Site news...BJD has moved

The day has finally arrived.

I'll be moving full time to Fanster, the site formerly known as AZ Sports Hub. Matt and Greg have been hard at work putting together a leaner and meaner site, and have done a great job with it.

Here is the direct link to BJD's new home. Please be sure and update your feed, your bookmark, or make a mental note, smartypants.

The season is almost upon us, so expect great things from BJD, Fanster, and hopefully the Suns.

Fantasy Camp Fallout

Looks like I've caused a bit of a stir with my post from this morning.

Henry at TrueHoop ran with it, the great Paul Coro at the Arizona Republic noticed, and even Ziller from AOL Fanhouse picked up on it.

So what's all the hubbub, bub?

I had the pleasure of emailing a couple of times with Coro and then speaking with him for a half hour or so this afternoon. Great man, that Paul Coro.

Turns out Mr. Welts had heard about the blog post through the grapevine and gave Paul a friendly denial when he inquired further, that he meant Matt Barnes could start for Grant Hill down the road and not at the beginning of the season. Coro checked in with me to be sure I wasn't completely full of it and that I was certain I heard what I heard.

I'm very certain. I may not have recorded Mr. Welts' speaking, but my mind is like a not yet dull steel trap. I know what was said.

The moral of the story is, well, I'm not sure.

I do feel bad for putting Mr. Welts' in a bit of a tough spot. If Kerr and Co. have been discussing this move for some time as Coro said, I can't imagine Coach Porter is very pleased with the news coming out this way.

Needless to say, it's been a rather interesting day here at BJD. Now all I have to do is continue to tell myself to stay away from the comments on Coro's blog.

Bunch of savages in this town.

The funny thing is, as Stan from Bright Side of the Sun said, everyone is completely missing the point. Giving the Gorilla a two-handed high five is the real story here.

Tired Legs and Phoenix Suns Fantasy Camp

I was fortunate enough to attend a Phoenix Suns fantasy camp earlier this week. The best line I've heard so far about my participation in the event was from my coworker when she asked, "is that for adults?"

Think what you want about these type of things but know this: they're a good time. A really good time.

The day started off with registration and various legal mumbo jumbo. After assuring the corporate sponsor and the Suns that I wouldn't come back to haunt them if my hamstring exploded, a team representative led us downstairs to the visitors locker room.

After burying my desire to firebomb the room the Chicago Bulls celebrated a championship in, I found the locker with my name above it. There was a brand-spanking new, Shaquille O'Neal Suns home jersey in it. While I would surely prefer an Amare or Nash, or even Raja jersey, this was still pretty damn cool.

We head to the main court (did I mention we're in US Airways Center?) and are able to shoot around for a bit. Eventually, Tim Kempton, former Suns benchwarmer and current radio color analyst for Suns broadcasts comes to center court and gathers us around. Tom Leander (Suns play by play announcer for away games,) John Shumate (former Sun and current head scout,) and the great Alvan Adams soon join him. These four gentlemen will be our coaches for the afternoon.

We're broken up in two groups, orange jerseys and white jerseys. We white jerseys follow Shumate and Leander downstairs to the practice court, where we're divided into two more groups. Shumate will run us through defensive drills and Leander will run us through shooting drills.

We visited Leander after Shumate, and his part of the clinic was more casual and relaxed. Layup drills, pick and pop, things like that. Nice and easy.

Shumate, on the other hand, made us work, and had fun doing it. I haven't had to "break it down" since high school. I blame him for my still tired legs but can't hold a grudge. The man is a joy to be around.

Next up was Alvan Adams and some tips on passing and rebounding. Adams is about the nicest guy you'd ever want to meet. He even ably handled a Laker fan in our midst (lets call her CT,) a woman who refused to wear the O'Neal jersey "because she HATES Shaquille O'Neal and LOVES Kobe Bryant."

Once our time was up with Alvan Adams, we moved down to Tim Kempton's side of the court where we worked on our ball-handling. Getting ball-handling tips from a 7-footer was a first for me, but Kempton did a nice job and moves much better than I originally gave him credit for.

The clinic portion of the day complete, we're given a much needed break. While myself and the rest of my fellow out of shape basketball fans are toweling off and attempting Gatorade IVs, Cedric Ceballos strolls to center court, and the Suns Dancers and Gorilla appear in the tunnel.

