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Re: You Don't Know Jack: A Pacers Story
Ch. 7
I was out and done — I missed nearly a month recovering from my ankle. In that time, the team rallied — we went 6-4 while I was out and that meant we were still above .500, just barely, when I returned on December 17th. Coming off the injury report was a relief … watching the team struggle some nights while during others they romped made me want to be out there. I wanted to pitch in, to help our guys get the win.
Gramps didn’t trade anyone up to that point because we didn’t sink. We had held true. But there were certainly plenty of spots for the two guys who were trade bait — Bogdanovic and Collison. Both had team options for the next season and both were playing reasonable well … certainly were two good players who deserved more time than we could give them. In my absence McHale threw out GROB (Glenn Robinson III) in Bogdog’s place as a starter and it worked wonderfully … thusly, Bogdog was on the bench.
Neither he nor Collison were making a fuss, but both guys had been brought in to be starters. Neither was starting. That was going to be a problem in all likelihood. With the amount of injuries all over the league, there was definitely a place for them somewhere.
As for our playoff hopes, we were in the thick of it — we had a winning record, which put us in a good position relative to the rest of the conference. We had the sixth best record in the East and everyone under us were a few games back (and under .500), so we felt good about our chances … the bottom of the East was fighting it out for the final two playoff spots.
And out West, it was a bloodbath like everyone predicted.
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Re: You Don't Know Jack: A Pacers Story
Ch. 8
The night of December 17th, we had a game against the Nets on the road. But two of our guys sat out – a trade had been made. Collison and Bogdanovic were shipped off to Denver … and we got back some interesting parts.
The Nuggets were just barely hanging onto the last playoff spot out West – they had lost Millsap for the next few months, Chandler and Murray were both banged up, and Jameer Nelson (he was like, 34) was starting.
It wasn’t tenable for Denver and Mike Malone was on the clock – he needed a playoff berth to really convince ownership and the fans that they were (finally) heading in the right direction. They shipped us the Manimal (Faried), and Mudiay.
Manimal got shipped off because of his contract, plain and simple. Two years left at 12M per, he was dead weight on a roster stacked with young PFs that could actually shoot – Faried couldn’t. For the Nuggets, who already had Jokic (a semi-decent shooter but no stretch-5), starting the two of them together wasn’t doable.
Collison and Bogdanovic would immediately slot in as starters and be upgrades respectively to the subs they were replacing. Plus, they could be let go of during the summer if the Nuggets needed the cap space to remake the roster.
On our end, we didn’t need Manimal to shoot – we needed his defense, hustle, and rebounding. Playing MT at the 4 was all right, but he was better as a stretch-5. The combination of ROLO and him made us too slow to get boards, too crowded in the paint. We needed someone who was a glasseater. Manimal was definitely that and he played solid defense both in the paint and on the perimeter.
Mudiay was a flyer, but Gramps was stoked to get him.
“He’s underrated and hasn’t been given a chance to really excel,” Gramps told me after the Nets game (we lost, by the way, but down two players it was kinda expected). “He’s not a point guard – he’s a combo. He can go one through three, just like you can, boy. He just needs seasoning and good coaching – he’ll get that here.”
Gramps got him on the cheap and, with two years left on his deal, he’d come off the books at the same time as Lopez and Manimal.
“What’s happening in the summer of 2019?” I asked him.
He just flashed a smirk. “Only God knows.”
The next night, on the 18th, we welcomed the Celtics back to Indy. Our first game against them was right after I got injured, so I missed it – but we won anyway, 95-91. Now, with me back, I was ready to establish that I was capable of taking on the best guards in the game … my matchup was Kyrie Irving.
Uncle Drew himself.
We were in our early 2000s throwbacks, the classic pinstripes, but it wasn’t an early 2000s game – it was scoring, left, right, up, and down. Defense was optional and the Celtics just blitzed us. Hayward got hot early on and Horford kept hitting those mid-range shots. Kyrie was so fast – he was faster than the tape made him look, which seemed impossible to me.
How could anyone be that fast, that tight with their handles? The man seemed like he was on another level. Offensively, he was my superior – but he couldn’t guard me. The Celtics had trouble containing me. The problem in that first quarter wasn’t my ability to score, but rather pass.
