I get so many requests for more sports coverage here at R World. I try to be responsive to my reader, so here goes.
Business idea: little green hat labeled, "NBA Salary Cap." The optional t-shirt could read, "Doing my bit to support the home team: I kept my salary under $20 million this year."
I'm shopping a book on this topic now, but few people realize how close Obama came to making a package deal of the Russian - American spy for spy swap and simply trading LeBron James and Chris Bosh to Brazil for soccer players Kaka and Fabiano to raise our world standing.
LeBron James will get about $240,000 per game (or more than $8,000 per point at the rate he scores.) If he played just one game per year, his income would put him in the top 2% of Americans.
It's a pity that James did not sign with the Houston Rockets. He missed a major marketing opportunity there. It's hard to believe that anyone could have a cooler nickname than VonBron James.
Shaq is still active? I find this sort of amazing and mostly heartening. He must be in his 50s by now and the thought of him still playing at that age inspires me. It's amazing that a guy over 300 pounds who runs and jumps could have a career last longer than 98% of the rappers from his era.
I just love the fact that a guy whose nickname is King James took one hour to announce that he was playing for the Heat. He must use really old English to take that long to express something so simple. I could understand it taking an hour to tell his grandmother, for instance, but not to tell basketball fans.
"Grandma, I'm going to play for the Heat."
"What?"
"I've decided to play for the Heat."
"You've decided to play in the heat?"
"The team. The team is the heat."
"Why is it that every generation thinks they gotta make up new slang? Your grandpa would say, 'The team is so cool.' You say 'heat.' Well at least you are not as crude as your daddy and his friends. They'd have said, 'the team is the s**t.' There is no excuse for that."
"No. Grandma. I'm going to play for the Miami Heat."
"When you get to be my age, son, the Miami heat is reason enough NOT to play. A boy from Cleveland, like you, is likely to melt down there."
And on goes the conversation ...
Demetri Martin: “I used to like to watch sports a lot, but not as much anymore, ‘cause I’m always disappointed. I’d always rather see the actual animals fighting than the teams with those names. Colts vs Bears — yeah! Wizards vs Heat — freaking awesome! Magic vs Jazz — that’s a little too gay for me, I’m gonna pass on that one.”
Stay tuned for when LeBron takes on Harry Potter. Maybe Demetri Martin will do the color commentary.
R World (Ron Davison muses aloud)
Showing posts with label Houston Rockets. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Houston Rockets. Show all posts
08 July 2010
14 May 2009
Rockets Force Game 7!
My buddy Daryl, who has guest blogged here at R World, is in the news. His Houston Rockets have just forced the Lakers to game 7 of the playoffs. There is a fascinating article about Shane Battier and Daryl in last Sunday's New York Times' Magazine by Michael Lewis (author of Moneyball and Liar's Poker).
Just remember, you read about Daryl here at R World before you read about him in the New York Times. Do you need further proof that blogs live in the future that newspapers will write about?
Just remember, you read about Daryl here at R World before you read about him in the New York Times. Do you need further proof that blogs live in the future that newspapers will write about?
18 March 2008
The Rockets Run is Over
The best winning streak in the NBA since I've hit puberty is now over.
The Boston Celtics stopped the Rockets - making them feel the absence of Yao. The Rockets simply had no answer to the Celtic's big men.
I know that my buddy Daryl is disappointed. I also know that there is no other team he'd rather lose to. You see, before coming over to Houston to become their GM, Daryl's first job in the NBA was with the Celtics. As their COO, he was responsible for getting revenue, but he was already working with MIT profs on models for predicting which players were most likely to perform better than expected. He is not only fond of the Celtics organization but he had a hand in shaping the team. When he sees the Celtics, it’s not hard to imagine that he can see the Rocket's future a couple of years out.
Congratulations, Daryl. Just wait until next streak.
The Boston Celtics stopped the Rockets - making them feel the absence of Yao. The Rockets simply had no answer to the Celtic's big men.
I know that my buddy Daryl is disappointed. I also know that there is no other team he'd rather lose to. You see, before coming over to Houston to become their GM, Daryl's first job in the NBA was with the Celtics. As their COO, he was responsible for getting revenue, but he was already working with MIT profs on models for predicting which players were most likely to perform better than expected. He is not only fond of the Celtics organization but he had a hand in shaping the team. When he sees the Celtics, it’s not hard to imagine that he can see the Rocket's future a couple of years out.
Congratulations, Daryl. Just wait until next streak.
05 March 2008
Rockets Win Again with Rookie GM
The Houston Rockets just set a new team record tonight, winning their 16th game in a row. They've won 4 in a row without Yao, a remarkable feat even if it was not tacked onto such a streak. (No one in the NBA has had a longer winning streak this year.)
