Dan Nied shares some of his honest beliefs about tonight's Game 7 of the NBA Finals
I believe Rasheed Wallace acted alone when he left William Tell, er, Robert Horry in the closing seconds of game five to hit a game-winning three-pointer.
However, I also believe that there were 11 other Pistons involved in that game and they lost as a team.
I believe that Horry might not even be the best clutch shooter in the NBA Finals right now. Chauncey Billups has earned the nickname Mr. Big Shot for a reason. But still, Horry is definitely the guy you want with the ball, down by two with time winding down.
I believe that the Pistons proved in Game 6 that they are one of the toughest teams in NBA history and that is why tonights game 7 will be a classic along the lines of Ben Hur, Citizen Cane and Animal House.
I believe that the Pistons may very well win this thing. But then, the Spurs have some potent weapons.
I believe that Manu Ginobili flops every time a door opens in the arena. But he is the MVP of this series if the Spurs win tonight.
I believe most stats are meaningless. So no team has ever won games six and seven on the road in an NBA finals? As Hubie Brown said during game six, Its always nice to be the first.
I believe Bull Durham is playing on cable right now, and sometimes imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.
I believe Isiah Thomas is the best guard in Pistons history and David Robinson the best forward/center in Spurs history. Therefore Billups has been downright Thomasesque in this series and Tim Duncan has been absolutely Robinsonian.
But still, I believe that you foul Duncan whenever he gets the ball in the fourth quarter. That is when the noose is tightest.
I believe Tony Parker is the only Frenchman I didnt immediately hateand I am a quarter French.
I believe Bruce Bowen is a dirty player, and there is nothing wrong with that if you can get away with it.
I believe Ben Wallace plays better frod out and I believe Darko Milicic will turn into one of the best forwards in basketball some day.
I believe you cant say the same about Rasho Nesterovic.
I believe the Wallace Boys are the best forward tandem in basketball and I am shocked anytime Ginobili or Parker drives to the basket and scores over them.
I believe Larry Brown will coach the Pistons next season if he is healthy and that none of the Pistons players care about that at this moment.
I believe the Spurs have more talent than the Pistons, but not as much heart.
I believe that the best team always wins game seven, and tonight should be no different. Intangibles such as home court advantage and regular season record mean nothing in game seven. But determination means everything.
I believe these are easily the best two teams in the NBA and they have proven it with a series that should, but wont, be remembered for years to come. Look past the blowouts in the first four games. These guys were feeling each other out. Look at the last two games and try to find a dull moment.
I believe the Pistons complain about fouls too much, but the Spurs do to. Only nobody talks about that.
I believe Greg Popovich and Larry Brown are good friends.
I believe in playing the right way, and I believe that both of these teams do. Basketball is a team game, and there is nothing finer than to see two groups of guys defining the team concept on the games brightest stage.
I believe that Antonio McDyess wants a championship ring more than anyone else on either side. To go through three knee surgeries and cry yourself to sleep at night because your career might be over, well, thats no fun.
I believe McDyess will respond with a big game tonight for Detroit.
I believe that in some small way I have an impact on this series. As an proud Pistons supporter, I found myself unconsciously wearing Spur-colored black and gray shorts for the first five games (They were washed a few times in between. Dont get any ideas). In game six, I switched to red and gray. Pistons win.
I believe the Palace of Auburn Hill will be sold out tonight even though the game is in San Antonio. Theyll be playing the telecast on the scoreboard for 20,000 Piston fans.
I believe that the city of San Antonio did the logical thing in planning the championship parade after the Spurs won game five. But that still doesnt make it smart.
I believe that no one should ever doubt the Pistons. Sometimes they look like the Washington Generals, but when the game is on the line, no one is better.
So I believe that the basketball season will end tonight, with the best team winning the title.
And I believe predictions are out of style.
Vince Guerrieri dives into the new biography of Frank Sinatra
By Vince Guerrieri
210 west Managing Editor [send email]
Book review:
Sinatra: The Life
By Anthony Summers and Robbyn Swan
"We are simultaneously the most loved, hated, feared, and respected nation on this planet. In short, we're Frank Sinatra."
--Dennis Miller
There is no entertainer whose career spanned the 20th century and who can elicit so many different feelings than Frank Sinatra.
His first recording came 60 years before his last, Duets, in the late 1990s.
He saw Las Vegas through its infancy as a party town, and came back when odds were stacked against him (no voice, no job, and a wife who got more attention than he did).
