown, Word of the Day

The San Antonio Spurs: Everybody always talks about what a competitive bastard Kobe Bryant is, but what about those Spurs, huh? They must have seen the video I posted of Zach Randolph's poop stew of a possession and said, "You think that sucked, Basketbawful? Well, we're going to show you craptastic suckitude on a grand and historic level. And then we'll win anyway." And I'll be damned if they weren't as good as the words I imagined they said. The defending champs scored five points -- five points!! -- in the first quarter, setting new franchise lows in points, field goals made (1-for-17), and field goal percentage (6) in a single 12-minute session.

Fun fact: The Spurs' previous low in points for a quarter was eight, which they most recently had on Christmas Day in 2005 at Detroit.

The Atlanta Hawks: When you hold your opponent to five points on 6 percent shooting in the first quarter, you're probably well on your way to a nice, easy win. Unless, of course, you are the Atlanta Hawks, who have been snatching defeat from the jaws of victory since 1968. And make no mistake: This loss was a group effort. The Hawks shot 33 percent as a team and committed 22 turnovers. All-Star Joe Johnson hit only 5-of-12 shots and threw the ball away 6 times. Mike Bibby couldn't throw a ping pong ball in the ocean (1-for-11). Josh Smith shot 2-for-12 and lost the ball 8 times. Mario Williams scored a one trillion. Say it with me once again: They are who we thought they were.

Marquis Daniels: A woman was allegedly raped at Daniels' home during a "small gathering." According to the police, Daniels is not a suspect. Said Daniels: "I don't know what happened. I wasn't involved." He wasn't involved in a small gathering held at his own house? What, did a roving band of criminals break in and decide to throw a rape party? I doubt it. Brawls, shootings, more shootings, mascot assault and battery...am I the only person who's tired of seeing random Pacers in the Indianapolis police blotter? Or am I the last Pacers fan alive? Anyone out there? Anyone? Bueller?

Travis Diener: I'm not going to going to mention the whole "name rhymes with wiener" thing -- oops, I mentioned it -- because the real issue was his 2-for-10 shooting performance. What, the Pacers miss Jamaal Tinsley so much they replaced him with sombody who shoots even worse? Diener's hitting 33 percent of his shots on the season. He's only hit 50 percent of his shots once in 10 games this month, and he's had nights of 2-for-8, 1-for-7, 2-for-8 again, 1-for-7 again, 2-for-6, and 3-for-9. I thought white guards were supposed to be able to shoot. That's what they do, right? Shoot?

Andrea Bargnani: His 25-point discharge against the Knicks had me a little worried. I thought I was going to lose one of my favorite human dartboards. But, again, he is who we thought he was: 2 points (1-for-5) and 3 turnovers. Not his worst game by any stretch of the imagination, but it merits Worst of the Night mention since it immediately followed so many foolishly raised expectations.

Kirk Hinrich: Captain Kirk set his phaser to "suck" last night, scoring zero points (0-for-2) to go along with 2 assists and 3 turnovers in 11 minutes of playing time. Oh, and did I mention he got tossed near the end of the first half for arguing with referee Monty McCutchen that a loose ball was knocked out of bounds by Jason Kidd. Getting yourself ejected when your team is up by 30 is kind of stupid, but getting thrown out when your team is in a dog fight against a good team on the road is [puts on Bill Walton hat] selfish, irresponsible, self-aggrandizing, and just plain terrible.

Luol Deng: He scored 10 points on 3-for-9 shooting, which isn't the strongest case for Worst of the Night status, until you consider that John Paxson absolutely refused to trade for Kevin Garnett, Pau Gasol, or even Kobe Bryant if Deng was to be included in the trade. How'd that work out for you, Pax?

Bill Simmons: The man who consistently loses out to his wife on NFL picks bashed the Jason Kidd trade because Kidd can't shoot (5-for-7 last night), can't get to the hole anymore (3-for-4 on layups), can't make things any easier for Dirk (29 points, 10 rebounds), and Jerry Stackhouse is washed up (23 points, 7-for-11). Good calls, one and all, Bill. Sure, it's only one game, and it was against the Bulls. But still...

J.R. Smith: He faked Chauncey Billups out on a crossover and drew a foul with 6.5 seconds remaining and the Nuggets down by two. Then he went and gonked both freethrows and the Pistons went on to win 98-93. Hey, maybe the Detroit fans distracted hi...wait, what? They were playing in Denver? Never mind, then. Said Smith: "I feel awful." No. You feel basketbawful. Edit: My bad, guys and gals. Basketbawful reader Andrew correctly informed me that the Nuggets were down three when Smith got fouled on a three-point attempt. Smith made the first 'throw, boned the second, then intentionally missed the third. It is, nonetheless, still awful.