Turns out that before our full court, four quarter scrimmage, Ced will introduce us one by one, the lights will go out, and the standard Suns intro will play on the scoreboard and the speakers while the dancers gyrate and the Gorilla does his thing.

In the midst of grinning ear to ear and soaking it all in, I hear Ced bellow out my name, my cue to run to center court, give the Gorilla a high five, and pose for a picture with the Suns Dancers, the Gorilla, and our four coaches for the day.

To say this was the highlight of the day to this point would be selling it short.

Unfortunately, we were soon brought down to earth again, because it was scrimmage time. Four ten minute quarters, where despite plenty of substitutions and breaks in the action, my legs would turn to rubber and not one of my three attempted shots would fall.

By the fourth quarter every attendee save for a few with young legs was totally gassed. One of these young'uns broke free for an uncontested layup late in the game but to help keep things close and to probably knock this young man down a peg or two, Alvan Adams casually strolled onto the court, slapped the ball out of the kids' hands on his way up, and cool as a cucumber walked off the court. When you're in the Suns Ring of Honor you're allowed to do those type of things.

Last but not least, after cleaning up from the scrimmage, we were served delicious food and ice cold beer, while Rick Welts, the Suns President and Chief Operation Officer, spoke to us about the direction of the franchise on the business end of things and what to expect from the team this season.

Welts was fantastic.

After listening to him speak and engage us, it's easy to see how the man has been so successful in everything he has done. He's very, very excited for the upcoming All-Star Weekend, and looks forward to the Suns proving the media and their predictions wrong.

Welts explained that earlier in the day all the owners came to the arena to watch the team practice and after discussions with the coaching staff, they agreed the team had ably filled its three biggest holes:

-Robin Lopez is a big body in the paint who will bring energy, toughness, and rebounding, and will be a guy who can easily step in for Shaq if/when the big man goes down.

-Goran Dragic is better than advertised and there's very good reason the Suns' scouts have been drooling over his talent and what he brings to the table.

-in a roundabout way, Matt Barnes adds depth to the team, as he will be starting and Grant Hill will move to the bench this season.

This last point just about floored everyone in attendance, but it sounds like this is what Coach Porter and Hill want to do.

Once again, Welts was fantastic, and I very much enjoyed listening to him. What's more, he took a great number of questions and answered each and every one in great detail.

After he had the chance to knock a few softballs out of the park, I threw him another one and asked if there was any concern for Amare going elsewhere after exercising his early termination option in 2010, despite the fact that the collective bargaining agreement allows the Suns to offer him the most money.

Welts was very direct in answering my question, letting us know that Amare has always been part of the Suns family and always will be. The team will be taking a proactive approach to his next contract and hopes to get something done before the option can even enter the discussion.

Thrilled to have listened to Welts and been a part of a great day, I gingerly walked to my car, Shaquille O'Neal jersey and picture of me with the Suns dancers and those other guys in hand.

Stalking Steve Nash: or How I Learned to Start Worrying About How my Wife Spends her Spare Time

For whatever reason, my wife decided to look Steve Nash up in a local directory this evening. It turns out he is actually listed. Thinking her behavior wasn't creepy enough already, she punched his address into Zillow, a popular online real estate site where satellite pictures of homes are often available.

According to Zillow, anyone can upload a picture to their site:

Anyone can upload photos of a house — owners, agents, neighbors — anyone! Since Zillow is a community site, we want everyone to contribute — even your neighbors or someone who has lived in the house 20 years ago. Photos uploaded by owners and agents will show up first. Also, community-uploaded photos cannot be deleted, but if you see something that doesn't look right or is inappropriate, please click the "Flag content" link and Zillow Customer Support will review it.

Here (warning: strange nudity) is the picture of Nash's home as provided by Zillow. Enjoy.

It definitely doesn't look right and I don't think it's all that appropriate, but I'm hesitant to "flag" the content. It's so utterly ridiculous, it almost deserves to stay.



edit: I removed the direct Zillow link that contained Nash's address because let's face it, that isn't cool.

I saw Robert Sarver at Dunkin' Donuts today

My daughters and I walked into the Dunkin' Donuts this morning at Scottsdale and Shea to find the man who signs the checks for the Phoenix Suns sitting at the front table, surrounded by a bunch of kids.

I'll admit that upon seeing him I momentarily froze, as the last person I expected to see enjoying a delicious eclair at my local donut hole was Robert Sarver.

He gave me a bit of strange look as I came in, perhaps because he'd never seen a Bad Brains t-shirt before. I can't imagine Mormon bankers are exposed to much hardcore goodness in their lives.