I was trying to feed Manimal, but the Celtics weren’t biting on the screen and roll at all. Manimal was getting pushed out of the paint and his shot wasn’t falling. In the first, I learned that force-feeding a big doesn’t guarantee success. It only guarantees a *uckton of frustration for everyone.
Faried told me, straight up at the beginning of the second, to lay off him – he’d get his points, but with boards and putbacks. I hit the bench as VO took the PG duties at the beginning of the second. Our lineup at the beginning of that quarter was nice – VO, Mudiay, Lance, MT, and ROLO.
The Celtics got pounded with all the passes flying around. 1-3, we were able to sling the ball anywhere on the court.
The second quarter was much, much better for us. We played under control. We made the extra pass. We started to figure out how we all worked as a team.
Halftime rolled around and we were up 67-64. It was a high scoring affair, but in the third it became a defensive battle. We started hitting shots and playing tough defense … and they started missing. I got into my groove, did my damage, and we got great play from Manimal – he had spent all game wearing guys down and in the third, it paid off.
We pulled away in the fourth, despite Boston trying to mount a comeback – a couple of clutch triples from GROB (who exploded in the fourth) nailed the coffin shut. We had won and moved to 18-13 on the year. We had a team I felt good about … depth across multiple positions, the ability to switch around, it was good.
Were we good enough to make the playoffs? Maybe. I had my doubts still, but I liked how the front office flipped DC and Bogdog for players that helped us, and sent them to a place that helped them. That was good management in my opinion.
But, *uck, I was only 19. What the hell did I know?
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Re: You Don't Know Jack: A Pacers Story
Trek, sorry if you have done this and I have missed it - but any chance to see Tate attributes? Liking the storyline as always.
Also, I like the combo of Faried and Turner, but I honestly can't imagine my Power Forward not to shoot (playing with Z-Bo might have spoiled me). Still, could be a good fit, we shall see.Comment
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Re: You Don't Know Jack: A Pacers Story
I can get you a screecap of that - he's not a scrub. I made Tate an 84 at the beginning of the season, but in-season training has bumped him up to an 85 and chemistry has him at an 86.
I wanted him to be rated at like Jeremy Lin was at the height of Linsanity -- which was about an 82-84 range. I'm aiming for Tate's career to be what Lin's should have been, had he been given the keys to the offense and actually allowed to develop.
Tate is basically an out-of-nowhere player who's got the skills to be very, very good ... assuming a proper team can be built around him and he avoids injury.
As for Faried and Turner -- I was getting demolished on the boards with ROLO and Turner as my starting pair. I do miss ROLO's midrange game (underrated, IMO), but he's better as a bench big where I can use him to bully the other second-units.
Faried's lack of shooting touch hurt, but his defense on the interior and perimeter is rated C+ both ways, his rebounding is stellar, and I just love him as a player -- a hustle guy who knows no quit.
Long-term, he is not the answer at PF. I'm hoping/betting either Sabonis or TJ Leaf will develop into my answer there (Sabonis plays much better than his stats indicate, Leaf is a question mark). The gameplan is to evaluate the team in the summer of 2019, when many contracts come off the books.
But we'll see if that comes to fruition or not.
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Re: You Don't Know Jack: A Pacers Story
Ch. 9
New Year’s Eve, 2017. We were powering through our schedule since the trade, going 5-1 - admittedly, we had some really dog teams in that time-frame (the Nets, Hawks, Mavericks, and Bulls), but we won against the Celtics and Pistons, two of the better teams in our conference. We were nearly ten games over .500, a far cry from how the last few years of Pacers basketball had gone (where the team was barely limping around .500 for a lot of the time).
Our matchup that night was against the young, hot team out West — the T’Wolves — and they were finally starting to come together. Despite injuries to Dieng (out with a pulled hamstring), the Wolves were rolling of late. They were hanging tough as the sixth seed in their conference and aiming to get higher.
The rest of the NBA wasn’t really paying attention to us — why would they? We didn’t have KAT. We had Myles Turner. We didn’t have Jimmy Butler, we had Victor Oladipo. We didn’t have Andrew Wiggins, we had Glenn Robinson III. We were like the diet, discount version of their team … but *uck if I was going to let them walk into our homecourt and own us.
They had a guy in Jeff Teague who up and left the Pacers when given the chance. Fine, that was his call — but Indiana people have long memories and Teague’s play wasn’t exactly spectacular in his time with the blue and gold. When introductions were made, he was properly booed.
