ORLANDO, Fla. — How can a coach cunning enough to design a near Game 2-winning, out-of-bounds cross-court back-door lob be so obtuse regarding the ramifications of messing with players’ minds?
While positively positive Orlando’s ore deposit is too rich not to get off its 0-6 Finals schneid tonight against the Lakers — a stain that started in 1995 with Shaquille O’Neal’s weaknesses being exposed by Hakeem Olajuwon — there’s also no doubt in my mind Stan Van Gundy poisoned the Magic’s playmaking well:
A fairly smooth rotation of Rafer Alston and Anthony Johnson in three victorious rounds abruptly became an impaired mutation the moment Jameer Nelson, sidelined since mid-February due to right shoulder surgery, became Brick to My Lou’s understudy.
Supposedly this was not a rushed decision. Supposedly Van Gundy actually consulted with his suave staff and other trusted court connoisseurs before determining it’d be a swell idea to conduct an experiment in the championship chamber to find out whether Nelson can compete after not playing a lick in any of the previous three series.
Just what the Lakers needed, another distinct advantage beside home court, head coach and experience at every position exempting center where Raggedy Andy Bynum (has he ever committed a smart foul?) repeatedly gives L.A. a battery boost each time he’s obliged to squat.
As a rule, drastic adjustments at this intimidating elevation occur only when a major player gets hurt. This is a first that a repaired All-Star has been re-introduced into proceedings during the heart of the matter.
But what do I know?
Just that Van Gundy’s brain-drizzle is working so well he went without a maker of plays (Hedo Turkoglu handles reasonably well but creates mostly for himself) for the final 8:58 of the fourth quarter and nearly the first two minutes of overtime before going back to Alston, whose wrist-twister has never looked more unsightly.
Evidently spooked by the sound of Nelson’s footsteps approaching the scorer’s table, Skip To My Brick misfired 7 of 9 in Game 1. Sunday his marksmanship was worse, badly misguiding 7 of 8 with opponents briskly backpedalling to give him room.
When Alston returned to active duty in OT he flat out ran away from the passer on the perimeter to avoid being spotted open. If not already psychologically vapor, one or two uncontested misses to open Game 3 should send him up in smoke.
Nelson, on the other hand, claims to be still brimming with confidence despite accomplishing next to nothing. He missed 2 of 4 free throws, 2 of 3 field goals and recorded one assist and one turnover (FYI: Magic guards — Alston, Nelson, J.J. Redick, Courtney Lee, Mickael Pietrus — converted 6 of 26 from the field but a mere two makes were jumpers).
“I felt better tonight than I did the other night,” Nelson maintained when I questioned how he could expect to match up physically and emotionally with opponents who’ve been progressively raising their fever pitch for two months. “I thought my intensity was good. I didn’t get any rebounds but I blocked out. I just have to find my rhythm.”
Ozzie and Harriet’s home might be a good place to start to look.
Nelson played almost an entire half in Game 1, because he looked so good initially — four points and four assists in the second quarter. In Game 2, his ration was sliced by six minutes. Should there be another reduction in production at the outset tonight, Van Gundy’s last resort is Johnson unless Stan the Mannequin wants to drain Turkoglu dry before he becomes a free agent.
“Wow, how much is Hedough making for himself this postseason?” wonders column contributor George Caballero.
When the decision was made to promote Nelson and demote Johnson, Van Gundy apprised the 34-year-old of the situation and that was that.
“I kinda saw it coming so it wasn’t a surprise,” Johnson told me following Orlando’s 101-96 loss. “I worked the whole year, helped the team get to where we are, and then I’m told I’m not playing anymore. You know I wasn’t happy to hear that. But it wouldn’t have done any good to scream about it, or argue with Stan or cause a disruption. So I did the only thing I could do; be a professional and accept it . . . and stay ready in case the team needs me.”
Johnson’s inspiring 12-year, eight-team (two of ’em twice) NBA career is all about being ready when called upon and doing what he’s asked to do. Then he has to prove himself all over again the following year and the one after that.