Either that or I was staring. I may have been staring.

He and his brood left soon after my daughters and I placed our order, but not until he meticulously cleaned the table they used. As I sat waiting for our deep-fried balls of sugared dough to be boxed, I knew I had made the right decision.

I thought to say something stupid like "keep up the good work" or "nice job with the Dragic deal" or even "I write a ridiculous Suns blog called Black Jesus Disciples, can I buy you a cup of coffee?" for about half a second, but thought better of it.

He and I didn't get up early on Labor Day to talk about the Suns, or in his case, tell someone to get lost. Our kids wanted donuts.

A Stroll Down Memory Lane, Starring Tom Chambers, Steve Nash and Eddie House

I've had a few run-ins with various Suns players in my life. I've detailed a couple previously, and seeing as we're smack dab in the middle of the offseason and I'm doing nothing but sulking over not being in Vegas for the summer league, I figured today would be good as any to revisit a couple more chance encounters with members of the Suns.

First, the great Tom Chambers. I was just a kid so the details are pretty fuzzy, but my dad was able to get us a meeting with Chambers before the game in the depths of the Madhouse on McDowell. Now that I think about it, it wasn't all that exciting.

I remember thinking Chambers was some sort of giant but not much else stands out from the meeting. So I guess what I'm saying is, this post SUCKS so far.

Onto Steve Nash and his sidekick Eddie House. I'm at the World Baseball Classic at Chase Field, and the US is playing Canada. I started the game off sitting at Friday's Front Row with a friend from work and our boss, but as the game went on and my boss had to catch a plane, I moved down a bit.

Actually, I moved down a lot. A family friend has the best seats in the house: on the corner of the home dugout closest to home, first row, on the aisle. As I sat down with my dad and his two friends they told me to me look. over. there.

I glanced to my left to find Steve Nash and Eddie House enjoying the game with what looked to be a number of Nash's Canadian friends. I say these gentlemen were Canadian not because they were proudly flashing socialized healthcare cards, guzzling maple syrup, and sporting nothing but denim, but because they were letting the American players have it and cheering wildly for the Canadian players.

They were also drinking beer. Lots and lots and lots of beer. Well, at least Eddie was. For being a pretty slight man, he can put down $9 beers with the best of them. I don't think he quite drank a perfect game but it was a quality start nonetheless.

As for Nash, the guy was there having fun and enjoying the game. He was definitely in his element, as he and his friends were having a grand ol' time. When he took off in the 7th inning or so (Canada was still in control at that point,) he was escorted out by security because I kid you not, people were acting like he was Jesus and hoping to touch the hem of his garment.

And really, that's about it. Here's a quick recap:

-Tom Chambers - tall
-Eddie House - likes beer
-Steve Nash - Jesus

Sounds about right.





To read about basketball and the Suns summer league, be sure to check back with Stan at Bright Side of the Sun, because again, he's in Vegas, and we're not.

Rodney Rogers: Mountain of a Man

6' 7", 270 pounds. That's what his NBA page says. The NBA must have some bad information though because my eyes have seen Rodney Rogers up close and in person, and I assure you he was ten stories high if he was a foot.

For a number of years, I worked at The Home Depot. One summer afternoon in 2001 I happened to run into the one and only Rodney Rogers as he shopped for tree stakes in the garden department. At the time, Rodney was my favorite Suns player, as Cliff Robinson had been unceremoniously exiled in the offseason for being too awesome.

It's not every day you get to see one of your favorite athletes up close and in person. As fans we're usually lucky if our seats are in the lower bowl. Yet here before me was the '99 Sixth Man of the Year, a guy who possessed a silky-smooth lefty shooting stroke and who was affectionately known (especially in college) as Monster Mash.

Rodney needed help with tree stakes, as it was monsoon season in Arizona. As he grabbed one I noticed what looked huge in a mere mortal's hands was nothing more than a toothpick in his. Rodney was a big, big dude.

Sadly, that was it. I answered a question or two for the big man, he thanked me and went on his way. Rather boring now that I've typed it out.

However, my point stands. Rodney Rogers was the man, yet another extremely likable player with a stop in Phoenix. I'd put him ahead of Sleepy Sam and Chris Bosh on the list of left-handed power forwards from the ACC (criteria are mine.)

