A Love Letter

Dear Kevin,

I didn’t sleep much last night, and, well, you’ve been on my mind a lot lately.  So perhaps telling you how I feel, or at least putting these feelings into words, will help me to rest a little bit easier.

It’s been a tough couple of months, to be honest.  Since it became clear back in May that you wanted to leave, I’ve gone through what seems to be the usual string of emotions.  First, denial: I didn’t believe it was true, didn’t want to believe it.  Then, anger.  Then, sadness and resignation.  And now, well, I just feel numb.

It didn’t help when you visited Boston.  I guess I never thought about what it’d be like to see you with someone else.  But there you were, hanging with Rajon Rondo, Rob Gronkowski, and who knows who else.  Let me tell you, Kevin, it hurt.  There’s just no way around it.

I’ll never forget the day you came into my life.  Sure, I’d known about you, known that you were a high school phenom in Oregon and a star freshman at UCLA.  But it wasn’t until June 27, 2008, my 23rd birthday, when Kevin McHale traded for you and our lives really began together.  You were the best birthday present a guy could ask for, really.

I admit, I wasn’t convinced, at least initially.  I really wanted Derrick Rose or Mike Beasley, but O.J. Mayo was a stud himself, and #3 was the highest we’ve ever picked, and we needed a stud.  I wasn’t sure he was worth giving up for you, but hey, we got Mike Miller out of the deal and got rid of Marko Jaric, so I was in (even if it meant Marko’s gf wouldn’t be around).

But you eventually won me over, first with your efforts on the boards and then your outside shooting.  That night when you grabbed 30 rebounds to go along with 30 points, the Target Center was a different place.  There was an energy that had not been enjoyed since the days of that other Kevin.  For a little while there, you made us forget about the other Kevin.  I really mean that.

When a man fills up the boxscore to historic proportions, night after night, when he plays a key role on an Olympic Gold Medal team (defensively, even!), when all inclinations are that he’ll sign a long term contract where nobody wants to sign a long-term contract, it’s hard not to fall in Love.

And I did, Kevin, I fell for you.  Hard.  And that’s what makes this hurt so bad.

And since we’re being honest, it was Love that made me overlook your imperfections.  The lackluster effort on defense.  The complete unwillingness to foul somebody.  The multiple possessions a game where you didn’t bother to cross half court to join your team on defense.  The curious habit of the best rebounder in the game excusing himself from offensive rebound opportunities on opponents’ free throws, in order to get to the other end of the court without having to… jog?

Not to mention your complete unwillingness to pass up a somewhat uncontested jump shot to pass to a more-open teammate.  More forgivable, given that none of your teammates could hit a jump shot, even a more-open one.  But still.

No, I knew you weren’t perfect.  And sure, there was a sneaking feeling that you were a player capable of incredible stats yet incapable of helping his team finish in the top 16 out of 30 teams.  But you were a Timberwolf, and I loved you for it.

But I started getting worried when you complained about the $60+ million contract you signed in January 2012, almost as soon as you signed it.  I get it, you wanted a fifth year.  But it seems like an either-or proposition to me.  As in, either you sign a contract with the team and pledge your allegiance to it, or you don’t, and then you can talk all the shit you want.

Instead, you signed the contract, then explained how you would play with a chip on your shoulder, a phrase typically referring to proving enemies wrong, not your employer.  That following December, you curiously decided to air out your dirty laundry to Yahoo! Sports about the contract negotiation, team roster moves, and even your hurt feelings when people in the organization supposedly didn’t buy that your broken hand came from those now-infamous knuckle push-ups.

Let me let you in on a little secret, Kevin: nobody buys that your broken hand came from knuckle push-ups.  And yeah, we were pissed.  But we got over it.  And, believe it or not, we could get over this.