The New York Times wrote this about the Rockets' General Manager,
Although all this is probably true, it misses what I think is the more important point about Daryl's success.
I met Daryl about 12 years ago. At the time, he was a recent college grad fascinated by oddly obscure ideas like self adaptive complexity. We clicked (there are not too many people who share interests in systems dynamics or find the ideas behind them stimulating) and since then I've followed his career with an odd mix of pride and amazement. The reporters frequently comment on his great mind, but Daryl is simply a likeable and delightful person.
Before sitting in Fenway Park watching the Red Sox with Daryl, I fancied myself a baseball fan. Listening to Daryl casually debunk various "myths" of baseball and support his claims with data, I realized that I was not really a baseball fan: I had odd bits of knowledge and interest in the San Diego Padres and San Francisco Giants. I realized that Daryl's most off-handed comment carried more weight than anything I had thought about for years.
Daryl is not just adept at analyzing data and determining what it means. He lets the data take him where it will - whether that is to the most obvious or most counter-intuitive conclusion. He does not just do this with sports data. He has done this with his life. I don't think that I've ever met a person who seems less concerned with tradition - that of others or even his own. Daryl accepts what the data says and is willing to test plausible theories - in any domain. Years ago, he put me on his "board of advisors," a move that amused and flattered me and has come to mean even more as his career continues to thrive. (That he would name me to such a position is proof that he's not just comfortable with data but is comfortable with odd ideas.)
Daryl did not play basketball in college, much less the NBA. His father does not own a team nor work as a famous sports analyst. Daryl’s career has not just risen with amazing celerity - he has done it on his own merit. I rather doubt that his high school friends would have pegged him as "most likely to be an NBA GM by 35."
There is a great deal I admire about Daryl. Perhaps what makes him most unique is not his ability with numbers and statistics but his willingness to accept the reality those numbers represent. Analysis can be taught. I’m not sure that Daryl’s willingness to change in response to the analysis can be taught and it is that – more than the actual analysis – that seems to me the truly extraordinary thing about his life, his career and his performance.
And Daryl – congratulations on the winning streak. You may just want to tell reporters that you’ve tried winning and tried losing and you just can’t see any advantage to losing or even one good reason to lose again.
The New York Times wrote this about the Rockets' General Manager,
Morey, the rookie general manager of the Houston Rockets, is a wizard in the field of quantitative analysis, a friend of Billy Beane’s and a “Moneyball” true believer. He is the N.B.A.’s highest-ranking stat savant, the first mathematical magician to run a team.
Although all this is probably true, it misses what I think is the more important point about Daryl's success.
I met Daryl about 12 years ago. At the time, he was a recent college grad fascinated by oddly obscure ideas like self adaptive complexity. We clicked (there are not too many people who share interests in systems dynamics or find the ideas behind them stimulating) and since then I've followed his career with an odd mix of pride and amazement. The reporters frequently comment on his great mind, but Daryl is simply a likeable and delightful person.
Before sitting in Fenway Park watching the Red Sox with Daryl, I fancied myself a baseball fan. Listening to Daryl casually debunk various "myths" of baseball and support his claims with data, I realized that I was not really a baseball fan: I had odd bits of knowledge and interest in the San Diego Padres and San Francisco Giants. I realized that Daryl's most off-handed comment carried more weight than anything I had thought about for years.
Daryl is not just adept at analyzing data and determining what it means. He lets the data take him where it will - whether that is to the most obvious or most counter-intuitive conclusion. He does not just do this with sports data. He has done this with his life. I don't think that I've ever met a person who seems less concerned with tradition - that of others or even his own. Daryl accepts what the data says and is willing to test plausible theories - in any domain. Years ago, he put me on his "board of advisors," a move that amused and flattered me and has come to mean even more as his career continues to thrive. (That he would name me to such a position is proof that he's not just comfortable with data but is comfortable with odd ideas.)
Daryl did not play basketball in college, much less the NBA. His father does not own a team nor work as a famous sports analyst. Daryl’s career has not just risen with amazing celerity - he has done it on his own merit. I rather doubt that his high school friends would have pegged him as "most likely to be an NBA GM by 35."
There is a great deal I admire about Daryl. Perhaps what makes him most unique is not his ability with numbers and statistics but his willingness to accept the reality those numbers represent. Analysis can be taught. I’m not sure that Daryl’s willingness to change in response to the analysis can be taught and it is that – more than the actual analysis – that seems to me the truly extraordinary thing about his life, his career and his performance.
And Daryl – congratulations on the winning streak. You may just want to tell reporters that you’ve tried winning and tried losing and you just can’t see any advantage to losing or even one good reason to lose again.