I Used to Hate Mark Jackson's Guts

It's a good thing I changed my ways, because there's a chance he'll be the next coach of the Suns (I'll stick with the guy who used to wear taped glasses as my prediction.) Enough of this coach talk though, take a seat on the carpet, grab your favorite pillow and blanket and get comfortable. It's story time.

I'm sitting on a friend's couch, getting ready for the start of a Finals game between the Lakers and Pacers in the year 2000. Before the game NBC has a feature on Mark Jackson (the Pacers point guard at the time) and his dad. There's a quick promotion for it and they cut to commercial.

My friends and I use this time to complain about Mark Jackson and his game, especially his need to back down his man on what seemed like every possession. This made me insane at the time and looking back, it still does.

The commercials stop, the fantastic NBA on NBC music kicks on and we're all ready for this story to begin so we can rip on Jackson even more. What happened next wasn't exactly what we planned for.

I don't recall the specifics, but Jackson's dad had recently passed away and he and his father had an incredibly strong relationship. Within 30 seconds of the piece starting, we all had our mouths shut and were listening intently to Jackson speak about his father and how much he meant to him.

This wasn't your standard ESPN Sunday Conversation nonsense, this was a very, very moving story, with a man pouring his heart out on national TV. When NBC cut to commercial as the segment reached its conclusion, I looked around the room at my half dozen friends and they were all doing the same thing I was...gulping hard and fighting back tears.

The moral of the story? While it's easy to hate the guts of a player (Kobe, Manu, Parker, Duncan...), it's also easy to respect them. Sometimes it just takes a sappy but moving background story to help us in the right direction. I don't know if the Suns will hire Mark Jackson but if they do so, his character will never be questioned at any point in his tenure.

if anyone can find the video, let me know. I'd love to see it again, especially to find out if it's as good as I remember

The Suns Leadership Vacuum

Michael from Bright Side of the Sun was good enough to participate in a discussion with me today on a number of topics. Here's how I started things off:

"The Suns put together an almost historically brutal 3rd quarter against the Spurs in the second game of their first-round playoff series. If it weren't for Shaq making his free throws and rendering Hack-a-Shaq useless, the Suns are lucky to total double digits in those forgettable 12 minutes.

Clearly, this was the turning point of the game, as the Spurs were able to once again dig out of a hole, throwing the Suns into a hole of their own in the process.

Who's to blame?

It's been suggested Amare's disappearance is reason #1 the Suns failed to close the deal in Game 2 but I beg to differ. I realize he hit just two shots in the second half (a tip-in and a meaningless 3-pointer in the last minute of the game) but there was quite a bit more going on in this contest than Amare dominating in the first half and being kept in check in the second.

The Suns as a whole came out sloppy and with a lack of focus in the second half, whereas the Spurs regained their focus and made effective adjustments on both ends of the court. Nash had just one assist after the intermission. In the 4th quarter Coach D gave the Spurs a steady diet of an inefficient Boris Diaw on the block (note to Coach D: Boris exploits big men much better than he does small, as he can outquick them. We all know power isn't Boris' game.) And again, Amare couldn't hit water falling out of a boat.

The entire Suns squad stunk it up in that third quarter, not just Amare. As we all know, when the Suns are going good, it's incredibly fun to watch. When they're not firing on all cylinders, it doesn't get much uglier. Every cylinder misfired, not just the Black Jesus model."

Bright Side of the Sun:

Michael's original post
Gimlet (gim•let): 1. A small tool with a screw point, grooved shank, and cross handle for boring holes

Gimlet-eyed: 1. Sharp-sighted; 2. Having a piercing stare

The Phoenix Suns cannot let a 2-0 hole get them down. It is ugly, yes, but they must, in fact, refuse to acknowledge that the is even a hole there. In fact, they should see right through it to the prize on the other side.

We have seen our worst enemy and it is not Tim Duncan or Tony Parker or Manu Ginobili or the myriad easy looks at the hoop they got. It's not Bruce Bowen's occasionally dirty defense or Michael Finley's sudden rejuvenation. The real enemy is the Phoenix Suns themselves. This is true now. It has been true the last 3 years. And it will be true again if they do not face themselves down. It is Leandro Barbosa going 0-7. It is Shaquille O'Neal losing his man on the break for an easy 2. It is Steve Nash insisting on going behind the back in the lane because he is not taking the shots the Spurs give him. It is Boris Diaw, failing to convert 4 straight shots over mismatches in the lane. It's Mike D'Antoni, not drawing up plays to get Nash or Stoudemire the ball when the game is on the line. (Via Hardwood Paroxysm.) It is Amare Stoudemire, not realizing that an MVP does more than score 30 points a night. Hell, 'Nique did that and how many rings did he get?