What’s “this” you say?  Let me be clear: I don’t want you here against your will.  If you do indeed walk out that door and out of my life forever, it would hurt.  But I can’t make you Love me, if you don’t.  Just show some respect along the way, bro.  This organization traded a top-3 pick for you (Mayo), traded away an all-star caliber player (Al Jefferson) to put you in the driver seat, paid you over $43 million, and would be happy to pay you the rest of the $31+ mil left on your contract, and then some.

The “this” that I’m talking about, that we could get over, is you dissing us, the fans! NBA basketball is a business, yadda yadda yadda, and the Timberwolves aren’t going to have anybody feel sorry for them.  But we fans have had your back for the past six years.  And it’s our hard-earned cash that ultimately pays your contract.

So far, you seem to have forgotten about us.  In an interview in LA last month, you said, “In six years I haven't been in the playoffs, and I think it's time for people to be watching me.”  Hey, Kevin, what are we, chopped liver?  We’ve been watching you for six years.  Cheering for you, even.  And yeah, we noticed you haven’t made the playoffs.

We’ve had to endure you talking about the Timberwolves as “they” and you fielding questions about how desirable such locations as New York and Cleveland (!) would be for you.  How was your trip to Boston, Kevin?  I hear Big Papi was offering advice on making the move there from Minny.  Maybe he can help you find some steroids too???  (I’m sorry, Papi, I didn’t mean that, honest.  This is just a tough time for me.  You know, with Kevin and everything…)

On SportsNation, you said that you received some advice.  And if that advice was for you to get out of Minnesota, I can’t find any fault in that.  It’s a free country, there’s probably more endorsement money to be made elsewhere, and there are definitely better teams out there.  And then there’s the winter…

But at what cost?  Was that advice to weasel your way out of your contract a year early, abandon your teammates and insult them on the way out, and all the while seem completely oblivious to the big “f--- you” you’re giving to your loyal and supportive fanbase?  I sure hope not.  If it was, you need to find somebody else from whom to take advice.

Eff yous notwithstanding, I still care about you, Kevin, so I’m going to offer you some free advice of my own.  Look yourself in the mirror and remind yourself that you signed a contract with the Minnesota Timberwolves, and by extension, their fans.  Request a trade, sure.  And if you have beefs with the organization, then by all means, take it up with them.

But here’s an idea: play out your contract!  Put in your work without being a complete baby about it.  Leave it up to the team as to whether they want to risk losing you in free agency.  The Wolves will likely be better this year, and guess what, they’ll pay you over $15 million bucks either way.

If not?  You do still owe something to the fans, and we’re not asking for much.  If you’re sick of losing and missing the playoffs, you don’t think that’s going to change, and you want to play somewhere else?  Fine.  We get it.  We’re sick of the losing, too, and can’t quite blame you.  Just don’t play the martyr.  As Flip put it best, “you’re either part of the problem, or part of the solution.”  And as Marcellus Wiley was fair to point out, don’t hide behind your agent.  You make the decisions, so stand behind them.

And do yourself a favor.  If you do end up with a new team, play some defense.  Don’t take plays off.  Work on your body language, and consider the team to be greater than yourself.

And, hey, did you hear about our new draft pick?  He went to UCLA and Flip calls him the best athlete in the draft, even if he is a bit of a project…  Oh, never mind.

But one last thing: if you ever run into Stephon, have him call me?

MN Sports, Ricky Rubio, and Last Night

If, God willing, I’m ever blessed with a son of my own, we are going to have a talk.  Right around the age of reason, when he starts making decisions on his own, the types of decisions that begin to shape who he is and will become for the rest of his life, I’m going to make sure he knows the ramifications of said decisions.  You know, like choosing to root for Minnesota sports teams.

Because if he does decide to root for Minnesota sports, he’s basically signing up for a lifetime of heartbreaking losses.  Of course, there will inevitably be a period of blissful naïveté, when he thinks he has been born into “just the right time”.  Perhaps a second championship in four years will mark the beginning of his fan life, causing him to think such things are the norm rather than the exception.  Perhaps the star point guard’s bro-love for the franchise player will keep him around, even as said guard dreams of warmer climes, like New York.  Maybe even the most spectacular offense the NFL had ever seen really can overcome a shaky defense.

