The Houston Chronicle's Fran Blinebury recently laid into the hometown team. The refrain was not new:
T-Mac will occasionally give one of those "It's On Me" speeches. And then he'll turn into origami as soon as things get tough again. He is a splendid, wonderful bundle of basketball talent. But he is not a warrior who you'd ever want covering your back. After 10-plus NBA seasons, there is a reason why he has never won a single playoff series. He is a performer, not a player. He is a diva, not a diver. He is kind of star that his teammates will often watch in amazement, but never follow to the next level. And checking out of an embarrassing loss with a turned ankle does nothing to change that.
Yao Ming has the height, the weight and the bulk to be one of the dominant centers in the NBA. But he does not have the psychological heft to wrap his arms around the franchise and make it his own. It's part physical. He doesn't possess the powder keg quickness to make explosive moves. He doesn't possess the strong, large hands to control the ball. But it's more mental, perhaps cultural. He does not have the demeanor to literally and figuratively knock down anything that is in his way. See the layups that should be dunks. See how he rarely demands the ball. See how he almost never speaks out unless it is to say he could have, should have done more. Will a collection of American ballplayers follow a Chinese gentleman? So far, not a chance.
Who then is the Rockets' leader?
Steve Francis returned to Houston with an opportunity. But over the last two games in the absence of the injured Rafer Alston, he did nothing to stake his claim.
Shane Battier knows the game, understands the Xs and Os and could write a dissertation on how the Rockets should be playing. But in the locker room, he's not regarded as one of the boys.
Luis Scola is still finding his way around town. Mike James is busy trying to find the basket.
Bonzi Wells? Kirk Snyder? Rafer? Please.
That was only part of it. Blinebury had more to add. Which is what it is -- it's part of his job to be a critic.
But how about his commenters, the alleged Rocket fans, many of whom have clearly already bailed on the team ESPN's John "I picked San Antonio vs. Cleveland at the start of last season" Hollinger picked to win the big enchilada this year.
They're saying things like "I say, trade half of our roster. ... Time for a significant trade, I'm not kidding. ... All in all they need a spine."
This reminds of a lot of Spurs fans when their team was busy losing to the Detroit Pistons in the 2005 Finals. Matthew of The San Antonio Spurs Blog (I have picked on him for this before, and feel bad doing so again, but it so serves my point. Forgive me, Matthew.) wrote this at the time:
They are intimidated. They cannot dribble, catch, shoot, or execute fundamental NBA offensive sets. It is also pretty apparent that they don't know how to make adjustments through the course of play. Defense? What defense? Detroit is going to hang 100 on their sorry asses.
They play soft ... this is what they do ... they always have ... and most likely always will. They ... never defend their own (opting to play the "classy" card rather than stand up and defend their teammates by pushing back) ... I could go on, but I'm pissed and other examples are eluding me currently.
It is the ultimate irony ... they have one of the toughest coaches in the league yet play like a bunch of pansies.
As the history books are likely now being written, that Spurs team was, at that moment, in midst of one of the strangest dynasties in sports history. No, they didn't win the title that year, but they did win a tough Western Conference, and they are still the league's model franchise. UPDATE: Ridiculous bit of bad reporting, but it only serves my bigger point. That very year San Antonio won the freaking title.
Which brings me to my point: unless you expect to win every game, shouldn't you expect to have to support your team through some tough times? Don't fans have some obligation to show the kind of spine they want from their players?
Daryl Morey spoke last night with Jason Friedman of the Houston Press. He sure sounds undaunted by the team's 12-11 start, and not at all ready to start making trades:
I think you get labeled soft when you're losing and you get labeled tough when you're winning. I think your chemistry's bad when you're losing and your chemistry's good when you're winning. I think there's a lot of things that just get slapped on and added to winning and losing that aren't causal.
A healthy chunk of the bad deals are made during any sort of desperate period. It's absolutely the worst time to do a deal. Generally, any deal done not near some sort of deadline means you're the one pushing it, which means you have to be the one who's initiating the deal. It's almost like when a company gets bought on Wall Street: They're the ones initiating the purchase, so they end up having to pay 30% more. So I think there are natural times to do it, and the worst time is when there's some sort of strong need or desperation. We feel like we'll always do a trade that makes sense to upgrade the team, but that said, Rick has so many options on his roster that we can almost effectively make quality trades just by manipulating minutes to other players who all, we feel, have a chance to contribute.
Along those lines, Morey says you can expect to see a lot more Luther Head, who has shown in the past that he can make Yao Ming and Tracy McGrady a lot more effective with his long-distance shooting.
And I have a feeling that if Luther Head can start draining a bunch of threes, and making people think twice about double-teaming Yao Ming and Tracy McGrady, then Houston will forget that they ever thought McGrady and Yao lacked spine.
