Jeff Green is a piece of IKEA furniture. You acquire him, take his contents out of the box and rest them on the floor. The pieces are all there. But (at least if you’re like I am) it’s a long process to assemble them into a finished product. While you stare blankly at the pieces spread on the floor, you wonder if they’ll ever fit together the way they’re supposed to.

Green (quite literally) swears he can play. But he only needs to say so with such emphasis because a legion of doubters exist who wonder if Green’s skills will ever mesh, who wonder whether Green will one day make the transition from “the J.D. Drew of basketball” into something better, a transition we suspect he might be capable of making although we aren’t entirely sure.

Considering Green is now 25 years old, four full years into his career, at a stage when many players are entering their primes, it’s easy to look at Green’s tools and wonder if they’ll ever fit together the way they’re supposed to. (Boston Herald)

“Yeah, man, you know a lot of people don’t know what I can really do,” he said. “In Oklahoma, I was kind of overshadowed by Kevin (Durant) and the way Russell (Westbrook) picked up, but, excuse my language, I can really (expletive) play. I can really play this game, man.”

That belief was supported by discussions he had following the season.

“I had some good meetings with (coach) Doc (Rivers) before the lockout, and I’ve been talking to P (Paul Pierce) and Ray (Allen),” Green said. “Next year they’re really going to allow me to play, and I think that’s what I need. I need to go out there and just play. Sometimes I think too much, but I just need to go out there and play the game. I’ve got great confidence in myself, but things were a little difficult last year.”

I listened to the new Childish Gambino CD today while driving my car. I’m not in love with the CD. It’s pretty good. But during one song, Gambino stops rapping and begins to tell a story instead. What he talks about doesn’t really matter. It has something to do with a 13-year old, his crush, and a broken heart. But the conclusion to the story was thought-provoking.

Gambino said the story “isn’t about how girls are evil or love is bad. This is a story about how I learned something. And I’m not saying this thing is true or not. I’m just saying it’s what I learned.”

Here’s what I’ve learned about Jeff Green:

• He’s talented, but not preternaturally so. He can run. He can jump. He’s reasonably strong. He’s not a bad outside shooter. He’s a solid passer, can play two or three positions (with various results) and handles the ball decently for someone who stands 6-9. But he has no specialty on the court. Not everyone has a specialty. Scottie Pippen did pretty well for himself as a jack-of-all-trades. But specialties help. Ask Bruce Bowen, to whom professional basketball meant nothing more than playing rugged defense and shooting corner threes.
• In Oklahoma City, Green posted solid traditional numbers. 16.5 points and 6.7 rebounds one season. 15.2 points and 5.6 points last year before the trade.
• Those numbers were hollow. Green’s production was boosted by the fact that he played major minutes. But his impressive traditional statistics were achieved without much efficiency, and sometimes to his team’s detriment.
• The Celtics were 11.7 points per 48 minutes better without Green on the floor. There is no more damning statistic than that.
• Green plays with a vacant look in his eyes. I’m not sure this means anything about his competitiveness. It might, but it probably doesn’t. Remember, Tim Duncan is similarly subdued. The boring San Antonio Spur would probably flip you the bird for suggesting that he doesn’t show enough emotion, but his fingers are too weighted down by rings.
• There’s a train of thought, led partially by Green, that Green didn’t adjust well to playing alongside Boston’s many Hall of Famers. But Green’s production was actually very similar in Oklahoma City and Boston. He just didn’t play as many minutes. Check his PER (admittedly not a perfect measurement of production, but one of the better measures we have): 12.91 in Oklahoma City last season, 12.92 in Boston. Green’s rebounding rate, true shooting percentage and usage rate also remained almost unchanged after the trade.
• There are reasons why Jeff Green intrigues people. He’s versatile. He’s skilled. He seems like a good person to have in the locker room. We suspect he is capable of better play, even while we’re cursing him out for missing a box out, questioning Danny Ainge for making the trade or fretting about how much money Ainge might throw at Green when (and if) free agency finally comes.

This is a story about how I learned some things. And I’m not saying these things are true or not. There’s a chance Green re-signs with the Celtics, adjusts to life in Boston, and becomes an All-Star. I acknowledge that possibility. I’m just saying this is what I’ve learned.

So it might all have been Josh Smith’s fault? Somewhere, Mike Woodson nods knowingly.

Rajon Rondo’s Charity Event @ Harvard from Gabe Bornstein on Vimeo.