You know who it's not? Raja Bell going 2-7 and grabbing 5 rebounds. Those stats belie that fact that he plays his guts out every night and takes care of business. Some nights the shots fall and others they don't, but he never forgets who he is and what he is supposed to do once he takes the court. Most importantly, I don't think he forgets why he's out there. He's not there to beat the Spurs. Raja Bell has gimlet eyes. He doesn't see Manu Ginobili or Tony Parker. He sees the ring on the other side of them.

Steve Nash has gimlet eyes but facilitates instead of dominates. Amare Stoudemire confuses gimlet eyes with with thundering, but ultimately meaningless dunks. Shaquille O'Neal has gimlet eyes, but no longer has the skills to carry a team. Barbosa never had them (let's face this: The Suns have a Sixth Man, the Spurs have a Sixth Hombre.) Diaw can't find them and D'Antoni can't coach them.

The Spurs have them in spades. Pop knows what he is doing. His boys got ice in their veins. His boys got discipline. His boys got execution. What his boys don't got is nerves. His boys don't see their opponents and can't be rattled by them. They see the gold and the glory that is past them and keep on marching.

And let me tell you, it does not do the Phoenix Suns a lick of good for Raja Bell to have gimlet eyes when the rest of them do not. Steve Nash will find his, if D'Antoni lets him. I don't worry about him.

Amare Stoudemire, though, I call you out. You want to be MVP? You want to get your foot in that door? Then turn that 25 point first half into a 50 point game. Refuse to lose. Lead. This. Team. Realize that a final score is more important than a box score. Nash might be the quarterback, but it's your turn to be the general. Nash says he is passing the torch to you . And when (or perhaps, if) you claim that torch, you have no choice but to lead your team from darkness of disappointment to the light of a championship or let it burn your hand off trying. Lead. This. Team. Kevin Garnett has them (and we could have had him!). You'll have to pry a ring from his cold dead hand. You want your name mentioned with his? Be like him. Lead. This. Team.

Right now, the championship goes through San Antonio, and eventually through Boston. Make it go through you. You are gifted. Freakishly gifted. You've got the potential to be Karl Malone, Shawn Kemp and Charles Barkley rolled into one. And that's great, if you don't mind never winning a ring. But if you want to hold the Larry O'Brien, you've got to channel Larry Bird, Michael Jordan, and Magic Johnson. Contest everything; concede nothing. This is your series, STAT, your legacy. If averaging 30 a night is your goal, then do us all a favor and hang that "Mission Accomplished" banner already. But if being the best, if truly being Number 1 is your goal, then find your gimlet eyes and see through the highlights and the numbers to your destiny behind them. KG sees it this year. And as I said, you will have to pry that ring from his cold dead hand. My question is do you have it in you to make him or anyone else pry it from yours?

Black Jesus Disciples:

Well hell, Michael, you're preaching to the choir on this one. You're right, Amare needs to grab the proverbial bull by the horns and wrestle it to the ground. He needs to take the next step as a leader and put this team on his back and lead them to victory. Amare has to dig deep and set the tone at both ends of the floor if this team is to climb out of the hole they've put themselves in.

Let's go ahead and swap Amare with KG for a moment then, as he's the gold standard for leadership and certified insanity on the hardwood. Do the Suns score 11 points in the third quarter with KG on the floor? Do Tony Parker and Manu Ginobli continue to get easy buckets at the rim with KG patrolling the paint?

It's fair to say a leader like KG would prevent the situation from becoming so dire but when a team crashes and burns as badly as the Suns did in that pivotal third quarter, General Patton could be running the point and it wouldn't matter.

What would you have Amare do?

Bright Side of the Suns:

It's true, the Suns as a whole melted down. Leandrinho can't be going 0-7 against the Heat in the first game of the season, much less in a Game 2 vs. the Spurs and if the Suns are going to give it to Boris to exploit a mismatch, then he better deliver.

Here's where I think the KG insanity would come into play. KG is constantly, constantly, in the face, ear, or up the ass of his teammates from wire to wire. If he's on the floor, he's congratulating, encouraging, or putting the fear of God into the likes of Rajon Rondo and Leon Powe. From the bench, he's like Mark Madsen, but you know, with the ability to play NBA basketball. It's not simply the focus of his intensity, it's the infectiousness of it and his willingness to spread it like that monkey in "Outbreak." I don't see any of this from Stoudemire.