Even now, six years after his death, he continues to fascinate. Anthony Summers, who wrote biographies about Richard Nixon, Marilyn Monroe and J. Edgar Hoover, turns his sights on Sinatra and comes out with what will likely be the definitive biography of the star, who dallied with the idea of writing his memoirs a decade before he died, but never got to it.
There are more than 200 pages of footnotes and bibliographies, also detailing interviews.What comes out of all of that is a book that meticulously details the singer's early years in New Jersey, his rise to superstardom, his staggering fall and his ability to pick himself up and get back in the race.
People who want to read about Sinatra's mob ties will not be disappointed. The book portrays him as not just a baritone (his listing in Who's Who) or a saloon singer, but a kingmaker, whose friends and connections put John Kennedy into the White House, and who switched to supporting Republicans (like Ronald Reagan) at the mob's behest, because they felt that the Gallant Old Party would be more receptive to their cause.
People who want to read about Sinatra's singing talents, his undeniable charisma and his endless appeal are going to be a little disappointed. He's portrayed as a shitheel, a blustering Sicilian who holds grudges, an alcoholic and a man who had his way with many women.
But it also focuses on his immense talent, his ability to make women crazy and the appeal he had for men -- a man who acted the way he wanted and damn the consequences.
The word that has been used in this book and before to describe Sinatra is padrone, an Italian term for boss. In a way, it reflects his capriciousness and generosity, his ability to help and his need to take, everything that makes Sinatra worth remembering.
His talent covered many, if not all of his flaws, wrote Richard Gehman in "Good Housekeeping:"It does not matter how powerful or corrupt he is or may become. We can forgive him so long as he continues to enchant us solely by existing,"
And that's why people still talk about Frank Sinatra.
Dan Nied wonders if Michael Jackson walked away from court a free man simply because he is Michael Jackson
Apparently, the one surefire way to get out of anything is to be good at something.
As long as that something is singing, dancing, acting, running or jumping. If you have any of those skills, then you can go to your local shopping mall and shoot the place up without fear of prosecution.
If one thing was proven Monday as Michael Jackson was acquitted of 10 counts related to child molestation, it is that celebrity is the ultimate defense.
Here's a guy that not only admits to sleeping with children, he thinks anyone who doesn't is crazy. Here's a guy that named his home Neverland after the Peter Pan story because he never wanted to grow up. However, I don't think Peter Pan had an amusement park in his backyard or a pet chimp named Bubbles.
Here's a guy that has already beaten child molestation allegations in 1993, yet did not take that as a warning sign to stay away from kids.
We understand Michael, the innocent spirits of children bring you so much joy. But then again, heroin can bring people joy too, but most of us have the sense to stay away.
So in the eyes of the court, Jackson did not molest his accuser. At least that is what a jury said. Could it be that this was such a clear-cut guilty verdict that it would be too logical for those 12 jurors to act with a little bit of common sense?
Hmm, repeatedly accused of child molestation? Check. Likes to sleep with young boys? Check. Owns the Elephant Man's bones? Check. May or may not be an alien? Check.
But then maybe the jury was blinded by possibly the biggest celebrity the world has ever known. Or maybe they were blinded by Jackson's pasty white skin that might be bleached or might be the result of some skin disease.
Either way, Jackson walked. A short time after the verdict was read, all the jurors gathered together for their very own news conference, where they soaked in the limelight and said that almost none of the nearly 150 witnesses that testified were credible to them.
Could it have helped that Jackson had actors Macaulay Culkin and Chris Tucker testify in his defense? I mean, did you see Culkin in Home Alone? He was sooo cute. And if Michael could keep his hands off of a young Culkin, then he surely could not be a child molester. You would figure that, to a child molester, a 10-year old Culkin must be like Angelina Jolie to a regular guy, right?
But still Jackson is a free man today. He is a celebrity accused of acting improperly, but never faced any consequences other than a lawyer's bill.
Comedian Chris Rock once said that if OJ Simpson, the former Buffalo Bill who was acquitted of murdering his wife in 1994, drove a bus instead of playing football, then he wouldn't be OJ to us.
"He would be 'Orenthal the Bus-Driving Murderer,'" Rock said.
It is a fair assumption. It might also be fair to say that if Jackson was a janitor instead of the King of Pop, then he would be the guy moving into a new house after being paroled 20 years from now, knocking on his neighbors to inform them of his sex-crime conviction.