31 October 2007
LA - Rhymes with Play
Last night I went to the Lakers home opener against the Houston Rockets. My buddy Daryl's first regular season game as the GM of the Houston Rockets. (What is Steven Wright’s line – I went to a general store but they wouldn’t let me buy anything specifically. Now my own friend Daryl is a guy who manages, but doesn’t manage anything specifically.) He invited us up for dinner and the game and we delightedly accepted.
The waiter said it is a busy night in this part of LA, telling us that there were three big events within just a few blocks. Mind you, this is a Tuesday. But then again, this is Los Angeles, the capital of entertainment. Even on a Tuesday there are a plethora of entertainment options.
At the Staple Center, the LA Lakers home opener. A very big deal. Sold out. RIGHT ACROSS THE STREET is a little concert venue – the Nokia Theater. A couple of guys are playing music there during our game – a couple of guys named Neil Young and Bruce Springsteen. But this is LA. That’s not all. The biggest draw in LA that night, according to our waiter? The Mayan Club. What is the Mayan Club, you ask (sounding just like me)? It’s where, once a year, they feature Mexican Midget Wrestling. MMW. This drama includes not just nasty contests between sweet little men – said men are occasionally thrown out of the ring and then thrown back in by the crowd. This is the hardest ticket in town to get. Suddenly, my excitement about watching the Lakers and Rockets is subdued. Bruce is in town? Neil? I don’t get “Hey, Hey, My, My?” or “Badlands?” And I don’t get to toss midgets? You expect me to have fun watching men in shorts when I know that this is going on so close by?
The game was exciting even though I was suddenly and acutely aware of what I was missing. The Lakers have Kobe Bryant, which is rather like having a stock portfolio made up entirely of Google - high performing, exciting returns, and a frightening lack of diversity. The Lakers are one twisted ankle away from being able to beat any NCAA team in the nation. Meanwhile, Daryl (I know - I'm biased) has already put together a team that has an enormous diversity of talent. The Rockets team continued to score points quite steadily, regardless of who played. (The Rockets had four players score in the double digits - the Lakers only two.)
And then the basketball gods decided to smile on Daryl. At one point, two Lakers were standing alone under the Rockets' rim, unable to get the handle on the ball when it, like an extra in a comedy, unexpectedly looped up into a surprising arc, falling neatly into the hoop, scoring two points for the Rockets. The Rockets' margin of victory? 2 points.
Entertainment seems to be one of the few industries in which we Americans run a trade surplus. As I drove home, coming to a complete stop at midnight (my darling wife looks up and announces, in stark contrast to rush "hour" typical of most places, "Hmm - rush day"), I realized that there is little that we Americans take more seriously than playing.
The waiter said it is a busy night in this part of LA, telling us that there were three big events within just a few blocks. Mind you, this is a Tuesday. But then again, this is Los Angeles, the capital of entertainment. Even on a Tuesday there are a plethora of entertainment options.
At the Staple Center, the LA Lakers home opener. A very big deal. Sold out. RIGHT ACROSS THE STREET is a little concert venue – the Nokia Theater. A couple of guys are playing music there during our game – a couple of guys named Neil Young and Bruce Springsteen. But this is LA. That’s not all. The biggest draw in LA that night, according to our waiter? The Mayan Club. What is the Mayan Club, you ask (sounding just like me)? It’s where, once a year, they feature Mexican Midget Wrestling. MMW. This drama includes not just nasty contests between sweet little men – said men are occasionally thrown out of the ring and then thrown back in by the crowd. This is the hardest ticket in town to get. Suddenly, my excitement about watching the Lakers and Rockets is subdued. Bruce is in town? Neil? I don’t get “Hey, Hey, My, My?” or “Badlands?” And I don’t get to toss midgets? You expect me to have fun watching men in shorts when I know that this is going on so close by?
The game was exciting even though I was suddenly and acutely aware of what I was missing. The Lakers have Kobe Bryant, which is rather like having a stock portfolio made up entirely of Google - high performing, exciting returns, and a frightening lack of diversity. The Lakers are one twisted ankle away from being able to beat any NCAA team in the nation. Meanwhile, Daryl (I know - I'm biased) has already put together a team that has an enormous diversity of talent. The Rockets team continued to score points quite steadily, regardless of who played. (The Rockets had four players score in the double digits - the Lakers only two.)
And then the basketball gods decided to smile on Daryl. At one point, two Lakers were standing alone under the Rockets' rim, unable to get the handle on the ball when it, like an extra in a comedy, unexpectedly looped up into a surprising arc, falling neatly into the hoop, scoring two points for the Rockets. The Rockets' margin of victory? 2 points.
Entertainment seems to be one of the few industries in which we Americans run a trade surplus. As I drove home, coming to a complete stop at midnight (my darling wife looks up and announces, in stark contrast to rush "hour" typical of most places, "Hmm - rush day"), I realized that there is little that we Americans take more seriously than playing.
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