And I wanted to make sure Teague — and the rest of his team — understood we weren’t going to give them anything. The first quarter was a battle from tip-off as the T’Wolves went straight at MT with KAT, and KAT owned. It was a contrast, a stark one, to see KAT operate so fluidly all over the court. Having had to shoulder the responsibilities of an entire franchise for nearly two years, KAT was ahead of the game in terms of his ability to see the court.
We weren’t going to do much to slow him on defense. But there were ways we could slow him down.
McHale made it clear in the pre-game meeting that the T’Wolves reliance on KAT was their weakness and it played right into our strengths — we played an inside out game for exactly this reason. His message was simple: attack.
And that’s what I did, first possession I got, I went in there and attacked KAT right at the rim, but missed my layup. No worries, as the Manimal was there and he cleaned up the board, got the putback, and got to the line. 3-2 Pacers. I didn’t have a great game in that first quarter, I was 3-9 from the field and had 12 points (thanks, free throws) but the rest of the team — Manimal in particular — cleaned up my mess.
We led 26-22 after one. In the second, it became VO’s show as he ran the one, and he paced us pretty well. VO was suffering from back spasms but decided to play through — you could tell he was playing hurt though. He didn’t have the same burst, the same “get-up” as he normally would, but he was able to run the offense well enough. Lance kept up the matra of attacking KAT and the refs rewarded our strategy with fouls.
The T’Wolves were livid with the refs with all the fouls they were calling on their star, but near the end of the second KAT had three and Thibs sat him down. With him out, the T’Wolves had to look to someone else … and didn’t get much help from anyone else. Butler was quiet, Wiggins was hesitant and at the half we were up 53-49.
It was in the third where two things finally happened — MT found his shot (he had had a terrible first half) and KAT got into more foul trouble, putting him off the floor. With those two things in play, our offense opened up and we starting bombing away from deep — GROB got a few up, so did Corey Joseph, and the Timberwolves slowly started to sink.
Towards the end of the third, KAT fouled out — much to the chagrin of the T’Wolves — and they utterly died in the fourth. Without KAT being the hub of their offense, they collapsed and we walked out of there with a nice win.
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Re: You Don't Know Jack: A Pacers Story
Interesting! I'll definitely be following.Comment
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Re: You Don't Know Jack: A Pacers Story
Ch. 10
I laughed at him, he wasn’t exactly “hip” but whatever. I wasn’t doing it to impress him … I wanted a change.
After we disposed of the T’Wolves, we went 4-2 in our next six games — losses to the Bucks twice (the Greek Freak was a Freak of the highest nature, but the Bucks were struggling badly to stay healthy and put a winning product on the floor), but wins against the Bulls (hapless Chicago reeked like *hit in the summer sun), the Heat (Whiteside was wrecked us, but no one else stepped up), and a one point squeaker over LeBron and the Cavs (I dished out 17 dimes with 19 points — loved every minute of that win).
We traveled to Phoenix to take on the Suns, where we won by 15 points, but then had to catch a red-eye to Utah to face the Jazz. Utah was killing it out West, much like ourselves they were better than many predicted. Their addition of Rubio as the point man was doing wonders for them — the entire team was benefiting from that man’s play. But we weren’t slouches and we weren’t slackers — tired as we were, we knew that winning against a near-lock playoff team out West would give us some legitimacy.
Gobert was a beast in the middle — defensively, offensively, the man was going to be tough to handle. McHale told us before the game started that we were going to have to hit our shots — drive inside, force the issue, but know we were going to get rejected. I didn’t believe him — Gobert was tough, sure, but the rest of the Jazz? They weren’t a threat in my mind.
In the first quarter, I looked like a damned genius. We took it inside, we hit our shots, we pounded them in the paint — played to our strengths, hit a triple or two to keep things honest, and had an 8 point lead heading into the second. I was feeling it … but the NBA game isn’t about what happens in a first quarter.
At 19, I had a tendency to get ahead of myself and BOY did I get ahead of myself in the second. The Jazz adjusted — tossed out some wacky lineups. They rolled with Hood, Mitchell, Ingles, Joe Johnson, and Favors. They ran our subs off the floor, even with me in there, and locked us down on defense, stretched us out on offense, and largely kicked our *ss.