But it doesn't work that way when you have a name that means something to people. Somehow the world got its rocks off last year when Martha Stewart was convicted of insider trading. So supposedly we can point to her as an example of celebrity justice. But Stewart's crime did not really hurt anyone directly. There was no singular victim in that case. But throw in a murder, as with the cases of Simpson and recently-acquitted former "Baretta" star Robert Blake, or a molestation case such as Jackson's and the sympathy card gets twisted, mangled and reversed. All of a sudden people are forced to picture someone they think they know, and maybe even like, performing a lewd or violent act that no reasonable person would dream of.
Simpson couldn't have killed his wife. He rushed for 2,000 yards in a 14-game season AND he was Nordberg in The Naked Gun. Jackson couldn't have molested that boy. He made Thriller. How can the people we hold highest in this erroneous society of popular culture commit these heinous crimes? Celebrities are absolved of being crazy. Celebrities are our best and brightest. There is no way they could perform evil.
As for Stewart and her insider trading conviction, that crime was one that any average person would at least consider, if not embrace. That is why it was so easy to vilify her. It took no thought at all to assume she was guilty.
That was her difference.
The truth is that no average person could hope for freedom with as much evidence stacked against them as there was for Simpson and Jackson. That is because a jury that is actually ruling on its peers would not be awestruck by the defendant. But for Simpson and Jackson, their stars shone brighter than any piece of evidence gathered against them.
So let this be a lesson to all celebrities. If your name is big enough, you can do whatever you want to whoever you want. Kill your wife, molest kids, rape as many women as you can.
The legal system is here to keep us peons in check. But American royalty is free to live violently.
Vince Guerrieri examines the man who was Deep Throat and the story's effect on journalism as we knew it and know it now.
By Vince Guerrieri
210 west Managing Editor [send email]
"I have never known much good done by those who affected to trade for the public good."
--Adam Smith
Deep Throat has been revealed, putting to rest 31-year mystery. W. Mark Felt, the former deputy director of the FBI has revealed himself to be the "deep background" source for Washington Post reporters Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein in their Watergate investigation. (Why does everyone connected with Watergate have a name like that? W. Mark Felt, G. Gordon Liddy, E. Howard Hunt, L. Patrick Gray...was that in during the '70s?)
For those who might not know, here's the Watergate recap: Someone broke into Democratic National Committee headquarters at the Watergate hotel. The thieves had ties to the Committee to Re-Elect the President, and the Nixon White House was linked to the cover-up, culminating in the jailing of several aides and cabinet members and President Nixon's resignation on Aug. 9, 1974.
Many words have been used to describe Felt. Altruist is not one of them.
His family said that they admitted his identity to try to make some money off of it. Woodward had said that he, Bernstein and Post editor Ben Bradlee were the only ones who knew the source's identity, and would not reveal it until Deep Throat's death.
The image cultivated (or at least inferred) was of a man fed up of the criminality of the Nixon White House who met with a reporter out of nobility with great personal risk.
That's no longer the case, at least not entirely.
Felt was passed over for the FBI director's position after J. Edgar Hoover (ANOTHER ONE!) died in 1972, before the break-in at Democratic headquarters at the Watergate Hotel.
He might have acted out of some sense of his own values, but his own personal interests must be considered. Additionally, Felt was convicted (but later pardoned) of illegal wiretaps and searches, which makes him a little bit of a hypocrite. The short-term results of Watergate were instantly noticed. In less than two years, Nixon had gone from being regarded as one of the greatest presidents of all time and the first man to win 49 of 50 states to resigning in disgrace.
The long-term results, though, are a little muddier, and a little less encouraging. Watergate was the high-water mark for newspaper journalism in the United States. While newspaper circulation had started dropping and more people were starting to get their news from television, it was two newspaper reporters (for a small, relatively unknown paper at the time) who found this story and wouldn't let it die.
After that, people found journalism a noble calling and enrollment in J-schools swelled. Today, there are more people engaged in public or media relations than there are journalists.
What the hell happened?
In short, wages suck. Newspapers continue to die. Advertising revenues continue to shrink. And idealism only goes so far.
Deep Throat was a deep background source, which meant that he couldn't be quoted, but many reporters started using anonymous sources, or started using them more.
The lesson lost from "All the President's Men" is that every fact was confirmed by at least three sources if it couldn't be attributed.