(h/t Red’s Army)

After 145 days of the lockout, this is what negotiations have become. (Sheridan Hoops)

“Some lawyers say to pick up the phone is a sign of weakness,” Boies said. “But if you’re weak, you’re weak, and if you’re strong, you’re strong. It doesn’t make you weak or strong by your calling or not calling. On the other hand, until they’re prepared to say something other than what they just put out in this statement, the question is, why are you calling?”

I’m no genius, but I’d say you’re calling in an attempt to end the NBA lockout. You’re calling to save a sport, assure that 450 NBA players start getting paid, allow laid-off NBA employees to regain their jobs, and provide countless fans with a reason to still care about the NBA. You’re calling because $4 billion of revenue is being wasted right now. You’re calling because — rationally, at least — the two sides are too close to extend this lockout much longer.

And if you’re a basketball fan, Boies, which I hope you are, you’re calling because you want to see Tim Duncan fight for position in the low post. You want to see Dirk Nowitzki pump fake, wait for his defender to jump, then craft a shot that almost scrapes the clouds before falling through the hoop with barely a whisper. You want to see Kevin Garnett hedge a screen, Steve Nash thread the needle and Derrick Rose split the defenders after dribbling around a ball screen.

You want to see Dwight Howard spin behind his defender and elevate to heights most humans can only reach in the second story of an apartment building. You want to see Kevin Durant sprint around an off-ball screen, Russell Westbrook learn to peacefully co-exist, and Kevin Love box out with the attitude of an ancient Roman warrior. You want to see whether Lebron figures it out. You want to see Carmelo Anthony and Amare Stoudemire maximize their partnership. You want to see the days when Kobe Bryant can’t miss, and even the days when he can. You want to see Paul Pierce as time winds down, measuring his defender at the right elbow.

You want to see the occasional nights when Josh Smith puts the Atlanta Hawks on his back. The nights when Dwyane Wade is golden. The nights when Blake Griffin views basketball as a 110 meter hurdle race. You want to see DeMarcus Cousins’ soft touch, John Wall’s world-class speed and Nick Young’s unconscionable yet oddly satisfying offensive repertoire. You want to see Rajon Rondo snatch a rebound from an opposing center, take two dribbles, and slingshot a left-handed pass 45 feet directly into Ray Allen’s shooting pocket.

You want to see J.J. Barea explode for 20 points off the bench, James Harden become the yin to Durant’s yang, and Kendrick Perkins treat referees like they stole his Range Rover. You want to see Tony Allen fighting for scraps, Shane Battier waving his hand one inch from a shooter’s eyeballs, and Zach Randolph playing out of his skull. You want to see Derrick Williams cut backdoor wide open while Ricky Rubio cradles the ball at the top of the key. You want to see Deron Williams crouched in a defensive stance with the shot clock winding down and Chris Paul dribbling his way.

Think for a second, Boies. The question isn’t “why are you calling?”

It’s why not?

That Antoine Walker is hosting a party in Chicago isn’t very notable. But when that party coincides with an Idaho Stampede home stand, eyebrows raise.

Walker is reportedly scheduled to appear at a party in the Windy City on December 1, when Walker’s Stampede host the Dakota Wizards. I’m not positive, but the party might be named after The Artist Formerly Known As Employee Eight’s shot selection: “That Shit Crazy.”

Walker re-signed to play with the NBA D-League’s Stampede, but hasn’t reported to the team as he awaits sentencing for gambling charges. He was supposed to appear in court for sentencing weeks ago, according to Ridiculous Upside’s Scott Schroeder, but his lawyer rescheduled the court date for Dec. 6 instead.

The 35-year-old was supposed to appear in court a couple of weeks ago for sentencing after pleading guilty to some gambling debt issues. His lawyer apparently worked out a court date for Dec. 6 instead as he deals with the casino issues in Vegas, but that date would seem a lot less convenient considering the Stampede will be beginning their first road trip of the season on that date.

Walker hasn’t reported to the Stampede yet this season, however, and it doesn’t seem like he will until after the court thing is taken care of — considering he’s planning on hosting two-day parties in Chicago (see flyer at right) when he is supposed to be visiting Bismarck, N.D., for a two-game series against the Dakota Wizards.

Maybe there are extenuating circumstances involved and the Stampede are okay with Walker’s absence. But this doesn’t sound good. Postponing a court date, failing to report to training camp on time, hosting parties while he should be playing for the Idaho Stampede — the Antoine Walker I remember knows his recent actions are nothing to wiggle about.