No, son, not in Minnesota.  I’m not saying you can’t root for your Minnesota teams.  Just be prepared.  And find ways to cope.  Like writing about heartbreaking losses.  Maybe if you at least just understand better why your favorite team lost, you’ll feel better?  It’s worth a try right?

In case you missed it, the most recent heartbreaking loss in the land of 10,000 publicly-financed stadium complaints wasn’t the Vikings soiling themselves in Paul Brown stadium yesterday or even the Wild’s embarrassing loss to a bottom-feeding Rangers team that evening.  No, it was the Timberwolves somehow, someway losing 120-116 in overtime to a very good Clippers team last night whom they had simply outplayed right up until the end.

The play that keeps replaying in my head, and I’m sure I’m not alone in this, is Jamal Crawford stealing the ball from Kevin Martin and scoring to tie the game in the waning seconds of regulation.  All we had to do was hold the ball, make two free throws, and fly home to Minnesota.  Of course, every 24-second possession over 48 minutes counts the same, but it was this one that went so terribly wrong at the most important time, and so it’s worth analyzing this one (and maybe a few more above) and beyond the rest.

The ball was inbounded, shot clock off, into the backcourt to Martin, where he’s double-teamed by Chris Paul and Crawford.  Hold it right there… something needs to change.  The issue is not, as commentator Jim Peterson said, that you don’t want to pass the ball backwards.  Just recognize that Martin is, relative to position, our worst ball handler except for maybe Corey Brewer.  So at this point, everybody on the team should have been running towards him to help, especially Ricky Rubio.  Ricky needs to go get that ball and not let Martin have to even take a dribble.  Why Martin thought it was a good idea to try to dribble around Paul, one of the best defenders in the league, is another story, and thus he deserves blame here as well.

I like Martin as a player and it’s obvious we’re a better team with him, thanks to his outside shooting and playmaking ability.  But this isn’t the first game that I’ve walked away from wondering how a veteran could make such glaring offensive mistakes, as a player who has made his name on the offensive end.  What’s the solution?  Take him for what he is, which is a volume scorer, and don’t ask him to do anything else.  And that “anything else” means, now more than ever, handle the ball with a skilled on-the-ball defender.

But of course there’s a bigger issue here as well.  Martin gets the ball in the back court in the first place because Adelman seems to prefer him bringing the ball up late in games.  The thinking, presumably, is that Rubio isn’t enough of an offensive threat himself and teams would overcommit to keep the ball out of Martin’s hands with the game on the line.  The thinking is sound... as long as nobody forgets that Martin doesn’t dribble like a point guard, and if faced with pressure defense he doesn’t you-know-what.

I’m not opposed to having someone else bring up the ball every once in a while, but Ricky obviously needs the ball in his hands to be effective on offense.  And even when defenders are giving him space to shoot his jumper, he still seems to have little issue getting the ball to his teammates.  As evidenced by the great look he gave Nikola Pekovic at the end of overtime, Ricky is part of the solution on offense, not part of the problem.  And yes, that includes nights when he doesn’t record a point.

There are people who will see Rubio’s zero points in the box score and inevitably continue with the whole “Rubio needs to score more” narrative (actually, this is already happening on Twitter).  But, whether that’s true or not, Rubio’s lack of scoring is not the issue.  The Timberwolves are 4th in the NBA in scoring (105.6/game) and scored 106 in regulation last night.  As a coach, when you have two players scoring as efficiently as Kevin Love (45 on 15/23 shooting) and Pek (34 on 16/28) last night, you want your point guard to do what he did: pass them the ball.  Of course, if you have to choose, you pass it to the one who scored 45 on 15/23, but we’ll get to that later.

