You see it on a lot of playoff teams: big name veterans, held together by chewing gum.

Last night, as I was watching the Wizards getting killed by the Cavaliers, I spent some time watching Gilbert Arenas -- yet another star beset by injuries -- lumbering around the court. "Gilbert Arenas," I wrote in my notes, "has been sent here to make everyone else look athletic."

Later, during the next game, I was one of millions to wonder at how tired the Rockets looked. Tracy McGrady was so spent and banged up that he lost the will to do his signature work: create with the ball.

The other night when Tony Parker fouled out, Spurs' coach Gregg Popovich turned to his bench and got to choose between banged up and old Brent Barry, or banged up and old Bruce Bowen. It was a rare moment when the Spurs seemed to be victims of bad planning.

And don't even get me started on the Suns: Grant Hill, Steve Nash, Amare Stoudemire, Raja Bell, Shaquille O'Neal ... would this team even exist without doctors, masseurs, ice, and anti-inflammatories? 

Studies have shown that, in general, if you want to win now, you play veterans. They know the game best, they play the right way, they have the respect of the referees, and by and large they commit fewer errors. What's more, they are brand names, institutions you can trust. 

You can hardly get fired for playing Gilbert Arenas key minutes. 

Veterans are where it's at in this game. There's a reason these older players are the ones playing now, at this time of year, when a lot of the younger teams have gone on vacation for the year.

I cherish basketball savvy. I respect experience. I salute the willingness to drag an injured body around the court.

But in the end, it's a game about running and jumping and diving on the floor for loose balls. And for that stuff, there's nothing like being young, uninjured, and untired.

So what's the point of this?

As the playoffs roll on, pay special attention to the teams that get positive contributions from young and healthy people.

I'd argue that the youth of Tyson Chandler and Chris Paul was a major edge for New Orleans in Game 1 against the Mavericks.

Utah, last night, got meaningful and lively minutes from Deron Williams, Paul Millsap, Ronnie Price, and  Ronnie Brewer.

Down the stretch last night, I found myself hoping Houston coach Rick Adelman would bring back the tiny gunner Aaron Brooks, just to have some energy on the floor -- somebody who might beat the Jazz to a loose ball or an easy bucket.

No series shows this dynamic quite as much as the Sixers vs. the Pistons.

TrueHoop reader Lazaro played with some statistics from 82games, and found signs that, for the Sixers, youth reigns at the end of games. He looks at the Sixers' best five players in terms of plus/minus in the fourth quarter:

• Louis Williams +130
• Thaddeus Young +128
• Jason Smith +91
• Andre Iguodala +89
• Rodney Carney +67

Meanwhile, the same list for the Pistons:

• Amir Johnson +57
• Jarvis Hayes +29
• Arron Afflalo +19
• Antonio McDyess +19
• Jason Maxiell +7

With the exception of Antonio McDyess, both lists skew unbelievably young, which is contrary to what a thousand basketball old-timers would tell you.

In fact, those are the Sixers' five youngest players.

So, is this science? It is not. Does it prove anything? No.

But I'll tell you what: if I were a coach in these playoffs, I'd certainly consider the idea that that bouncy young guy just might be helpful in crunch time.

(Photo by Layne Murdoch/NBAE via Getty Images)