And that's where the problem started. Jayson Blair's anonymous sources turned out to be fabricated, and many other people have gotten caught using sources that couldn't be verified.
They say Watergate was the moment where America lost its innocence. The revelation of Deep Throat's identity makes us all a little older and a little more cynical.
As the Pistons prepare for the Heat in Game 7 of the Eastern Conference Finals, Dan Nied looks back at Cleveland owner Dan Gilbert's meddling with Detroit's playoff run and sees it as unacceptable. However Erik Cassano says Gilbert found his man and simply made a play for him.
So Cleveland Cavaliers owner Dan Gilbert wants Detroit Pistons coach Larry Brown to run his team?
Great, knock yourself out Gilbert. Grab Larry and let him run loose signing players that play the right way and positioning your team for a championship.
But do not. Hear me? DO NOT FUCK WITH ANOTHER TEAMS TITLE RUN.
That is the problem with the Gilbert/Brown secret meetings or non-meeting or text message conversations or homing pigeon correspondence or however it is that they communicated. It is not that Gilbert wants Brown to run the Cavs, its that Gilbert wants Brown to run the Cavs while Brown is still running the Pistons.
Not only is Brown still running the Pistons, but at the time of the talks, Brown was running the Pistons during the Eastern Conference Finals, when things were just starting to heat up in the their quest for a second straight NBA title.
If there isnt an unwritten rule, then there should at least be a written one: You do not fuck with another teams title chances. Even if the Pistons gave Gilbert permission to talk with Brown, who said he would accept the job only if he is not healthy enough to coach in Detroit next season, Gilbert never should have asked.
It does not matter where Cleveland falls on the personnel tree. It doesnt matter if they would lose out on Brown to the Lakers, Knicks, Bucks, Hawks or Long Beach Community College. When a team has a legitimate shot at an NBA title, you do not pilfer its parts. Without permission, that is called tampering. With permission, it is called being a real dick.
Most Pistons fans will say that they never expected Brown to stay for more than two seasons. The writing was on the wall for Browns departure earlier this season when he had to miss time for a bladder operation. Whether he would retire or go to another team after this season was inconsequential. The Pistons have put themselves in position to hire any coach they want (Yes, smart money is on Phil Jackson sending the Pistons his resume if Brown departs). So Brown leaving isnt the problem. The problem is that Gilbert, whose mortgage loans company Rock Financial is the prime sponsor of the Pistons, started snooping around a team trying to win a title.
Luckily the Pistons players arent prone to distractions, so this has been pretty much a non-issue for them. But as they suit up tonight to take on the Heat in a do-or-die Game 7 of the Eastern Conference Finals, they will have to deal with the idea that this could be their last game with their coach. Most likely it wont matter much. However it isnt something a team needs when its sights should be set on the NBA title.
Still, nothing about this is surprising. So far Gilbert has shown all the arrogance of George Steinbrenner with none of the savvy. Gilbert took the Cavs over at midseason when they were all but locked into decent playoff position. He then fired coach Paul Silas and made it no secret that general manager Jim Paxon was gone at the end of the year. Meanwhile the team floundered without Silas and rumors persisted that second-year superstar LeBron James could be headed to a different team in the near future. In the end, the Cavs sunk out of the playoffs and into the lottery, a fitting finish for a total douchebag of an owner.
After the season ended Gilbert cleaned house and apparently decided he wanted to emulate the success of his hometown Pistons. So he threw ethics and respect aside and tried to sabotage Detroits playoff run.
Luckily for Detroit, Gilberts meddling did not work. If they lose tonight it will be because the Heat are a better team, not because they were too busy looking over their shoulders for Gilbert.
But still, this has to be said about Clevelands new owner: Hes a complete dick.
By Erik Cassano
210 west Writer [send email]
When you talk about the prospects of Larry Brown becoming the new president of the Cleveland Cavaliers, the focus almost immediately shifts back to owner Dan Gilbert.
Gilbert is the central figure in what has become a controversy between Detroit, where Brown is currently the head coach of the defending champion Pistons, and Cleveland, the place trying ever-more-desperately to keep LeBron James happy and in a Cavaliers uniform.
Gilbert is a Detroit-area resident. The Pistons were his boyhood team. When he formally bought the Cavaliers earlier this year, it was natural he was going to look at the Pistons, on the league's summit, as the template for what he wanted to create in Cleveland.