For now, Rubio.  Obviously, the man needs to make more of his layups and take less contested jumpers.  But I would argue he’s taking many of those contested jumpers because of outside pressure to become more of a scorer.  And perhaps he should look for his shot more.  But to ask Ricky Rubio to become more of a scorer would be akin to asking Michael Jordan to become more of a baseball player.  Sure, Jordan probably could have gotten better had he stuck with it.  But at what cost?  Jordan was put on this earth to be a basketball player, and Rubio to be a passer.  Love and Pekovic don’t combine to score 79 points if Rubio is pretending to be Russell Westbrook.

How many point guards in the NBA have more of an impact on both offense and defense as Rubio, even without the points?  Put it this way: to say that Rubio needs to score more than his career mark of 10 ppg is to say that he needs to become Chris Paul.  Which, of course, would be nice… but not necessary.  To win a championship in the NBA, you don’t need a scoring point guard.  You need a facilitator who plays defense and can hit an outside shot.

Looking at the list of NBA champions and their point guards over the past 20-25 years, you can make some fun conclusions, especially as a Wolves fan.  First of all, the only point guards that carried a significant scoring load on a championship team were the Spurs’ Tony Parker and the Pistons’ Chauncey Billups.  Of course, Tim Duncan also won a championship without Parker, and the Detroit’s championship was much more about defense than it was about Billups’ scoring.  But speaking of Timberwolves point guards who won championships with other teams, there’s also Sam Cassell, J.J. Barea, and Stephon Marbury (juuuuust kidding).

J.J.’s Mavericks team is a realistic best-case scenario for the Timberwolves.  Similar enough star (Dirk and KLove), point guard (Ricky and Jason Kidd), veteran shooter (Jason Terry and Martin) J.J., etc.  The stark difference?  Defense, really (Tyson Chandler, namely).  Boston won a championship with a young point guard who could hardly hit an outside shot (Rajon Rondo) but was an elite passer and defender.  The rest of those championship teams all had point guards that didn’t do much more than get the ball into the hands of the likes of LeBron, Kobe, Shaq, and Michael.

Which reminds me.  Kevin Love finished 15-23 from the floor, 13-15 on free throws and scored 45 points, yet didn’t touch the ball on the three most critical possessions of the game (Martin’s turnover and the last possessions of regulation and overtime).  I repeat: didn’t touch the ball.

Now, on the last possession of overtime when Pekovic missed from close range, you couldn’t expect Love to get a better look.  Perhaps Pekovic rushed it given the fact time was running out, but Love is not immune to such things himself against the Clippers, in Staples Center (see November 11).  And Crawford’s dunk to tie the game at the end of the 4th was so disorienting that you can’t quite blame Ricky for doing what he could to get a decent look with 10 seconds left without a timeout, even though that resulted in two low-percentage jumpers from Pek.

Still, Love has to have the ball in that situation.  Nay, he has to have the ball on every possession with the game on the line, not to mention when he has been virtually unstoppable all game.  Adelman has to do a better job of pounding that into his team, the team has to do a better job of executing, or both.  That’s not to say Love would have inevitably won the game had he been given the chance.  But he earned the chance by how he’d played so far this game, this season.

That being said, it’s worth wondering if it’s clear how to get him the ball.  Where does he like to get it?  What’s his go-to move?  Go-to players have clear answers to those questions.  We all know where Pek wants the ball, and what he’s going to do.  Maybe that’s why he got it.

It’s easy to forget this team is still very young and very new to each other.  Rubio, Love, and Pek only played a handful of minutes together last year and none with Martin.  Two of the biggest issues for this team right now are help defense and offensive consistency, both of which are exacerbated by a lack of experience together.  More time together could very realistically mean you come away from a game like last night with a win instead of a loss.

Then again, this is Minnesota.

But just so we’re clear, the Wolves need to continue to work to get better on defense, first and foremost.  They need to have a clearer identity on offense so that in close games they know what to do to get a bucket.  And they need to play as hard as they did last night every night, no exceptions.  Such improvement means that Wolves fans very well could be treated to much more meaningful games come springtime…  That will inevitably end in heartbreak.