Marcus Camby: While I'm dissing on the Nuggets, let's not forget Mr. "I shoulda been an All-Star" Camby, who shot 1-for-8 last night. He was 0-for-1 on layups and 1-for-7 on jumpers. Only one of his shots -- the layup -- came in the paint. He's a center, right? Thinks he should have been an All-Star center, right? Okay. Just checking.

The Los Angeles Clippers: You know what? Forget it. They've been through enough.

Labels: Andrea Bargnani, Atlanta Hawks, Bill Simmons, Kirk Hinrich, Los Angeles Clippers, luol deng, Marcus Camby, Marquis Daniels, San Antonio Spurs

The Wounded Tiger is on the prowl.
Wounded Tiger Theory (woond'-ud ti'-ger thir'-e) noun. The theory that a basketball team (or any other sports team) tends to play harder and (at times) perform better despite the loss of one or more key players.

Usage example: The Phoenix Suns did everything they could Wednesday night to validate Dick Motta's old Wounded Tiger Theory. They came within a couple possessions of the fairy tale that the NBA's justice department was secretly -- but surely -- wishing for as much as the fuming locals waving those "Dirtier Than Dirt" signs, wearing "Stu Sucks" T-shirts and fully blaming the league for this predicament. [From Marc Stein's article For Suns, everything but a W.]

Word history: The term was coined (for use in basketball-related commentary) by Dick Motta. According to this Jimmy Burch article from the Fort Worth Star-Telegram: "Dick Motta, former coach of the Dallas Mavericks, loved to invoke the Wounded Tiger theory any time his team suffered a key injury or played an opponent missing a pivotal starter. Motta's theory, in a nutshell, suggests that the wounded tiger fights hardest, making it the most difficult jungle cat to subdue."

You say tomato, I say zucchini: Bill Simmons' Ewing Theory is probably an offshoot of Motta's Wounded Tiger Theory. The basic tenets of the Ewing Theory are identical to the Wounded Tiger, and it was created several years after Motta first explicated his doctrine (and it seems improbable that Simmons, a diehard sports zealot, would have been totally unaware of it). The main divergence in the two theories is that Motta believed that the team played better despite the missing player(s), while Simmons' theory seems to hold that the team improved because the missing player(s) received too much media attention, ruined team chemistry, or were vastly overrated to begin with.

Famous Wounded Tigers: You can read Simmons' Ewing Theory article for an expansive list of teams that qualify for Wounded Tiger status. But his list has one glaring omission, a team I would rank as the greatest ever example of the Wounded Tiger Theory: The 1993-94 Chicago Bulls. Michael Jordan retired (for the first time anyway), but the Bulls inserted Pete Myers into the lineup and barely missed a step. That team won 55 games -- only two fewer games than the previous championship season -- and they were a couple questionable calls away from heading to the Eastern Conference Finals. And the team that beat them, the New York Knicks, eventually made it all the way to the NBA Finals, where they lost a tough seven-game series to the Houston Rockets. When you think about it, it's not a huge stretch of the imagination to say that that Bulls team could have made it to the Finals, and could have competed with the Rockets, and even could have won it all (since they wouldn't have had to overcome John Starks' dreadful 2-for-18 shooting performance in Game 7). Nobody, and I mean nobody, expected that much from a team that replaced Michael Jordan with Pete Myers. And all the idiots who claim that Jordan did won all by himself -- yes, I'm talking to you, Chris Broussard -- really need to go back and review that season.

Wounded Tigers of Today: Take note, my friends. There are some Wounded Tigers roaming the NBA this season. Take the Portland Trailblazers, for example. They're missing Darius Miles. Sorry, I couldn't resist. But seriously, most people (myself included) wrote them off after Greg Oden's knee injury, but now they're breathing fire and leading their division (ahead of favorites like the Utah Jazz and Denver Nuggets). The Wizards of Washington have also shown a lot of spunk, and some seriously determined defensive intensity, in winning without Agent Zero. And make no mistake, at 22-17 they're nipping at the Magic's heels for the divisional lead. And if last night's dismantling of the Nuggets was any indication, I think there might be a Wounded Tiger on the prowl in L.A.

Labels: Bill Simmons, Chicago Bulls, Dick Motta, Portland Trailblazers, Washington Wizards