YUP, that was some exotic craft LeBron James docked in the slip by remote con trol from long distance to win Game 2.
Yet, if the Cavaliers get bounced by this increasingly confident cluster of unflinching Magic players — one second away from being well on their way toward sweeping the series in the subsequent two games in Orlando — LeBron’s 25-foot stiletto will be just an implausible footnote . . . one of the greatest moments manufactured from nothing when he “used to play for the Cavs.”
Who could’ve imagined The Chosen One would’ve received so much bewildering help from The Frozen One?
Just before Williams’ precision in-bounds assist for the electrocuting 3-point shocker, I was wondering if a Coach of the Year had ever been fired the same season he was honored.
That’s how insufferable things had become at the Hock Shop within the space of 48 minutes times two. Mike Brown and his Band of Renown were on the verge of blowing their second straight home game in which they held large leads (23 points Friday) in the first half.
Eight consecutive victories, all by double figures, in two previous rounds against the Pistons and Hawks, had heightened expectations to a championship plateau. Anything less is inexcusable. This was far-flung less. When in doubt, blame the referees; that’s how I was taught. If impossible, then blame the losing head coach. That would’ve been Brown had equivalent, Stan “The Frozen One” Van Gundy not intervened.
For some incomprehensible reason, Orlando’s befuddled coach potato decided not to have 6-foot-10 Rashard Lewis jump in front of the 6-1 Williams while he was trying to inbound to James — “option A, B, C and D,” according to Williams.
Apparently, the Frozen One blew off that Tactics & Techniques class while studying under Pat Riley. Evidently, his father didn’t share all his coaching secrets with Stan and Jeff at the dinner table. Obviously, the Lamar Odom-Anthony Carter-Trevor Ariza steal sequence in Game 1 of the Nuggets-Lakers matchup escaped his keen observation.
With nobody to obstruct Williams’ view or block his passing artery, he was able to take his sweet time and throw a perfect chest pass to James for a Navy Seal sniper-like head shot he practiced continuously as kid in his backyard (“I pretended I was Mike . . . I wanted to be like Mike”) and persists in practicing end-of-game shots to this day, the higher degree of difficulty, the easier he seems to down ’em.
Naturally, The Frozen One acknowledged the breakdown as “my fault,” something he does to deflect further questions. Van Gundy refused to say specifically how he would defend the play if he had it to do over “in case it comes up again.”
“Hey Stan,” column contributor Tim Murphy needles, “this isn’t rocket science. Just about everybody could see how you failed (editor’s note: He wasn’t even smart enough to have Lewis — playing in no man’s land — double-team LeBron from the get-go). It’s too bad that the guys asking questions after these games are afraid to confront you with real questions.”
Meanwhile, TNT’s Doug Collins failed to so much as mention Van Gundy’s flagrant malfunction. Sure enough, the Emmy award-winning stupefied studio panel — Charles Barkley, Kenny Smith, Reggie Miller and Ernie Johnson — were uniformly clueless.
The first three times each had a chance to speak (I muted ’em after that) on the postgame show, they didn’t come close to identifying a strategic error had been committed. Instead, Miller improperly harped on Hedo Turkoglu’s supposedly bad defense on LeBron. How outlandish was that stance? Even Barkley didn’t fall for it.
Truth is, column contributor George Caballero underlines, “Hedo was one second away from being the hero. Now, forevermore, he’s LeBron’s Craig Ehlo.”
I’m just wondering at what point after LeBron’s shot went in did The Frozen One realize he’d accomplished the unachievable and cost the Magic a conference final victory in a single, solitary second? How long afterward did it occur to him or did someone else point it out? Dwight Howard? Owner Rich DeVos? GM Otis Smith? Shaq?
My God! What is happening? Ya ever watch some assistant coaches . . . see how some of ’em look so . . . how should we say, “casual in their approach.”
Ya think any of Van Gundy’s helpers (Brendan Malone has been coaching the game since The New York Mirror folded in 1963) might’ve asked: “Ya wanna put someone on the ball?” or, “Ya sure ya don’t wanna put someone on the ball?” . . . or “What are ya nuts??? Put someone on the damn ball!!!”Some head coaches need to understand, “We all drink from wells we never dug.” Others can make some solid contributions. Guys that are so emotional need a calm voice in their ear simply to remind them. So in conclusion, everyone on that staff agreed not to put someone on the ball?
Has a coach ever been publicly flogged, if not outright fired, during a playoff series with his team tied 1-1?
I’ve got to believe that either Miller, Barkley, Smith and Johnson will be Stan’s assistants next season or The Frozen One earned himself a permanent studio show chair.
Come back, Brian Hill, all is forgiven . . . again.