Play It Again Sam

Thanks Sammy my boy, you've put the Lakers in sole possession of first place in not only the Pacific division, but in the entire Western conference. And for those of you who don't know who I'm talking about, first of all, shame on you, and second, that would be Sam Cassell of the Los Angeles Clippers who dropped a cool 32 points, 6 boards and 7 assists on the Phoenix Suns last night. And thanks to my Aunt and Uncle, I was able to have excellent seats at the game. 

Of course, the news of the Lakers ascension to the top would have been scary awesome if not for the reality check of Bynum's 8-week-long knee injury. But thanks anyway Sam. You've been one of my favorite players over the years, and I had the pleasure of getting to watch you put on a show, no, a clinic last night. Yes, yes, I know this is a Lakers blog, and I probably should be talking about how Kobe had to take 44 shots two nights ago to score 48 points, and how Nick Collison tore through the Lakers bigs like they were tissue paper, and how one of the worst teams in the L pushed the now first place in the West Lakers into overtime and probably should have won save the rookie (and I mean ROOKIE) mistake made by Durant who took a long two pointer with the score tied and 8 seconds left on the clock.

But instead of worry about my team, I'm going to focus on the brilliance of Sam Cassell. One of these days I'm going to get around to finishing my blog about how Sammy deserves to be in the Hall. Perhaps even deserves to be mentioned with the top point guards of all time, but that is for my other blog and another time.

Watching the man play, when he's on, is worth the price of admission to the Clippers. He has no hops, diminished speed that wasn't too speedy to begin with, and the man is 38 years old. But he's a basketball genius. He out-thinks the players he's playing. Nash, for all of his offensive brilliance (which looked very sloppy going up against Q Ross by the way, 6 turnovers?) looked goofy and ultimately helpless trying to defend Sam. And Marcus Banks? Forget it.

Sammy uses his body better than anybody, feeling where the defender is at and attacking where he is off balance. He uses guile and trickery to draw fouls. Head faking at just the right moments (that last second shot he drained to end the half was off by a split second...), setting guys up by faking one time up the court, then faking like he's faking the next time, but shooting instead. It's confusing to describe I guess, but that's because he's confusing to defend. Perhaps his best attribute, as pointed out by my cousin, is his innate ability to stop on a dime. He'll be moving one way, then pull up suddenly and shoot. Before the defender knows what's happened, two points are on the board and Sam is jawing in his ear. 

And that's why there is everything to love about the man. In an era where money and endorsements and movie deals (D Wade wants to be better than Denzel apparently) and drugs and guns and strippers rule the NBA--Sammy goes out there because he loves to play. And it shows. He's out delegating for his team after every questionable call (which is pretty much every call against the Clippers), chatting it up with Joey Crawford, draping his arm around Derrick Stafford, staring hard in disbelief at Olandis Pool (the referees last night). He's out directing plays, setting guys up (that fake shot alley-oop to Maggette was a beauty), and hustling. The man just came back from an injury that sidelined him for a month, and he's out diving into the crowd for loose balls. He's sticking his body into the opposition, making life hard for whoever he's "guarding." He's flopping and flailing and acting. And he's smiling. He's got a great smile.

And though you made Nash frown, you put a smile on my face that has sustained itself into this morning while I'm looking at the Lakers in first place. 

So thanks Sammy.