If the Utah crowd was less Mormon, they’d have been slinging some nasty curses at us as we headed into the locker room at halftime. I couldn’t figure out where the *uck we were going wrong — shots weren’t falling, I was cold, and we weren’t taking great care of the ball.
McHale sat us down and calmly told us to slow it down. We were down, 54-48, and had been skewered that entire second quarter — outscored 33-19. It wasn’t because we were that *hitty, but rather because we played too uptempo. I was guilty as anyone — needed to slow the *uck down. McHale told us get back to our game, get back to our style, and we’d be able to see it through.
In the third, we did just that — largely in part because of the play from the bench. Mudiay knocked down some clutch triples, Lance did his thing (generally, just playing fearlessly — for better or worse), and we managed to pound them inside — got Gobert and Favors in foul trouble, forced the Jazz to play Johnson against size (and youth) and Iso Joe was rendered ineffective defensively.
We entered the fourth up 84-83. I came out guns blazing in the third and by the time fourth rolled around, the Jazz were doubling me anytime I touched the ball — I passed out sometimes, drove into them others, but they beat me up. I got tired — a back-to-back will do that to a guy, especially a guy who’s 19 and has never played a full NBA season. I was gassed by the time we got midway through the fourth and my shot was falling about as often Scott Brooks was flopping (which is to say, it wasn’t falling).
But McHale was smart — gifted with depth, youth, and guys who could handle the rock, he let VO rest at the beginning of the fourth. Victor came out FRESH at the 5:56 mark and, with only 11 points to his name, he became the commander of the offense. I was the distraction — I touched the ball and the Jazz gravitated to me like I was a *ucking planet. When they did, I passed out — the ball found it’s way to VO.
And he crammed it down their throats. Gobert had 5 fouls at that point, so he was playing a bit off, but Favors was still in there — VO didn’t care. He was bouncing around like he was on springs. Dunks, layups, pick and pops, he scored in a variety of ways. With 40 seconds left in the game, Favors hit a high-arcing post-fadeaway shot to tie it all up, 105-105.
McHale didn’t call a timeout — we only had 1 left — but we knew what we needed to do. We got the ball up the floor fast, I took it to one side of the floor, dished off to VO, and he jammed it over their faces. And got the foul.
BOOM. With the free throw, it was 108-105. The Jazz got the ball, tried to run a play for Ingles, but he missed the shot — the rebound went our way and they fouled. Gobert fouled Faried, so he was gone. Manimal stepped to the line and hit two free throws with 8.2 seconds left. The Jazz tried for a long triple but got nothing.
We won and, rightfully so, VO got the recognition for his kick*ss fourth.
As a team, we did exactly what we needed to pull out a tough back-to-back.
That night wasn’t memorable just for how hard the game was. It was memorable for a stupid *ss poll SportsCenter ran during their show. I was matched up against Rubio most of the night and, in my opinion, got the better of him, but ESPN wasn’t even paying attention to that — they put out a poll asking if the fans thought Rubio and I were brothers.
It pissed me off and, worse yet, it set off Twitter threads going a mile a minute. Sure, we looked sorta alike. The resemblance was kinda there, I grant that, but after the game I had, the night my team had, the fourth quarter beatdown VO gave the Jazz (he didn’t miss a single *ucking shot in the fourth and they glossed over it), it infuriated me to have all that be dumped to ask if Rubio and I were long lost brothers.
That night, I decided to end the debate fast. MT, VO, and myself gathered together in VO’s room and my boys gave me a haircut. Myles, bless him, wanted me to join him and wear a headband. But I hated headbands — I didn’t want *hit on my head as I was playing. VO told me to shave my beard, but I told him straight-up I wasn’t going barefaced. All through high-school and college I was a baby-face without facial hair.
I didn’t want to look like a *ucking kid.
So, after about an hour going through hairstyles and ideas, in a hotel in Utah (the most boring state ever), I got myself a new look that ended the debate about whether Rubio and I were twins.
It was a nice look I thought — endeared me to the team some, dissuaded anymore “twin” talk with Rubio. Gramps wasn’t a fan, though.
“Boy, you should keep your hair or just get rid of it — why do you need to make your head look like a corn field with a crop circle in it?” he said when he first saw it.
