Once in a while, someone else’s article catches my eye. Sometimes, it’s because the article is so spot-on I wish I’d written it myself. Other times, it’s because the article enlightens me with something I never knew. Still other times, it’s because I disagree with whatever’s written. No matter what the reason, I dish it off to another writer to make his/her point. You know, throwing some dimes.
OK, so how many assists per game does Rondo believe he can average this season?
Realistically, how many?
“Twenty,” said Rondo, who did hand out 24 Oct. 29 against New York but hasn’t exceeded 17 in any other game.
OK, why do you think that?
“Because we’re shooting the ball extremely well,” he said. “We’re playing together and moving the ball.”
Told that, to average 20, if he had 15 one game, he’d have to make up for it with 25 in another, Rondo said, “I know. I can count.”
Twenty assists per game? Impossible. The record is only 14.5. Luke Harangody will be named President of the United States before an NBA point guard averages twenty assists.
I doubt even Rondo believes what he said. Twenty assists per game is an unfathomable number.
But it’s clear that if all the team expectations are met, Davis’ individual hopes are tied to being in the sixth man finalist group at the end of the season.
“It’s a goal of mine (winning sixth man of the year),” Davis told HOOPSWORLD. “It’d be unbelievable. So hopefully I’ll get a chance to hold it (sixth man award trophy) up.”
A more achievable task than Rondo’s, but Davis still has a long ways to go. Even while piling up charges at a phenomenal rate, Davis will be unlikely to leapfrog competitors who post higher scoring numbers. Just look at Jason Terry — the Mavericks guard is averaging 18.1 points and 5.1 assists per game. It’s going to be tough (read: almost as impossible as Rondo averaging 20 assists) for Davis to match that kind of production. He’ll have to hope voters consider his defensive contributions.
On Monday, West told FanHouse’s Chris Tomasson that he believes he’s a role model. A role model makes good decisions; West is realizing he needs to do the same. Except West is only a role model to other people with his disorder. His decision-making process isn’t about a normal brain having good judgment, or teaching your children well. There is something different with his mind. If you’re lucky enough to have the same problem (I am), then watching West try to negotiate the high-pressure world of professional athletics, to make precise choices on and off the court, is beyond encouraging.
West wants to be predictable, consistent, if not totally normal (contrast this with Artest). The romanticization of manic depression all too often assumes that being colorful, or wacky, is a given — a good thing, even. In sports, this probably isn’t the best way to keep a job unless you’re a superstar.
For everyone else, though, West can still hold meaning. Do you have a kid? When he or she asks about Delonte West, explain to him what he’s done, why it might have happened, and how it’s still possible for him to return to a place and live like a functional basketball citizen. That’s not a role model, or an example. It’s a lesson about people who are different, and accepting and understanding them and all that. Especially if they’re trying like Delonte. Tell your kid that he shouldn’t look to Delonte for guidance and values, because Delonte isn’t sane. What he can learn from him, though, is something a lot less mundane. He can see what real courage and dignity look like.
Do yourself a favor and click on the link, then read the entire take from Bethlehem Shoals.