Did tonight's loss have a silver elbow--er, lining?

You absolutely feel where the defender is, whether he’s on the side or behind you, you just know. The replay sure looked sneaky innocent.

I’m sure Roy knew where artest was…..he may not have been aiming for his lip, but you throw that elbow back and try and connect with anything.

…Roy’s left elbow went back much farther than in his normal running motion. That was the “flailing move” I believe was intended to ward off Artest should he be reaching in again.

Was the elbow blatant? Of course not: that’s the beauty of it. Kobe finally got fined by the league around the 50th time he “inadvertantly” popped someone. May Roy be as successful. Judging by the responses to my post, he may well be.

Then again, the league won’t watch the tape with such rose-colored glasses as Blazer fans. Heaven forbid our golden boy should pop someone semi-intentionally!!

With me being the “1.” All the same, I’m confident you guys have it wrong. As I’ve said above, the whole idea of what Roy did (and what Kobe, Mutumbo, et al do) is to protect his space by flailing. Occasionally you catch someone, and they’re more respectful of your space subsequently. If Roy racks up a few more notches on that elbow of his, I’ll have been proven right.

But no biggie either way. The bottom line of this post was to take my mind off the loss—and it’s accomplished that. On to tomorrow’s game vs the Spurs. It doesn’t get any easier; as I said yesterday, this could easily become an 0-4 stretch.

Did you guys watch the entire game leading up to that point? Did you not see Artest reach around Roy AFTER HE’D DRIVEN PAST HIM on more than one occasion to slap the ball away (whacking Roy’s arm & body in the process)? Did you not note the officials failing to call this—usually an automatic foul?. (They even call it in grade school—whether or not the play is clean.)

As I said above, I’m not impugning Roy’s character here. He’s no cheap shot artist (ala Kobe). He’s just learning to protect his space by flailing a bit, thus making defenders more leery of playing him too close and aggressively. As I also said, you don’t need to look at the defender and take aim in order to pop him. After awhile, you “feel” where he is. Artest hadn’t played dirty, but he’d been riding Roy like a pony all game long.

Following the elbow to the nose, you can be sure he thought twice about sticking it in there again. Mission accomplished.

Or did you think it was sheer coincidence that the Blazers couldn’t throw it in the ocean last night? You’re being bumped, slapped, and muscled, and you can’t get to the basket, so suddenly you HAVE to hit those jumpers. Consequently, the hoop begins to look tiny. Those are the same open jumpers you drain all day in practice, but now you can’t hit one to save your life. It’s psychological.

So is the impact of a timely elbow. Suddenly, your leader has let the other team know that there’s a price to be paid for playing that closely and aggressively. Your team is going to flail around, swinging feet, elbows, etc., and over-aggressive defenders are going to get popped. The psychological equation is reversed—now YOU’RE the aggressor, and they’re the ones whining to the refs. Suddenly you CAN get to the hoop, and magically those jumpers start to fall—even when they’re not wide open.

When Roy Artest—the biggest bully on the block—went to the bench with a bloody nose, that had an impact. It had to. This pattern is as old as the game of basketball. It starts when you’re playing your big brother in the driveway, and continues thru schoolyard, high school, college, and finally the pros. Brandon Roy is a squeaky clean player, but clearly he understands this. At some point, you have to protect your space on the court, or else you’ll lose the game—plain & simple. Basketball isn’t football, but it isn’t tennis either.

Writing toughness fanposts is a lonely job. I didn’t even get TiH (or whatever he calls himself these days) chiming in.

I musta got caught up in that parallel universe for a moment and my post got misplaced.