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Re: You Don't Know Jack: A Pacers Story
Good stuffRetro Redemption - Starting over with a oldschool PowerBone Offense
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Re: You Don't Know Jack: A Pacers Story
Ch. 11
The next few games weren’t great for us — we got the big win against the Jazz, then proceeded to lose the next seven games. We went 3-4, and we were coming off a loss to the Magic in a beatdown — 19 points. We weren’t great … the ASB wasn’t far away, only two weeks, and you could tell guys were looking ahead to the break.
I was tired, I’ll admit it. The NBA season wasn’t like the college season … it was like the college season times four. With less rest in between, no classes, no much time to just sit around and shoot the *hit. The NBA life demanded your attention almost every day of the week and it was more exhausting when you weren’t winning. Winning, like they said, cured everything … it gave you a high, it gave you a reason to get up in the morning when your body was screaming at you that you should just stay down.
Winning was the drug that made men come back to the court when it was time for them to leave. The difference between the best players in the game — the LeBron’s, the Durant’s, the Kobe’s — was that they knew they how to deal with it. They knew when to allow themselves to take that hit from winning and when to ignore it, walk away from it. It was like knowing when to drink and when not to: some people couldn’t help themselves.
The greats? They could walk away anytime knowing they were winners.
I hadn’t proved *hit yet. No one on our team had and no one on the Hornets had either — not even Dwight Howard.
We were coming off two straight losses, both not pretty. That night was our “Hickory” night, the night we were honoring the Hickory Huskers from the movie Hoosiers. I loved Hoosiers; I don’t know if there was a player in Indiana who hadn’t seen it. Those uniforms, though, were high school ugly — you could get away with it in high school, but we were in the pros.
The Hornets showed up in their throwback unis, and they played like we were their little brothers. Despite having a worse record than us (early season injuries wrecked them), they were the more veteran team. Dwight Howard was a man among boys in the middle and Charlotte, midway through the first, jumped out to a 26-14 lead.
We were getting blown off the floor. McHale subbed out Turner and Faried, and brought in Sabonis and Lopez early. Surprisingly, that slowed Howard down — he had to fight harder for boards and the Hornets couldn’t handle the pounding Sabonis brought into the paint.
We managed to close the gap towards the end of the first, closed it a little more in the second, and then we took off in third. After halftime, we were a different team — McHale told me I needed to be more aggressive, more assertive, to stop seeking the pass and just play. I only had 13 points at halftime, two turnovers and one assist — I couldn’t get the ball to anyone.
“Don’t force it to anyone else, take Kemba off the dribble — he can’t guard you,” McHale bluntly told me in the locker room. I took his word as gospel and resigned myself to doing my damage when I came back in.
In the third we started to run and started to wear them out. They wanted to pound us inside, play inside-out? We weren’t going to let them set up. ROLO was key in denying everything he saw — he didn’t have as many blocks as Dwight, but his defense in the third energized us.
In the fourth, we barely maintained serve. Our defense wore out and we started fouling — Manimal got hit with four and five within a minute of each other, but McHale kept him in. He trusted the veteran. Dwight was killing us — every missed board was his, he singlehandedly kept the Hornets in the game with all the second chance points he was getting.
It came down to the final minute. Tied 103-103, the Hornets had the ball and started running it up court — Walker slung a pass into the middle, but Manimal swiped the ball away beautifully, coming up with the steal.
With under 50 seconds to go, we took it up court and the ball found my hands. I had been steamrolling over Walker in the second half and I had no intentions of passing up the shot unless someone was stupid open. I lined Walker up, called for a screen from MT, Myles gave Kemba a little chip and I took off. Kemba withstood it well though and stuck with me.
Tied game. Under 30 seconds left. I didn’t go to the hoop, but instead pulled up from the mid-range.
BUCKET. 105-103 with 26.4 seconds left. Hornets called a timeout and I was sure we had won the game. Charlotte looked dejected.
But they weren’t dead. They inbounded the ball, tried to set up multiple plays, but we walled off the paint. We were going to force them to shoot a triple and they had gone cold at the half.
Kemba got the ball with under ten seconds left on the clock, the shotclock lower than that, and he launched a heave from deep. It bounced high off the back of the rim and all we had to do was secure the board.