He's now in his 6th year (5th if you want to write off the microfracture season) as a pro. He may not have the gravitas or experience of a KG, but he would certainly do well to show some of the fire in the belly. Maybe next year he makes The Leap. But these are the times when leaders rise to the occasion.

So to answer your question, would the Suns score 11 points in the 3rd quarter with KG? Maybe, but the difference would be that the Suns would have been inspired to hold the Spurs to less than 27.

So, back at you, if the blame does not rest entirely with STAT, what player or aspect of their game do the Suns need a boost from so the load isn't on Amare?

Black Jesus Disciples:

You're absolutely right, Amare hasn't shown a fraction of the fire KG does on the court. To be honest, I'm not so sure he has the huevos to lead in that fashion. Not many do. Only a select few in the basketball world are as batshit crazy as KG.

If the Leap were to occur in the next four games, the timing would be impeccable. To channel Rage Against the Machine:

"It has to start somewhere, It has to start sometime
What better place than here, what better time than now?"

No one wants to see STAT drop 50 on Duncan and Co. more than I do. He's definitely capable but to do so he needs the ball in his hands. It's no coincidence he put up 25 in the first half when he was the first option on offense. I didn't see that in the second half.

Chalk it up to lockdown defense from the Spurs, place the blame on Coach D for not making adjustments, but when arguably the best player on the court suddenly becomes the third option on offense, it's increasingly difficult for that player to take over a game.

This is probably the point where you're thinking "fine, for whatever reason, things aren't happening on the offensive end, affect the outcome of the game in a different manner. Rebound the damn ball! Make it impossible for your man to put the ball in the basket!"

It's something we're all waiting for from Amare. The Leap we're discussing doesn't just entail leadership qualities, it's becoming the total package and exerting maximum effort in all aspects of the game. On this point we can only continue to wait and hope.

As for who needs to step up or who should carry the load, I'll again point the finger to the team as a whole. Take a look at our opposition. Duncan was his usual steady, consistent, annoying self in Game 1 and the Spurs took the win due to his contributions and the two-headed monster that is Tony Parker/Manu Ginobli. However, what can't be forgotten, is Brent Barry coming off the bench and drilling a three, or Michael Finley suddenly catching fire in the 4th quarter.

These guys don't panic. Think about Game 2 as another example. They come out of the half, suddenly figure it out on defense, get Finley immediately involved and ride that wave of success to victory.

The Suns on the other hand looked disjointed and well, panicky, because what worked so well in the first half simply wasn't working anymore. TNT cut to Coach D mic'd up and caught him screaming "don't panic guys! Don't panic!" Unfortunately, they did just that, with Coach D ignoring his own advice as well.

Boris Diaw on the block a dozen times in a row? Going away from the 4th quarter bread and butter of the Amare/Nash pick and roll, that's panic. Steadfastly refusing to trap San Antonio's pick and roll or go underneath, that's panicking.

Rather than following Coach D's lead and just believing they're the better team despite being down 0-2, this team needs to stop waiting for the other shoe to drop, get the Spurs out of their kitchen, and just friggin' do it.

So after all that babbling, I've only somewhat answered your question and in the process strengthened your point for the need of a Suns leader. I know it sure as hell isn't Coach D (at least at this point) and Shaq seems to be content to lead only when the team is winning.

So why not our two-time MVP, Steve Nash? Doesn't he set the tone for the team? Shouldn't he lead by example? Doesn't the team catch fire when he looks for his shot?

Bright Side of the Sun:

I couldn't agree with you more on the panic factor. This is probably where a healthy Grant Hill would have helped. Another veteran floor leader and go-to guy would have mitigated a lot of the poor decision making on offense.

Admittedly, I've been pretty easy on Nash. The Sixty Million Dollar Man was absolutely smothered by Bruce Bowen in the second half. Until Amare makes The Leap, he's the guy that needs to get the No-Effing-Way-We're-Losing-This-Game Face. I would have preferred to see him looking for his own shot rather than trying to get Amare going with those 3 behind-the-back-in-traffic passes that resulted in turnovers. Or I would have liked to see him sacrifice some of the flash and subterfuge in order to insure a completion to Amare as a way of saying, "Here's the ball, now show'em what you got." But there is no denying that when Nash finds his shot, it has a way of inspiring the rest of the team (I'm looking at you, Raja Bell.).