When the Cavs flamed out and failed to reach the postseason for the seventh straight year, his resolve to tap into the Detroit mojo apparently strengthened.
It has strengthened to the point where Gilbert doesn't seem to mind stealing some of the Pistons' thunder even as they are still alive in the playoffs. The Pistons weren't even done with the Eastern Conference when it already appeared Gilbert and Brown had extensive direct or indirect contact behind the scenes.
Gilbert is being rather cavalier (pardon the pun) in his pursuit of Brown, and some in Detroit have taken issue with Gilbert's intrusion on Detroit's title defense. Gilbert's timing could pay off for the Cavs, or it could blow up in his face if Brown decides he wants to keep coaching.
Gilbert might look at it as a case of "you snooze, you lose." If Gilbert really wants Brown, he can't stand by and wait for Detroit's season to end. The Knicks or Lakers could make the first move for Brown if Gilbert waited.
If you are from Cleveland, and have watched the sometimes wishy-washy tactics of the previous Cavs regime, you must appreciate Gilbert's initiative, even if he's stepping on Detroit's toes in the process.
There might be other motives in addition to timing. The fact that Gilbert is from Detroit is also at work. Many of Gilbert's friends and family probably also call the Detroit area home, and Gilbert probably wants to show them he can be a success as an NBA owner like he has been a success at Internet loans.
Is this in-season play for Brown a blatant attempt by Gilbert to swoop in, make both Detroit and Cleveland sit up and take notice, impress some Detroit-area friends and relatives, and weaken the now arch-rival Pistons in the process? You'd better believe it.
Is Gilbert playing with fire, ticking off a class organization to try and get his foot in the door of a basketball man who changes jobs on a whim? You'd better believe that too.
Fire welds magnificent structures. It also burns bridges.
With less than four months on the job, it's already apparent Gilbert is someone who will never inspire indifference. We already know people who are developing a strong dislike for him (Detroit fans, Stephen A. Smith of ESPN). It's up to Gilbert to get an army of Clevelanders to back him up when the pundits and Pistons fans accuse him of meddling and backstabbing. That will only be accomplished by winning and more winning.
That's the crux of the Larry Brown saga from the shores of Cleveland. A play for power. A move to impress. Something to make the league sit up and take notice. A calculated risk. Nail-biting, but also a refreshing dose of aggressiveness from an organization that has been way too passive in recent years.
'The Cinderella Man' is a great, uplifting movie that just happens to be true.
By Vince Guerrieri
210 west Managing Editor [send email]
Imagine "Rocky" if it were true.
Imagine a movie that tugs your heartstrings, inspires you to beat your chest and do your Tarzan yell, brings you to the point of tears and makes two hours and 45 minutes fly by.
"The Cinderella Man" is that movie.
Russell Crowe (who goddamn well better get an Oscar nomination for it) plays James J. Braddock, a heavyweight contender who had the world by the short hairs in the 1920s.
Unfortunately, the world is turned upside down by the Great Depression, and Braddock, his wife (Renee Zellweger) and three children go from a two-story house to a one-room flat. Braddock can no longer fight, and works on the docks.
Miraculously, he gets a one-shot deal, a farewell fight at Madison Square Garden. He's expected to be a tomato can, but wins, and keeps winning. The movie climaxes with Braddock's shot at the title against Max Baer (Craig Bierko).
Paul Giamatti is Braddock's manager/trainer, a combination best friend/con artist. Zellweger gets another shot at the warm & fuzzy supportive woman role that first put her on the map in Jerry Maguire. But in the end, it's Russell Crowe's movie, and he's incredible. The Aussie pulls on a New Joisey accent, and his scenes with Zellweger show the incredible pain it must have been to keep a family during the Great Depression.
The movie also shows how the world used to stop on a dime for a heavyweight prizefight. Charlie (my grandfather to the uninitiated) used to tell me stories about hopping a train, going to New York City and watching Joe Louis box at Yankee Stadium. Today, boxing in general is an afterthought, and the heavyweight division has become a farce, as many of the men who would have pursued that career have found other less violent sports.
The main quibble I have with the movie is its casting of Baer as a villain. All he needs is a top hat and a handlebar mustache to make the caricature complete, and it doesn't reflect reality. I really believe that the story of James J. Braddock is dramatic enough without a ham-handed villain, and Bierko plays it just as malevolently and cartoonishly as he played the heavy in "The Long Kiss Goodnight."
But take that for what it is, and go see the movie.