Dwight Howard wasn’t going to let that happen. He flew in and tipped it back into the hoop, tying the game with just 3.3 seconds left. 105-105.
We used our last timeout and I couldn’t believe it. How were we getting killed on the boards by this one man? He was possessed.
We got the ball upcourt, inbounded it to me, and I let loose a triple I thought for sure was going in. It did … and then it rimmed out. Overtime.
Luckily for us, the Hornets had emptied their clip just to get to OT. We dominated from the opening tip, VO getting the better of Howard and the rest of the defense throughout the whole period.
I got more points, mostly from the free throw line, and for the first time in my career, heard “MVP” chants. I’ll always remember that night — those Hickory uniforms weren’t flattering, but damn if they don’t hold a special place in my heart.
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Re: You Don't Know Jack: A Pacers Story
Ch. 12Other than those moves, the deadline passed without incident … it was quiet. The summer was when things were going to get really interesting, but that was a ways off. There was a lot of basketball left.
The trade deadline approached and rumors were flying about where big names in the league would go — Marc Gasol and Conley were both stuck on a losing Grizzlies team, Bledsoe was still on the Suns (but they were competitive), and no one knew what the Cavs would do with that juicy Nets pick (well on it’s way to being first overall).
Of course, I remember that week not for the trades that were made, but rather the honor I had of being on the cover of Sports Illustrated. You better believe I have this framed on my trophy wall.
It was nice not to have the media screaming about me being the grandson of the owner … it took the good part of the season, but my play had proven to the league I definitely belonged in the conversation without having nepotism charges tossed at me. We were doing well and the standings two days before the deadline told the whole story.
Gramps assured me we weren’t making any moves at the deadline and his word was good; our record spoke to how well we were playing as a unit and though there was some interest in a few of our guys, it wasn’t enough to pull the trigger on. That was kinda the story of the whole league that deadline: plenty of interest in moves, but playoff teams were bunched up in both the East and the West. No one wanted to make a move to upset things if it wasn’t a clear win for one side.
The league getting healthier made things tougher for GMs, too — guys were coming back and the injury list, once a mile long, was pretty small as the break approached.
There were only two notable trades — the first came from the 76ers, who finally moved on from Okafor after letting that poor SOB rot on the end of the bench for most of the year.
The sent him back to his hometown of Chicago, where the Bulls would at least be able to use him to sell tickets. His value had tanked, but the 76ers got back Justin Holiday and Felicio, both players that were signed to decent deals and would give them depth for the home stretch. Rumor out of Philly was that Reddick and Amir Johnson, both signed to large one-year deals, would bolt in the offseason for greener pastures, so Philly needed to prepare for their loss. They signed Covington and Holmes to solid extensions, too, so the team was ready to go for the next few years. The 76ers were desperate for the playoffs and their move, though small, couldn’t hurt them.
The next trade was between the two most dysfunctional teams of the last decade … and the Spurs.
George Hill, former Pacer, was sent to New York to take over their PG spot; the poor Knicks had been trying to play their rookie but he wasn’t ready, so they had been forced to use Ramon Sessions (as you can imagine, that wasn’t working). New York’s GM was a former front office guy for the Kings and negotiated the deal … of course, the Knicks gave up their 2018 1st rounder, but the depth in that draft looked shallow. The Knicks were in the playoffs with their record and Hill would help them stay in the race. Porzingis wanted to see the team try to build something, and though trading a 1st wasn’t great, Hill was a really good (and underrated) player.
Getting ride of Noah was a bonus — the Kings took him back for that pick (they were betting the Knicks would collapse and could you blame them?) and Sacramento, flush with centers, sent young Harry Giles — who hadn’t seen a minute all year — to the Spurs with Sampson for Derrick White, the Spurs 2017 1st round pick. The Kings knew Fox was their future at the PG spot and Sessions was going to leave in the summer. White was an ideal backup for Fox long-term. The Spurs got depth back and clearly saw something in Giles they liked … which should have clued the Kings in to ask for more, but that’s the KANGZ.
Last edited by trekfan; 11-07-2017, 12:39 PM.Comment
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Re: You Don't Know Jack: A Pacers Story
Nice man. FollowingComment
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Re: You Don't Know Jack: A Pacers Story
enjoyed reading about your trades I know your good at that kinda stuffRetro Redemption - Starting over with a oldschool PowerBone Offense
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