But back to my point with Amare. He opened his mouth about being an MVP candidate without having much of a resume beyond STATs to back it up. If he wants a seat at the table, now is the time to earn it. Chris Paul, in his 2nd year, is demonstrating more leadership than Amare, and for that matter, Steve Nash. And, while I'm at it, where's Shaq in all this? I know, he's The Big Role Player now, but isn't championship poise (Oh, man, I can't wait for Bill Walton to start calling games) one of the reasons they brought him in? And, of course, Coach D is great at coaching his system, but is routinely out-adjusted by Popovich

The Suns have a leadership vacuum right now and no one seems to be (visibly) stepping up to fill it. And until they do, I think we can expect to see more stretches in games where they seem to be rudderless and overwhelmed. I'm challenging Amare to make it his team now, and I think the Suns should as well.

Black Jesus Disciples

Michael, thanks again for participating in the discussion. It's abundantly clear the Suns needs a shot in the arm of some sort if they're to do the unthinkable and win this series over the hated Spurs. Someone needs to step up. If Amare can make the Leap and do so, we're in great shape. If not, the onus is on the rest of the squad to shake the monkey off their back.

I Am Los Suns...

All other Western Conference teams must bow before the Suns. Yo soy Los Suns. For those of you who don't habla espanol, Los Suns is spanish for...

the Suns.

Uncle Cliffy

Cliff Robinson has always been one of my favorite NBA players, both as part of those tough to hate TrailBlazers teams with Clyde, Jerome Kersey, Terry Porter and Duckworth, and of course as a high-scoring, 50-point dropping Sun.

What drew me to Uncle Cliffy? Look no further than the headband (and maybe the red and black color scheme of the Blazers.) In Cliff's heydey, NO ONE sported the headband. I'm sure there were a couple of guys here and there but Cliff was the trendsetter, the OG if you will. As his career wound down, the headband made a stunning comeback and now damn near every player has rocked one at some point or another in their career. Cliff shouldn't be forgotten if for no reason other than making the headband cool again.

Note to current NBA players: when you put the logo right between your eyes, it looks stupid. Very stupid.

So why this sudden reminiscing when there's a huge game against the Celtics tonight? I say why not.

Some quick, interesting stats from Cliff's career:
-He became the oldest player at 33 years of age and two months to register his first 50-point game
-Won NBA Sixth Man of the Year with a record 90.8% of the vote after he averaged 19.1 points, 6.6 rebounds and career-best 1.99 blocks
-Robinson was currently one of only two players drafted in the 1980s still active in the league in 2007,[3] with the other being Kevin Willis
-At 6'10", he is the tallest player to make more than 1,000 three-pointers
-arrested for marijuana possession and DUI in 2001...and failed a couple drug tests in 2005 resulting in a suspension.

That last note isn't all that surprising, at least not for me. You see, Cliff Robinson and I have some history together. Not really, but here goes...

When going outside for an early morning butt with a friend after waking up from an all night drunk at a friend's house in a shady part of Scottsdale, we noticed the nicest Mercedes Benz we had ever seen parked just two spots from our buddy's front door. With the awe-inspiring Benz having dropped our jaws to the floor, we were at first oblivious to the tall, skinny and very well-dressed man walking towards the Benz.

Suddenly, my buddy elbowed me in the side, mumbling something that sounded like "Cliff Robinson...Cliff Robinson." I looked up from the Benz and sure enough, there was Uncle Cliffy strolling towards us after exiting an apartment owned by a person who could be best characterized as "a lady of the night."

Instead of telling the two hungover and wake and bake idiots to get away from his car, he flashed a sly grin, said "good morning, fellas" and got into his Benz. After a quick wave he was gone, leaving us to go completely apeshit over having seen Cliff Robinson up close and personal, post-dirty-Scottsdale sex romp.

I don't know if Cliff was married at the time and I don't really care. Who am I to judge a guy who led the 1999 Suns in scoring? This was Uncle Cliffy, who along with Monster Mash, was my favorite Sun at the time. This sounds silly, but at that point in my life, seeing Cliff, in my element no less, was an all-time great moment for me.

Of course, he went and fucked up a good thing in Phoenix by getting arrested not far from where I saw him, resulting in Colangelo jettisoning him to Detroit, ushering in a rebuilding era...that's turned out pretty well so far.