Making the Magic Disappear

EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS

If you’re looking for the main reason why the Orlando Magic doesn’t have a chance to beat Boston in their Eastern semifinal fracas, look no further than the ridiculous bi-play between coach Stan “The Hedgehog” Van Gundy and Dwight “Overrated” Howard after the team’s game-five loss to the Celtics.

In case you were focused on the Ducks-Wings game (why?) and missed the Magic Meltdown, you should know Mickey’s team blew a double-digit fourth-quarter lead and lost a second-straight winnable game to the creaky Celtics, who continue to thrive despite using Brian Scalabrine for long stretches. Afterward, The Hedgehog criticized his team for failing to play with the same intensity it had for the first 44 minutes of action, and Howard countered by accusing The ‘Hog of poor substitution decisions and the inability to get his one-trick pivot the ball.

After a choreographed Wednesday sit-down, in which the air was cleared, grievances considered and other clichés covered, the two men pronounced the situation closed and girded themselves for a must-win Thursday night in Mousetown, where fans sitting courtside are advised to wear body armor to ward off injury in the event of Big Babies that leave the field of play. The meeting may have served some fine P.R. purposes, but it didn’t necessarily address the biggest concern the Magic – and by extension the NBA – has, namely the league’s insistence on conferring superstar status (with considerable help from its propaganda partners) on players who haven’t yet achieved enough to warrant such consideration.

There is no doubt Howard is a physically talented player. Seven-footers who can dash from end-to-end, jump like Dwight Stones and have shoulders wide enough to hold Mo’Nique and Much-Mo’Nique can’t be found on Amazon.com. Howard has all of the standard equipment to be great, and there are times when he is a dominant force defensively and blocking shots – although he insists on swatting them out of bounds, rather than merely redirecting them and getting the ball for his team. But this playoff series is proving that his offensive resume consists of the following: dunk, scowl, posture, repeat.

Maybe the reason Howard didn’t get enough “touches” during the final four minutes was that he relies solely on lobs, dishes from players double-teamed on the move and offensive rebounds for his shots. Rarely do you see him park his muscular self on the low block, put a hand in the air and demand the ball with one of those “give-it-to-me-or-I’ll-dismember-you” looks. When he does get the ball in a post-up situation, he lacks a legitimate drop-step move, baby hook, turnaround jumper or any other big-man staple that will get him points in crucial situations. If he ain’t dunking, he ain’t scoring. That’s not The Hedgehog’s fault.

And as for Howard’s renowned rebounding prowess, he may pile up 20 against Memphis, but he failed to get two biggies against the Celtics. The first came on Rajon Rondo’s airball (the NBA brass ruled that the ball grazed the rim and later said that the Mighty Casey actually made contact on that third strike), when a Howard board would have rendered all arguments pointless. The second came on Ray Allen’s wayward J in the last minute that would have given Orlando the ball with a chance to tie or go ahead. In both cases, a Howard rebound – against Kendrick Perkins, Big Baby and Scalabrine – would have made a huge difference.

The point here is that while The Hedgehog might have derailed a little momentum with his substitution patterns, Howard’s inability to act and play like a star in moments of crisis were just as damaging to the Magic cause. A lot of that stems from his youth. The guy is only 23, for crying out loud. He is still caught up in the whole “Superman” thing and likes wearing capes. He and his pals do pushups before they go out, the better to look as jacked as possible for the ladies in the clubs. (As if he could look any more ripped.) Howard remains a novice in terms of knowing how to win in the NBA, so he can be forgiven for some of his behavior. He also gets a pass because of the league’s decision to feature him as one of its preeminent players. The guy hasn’t won anything yet. His team hasn’t gotten out of the second round of the playoffs during his five years in the league. And, yet, he’s already a superstar. How do you expect him to act when things go badly? Of course he’s going to look around him, rather than focusing on what he could have done.

Boston, meanwhile, is soldiering on without Kevin Garnett or reserve forward Leon Powe. It is getting big contributions from Rondo and Big Baby, while veterans Paul Pierce and Allen do their usual business. When the Celtics lose, you don’t hear excuses, because champions don’t search for back doors. Of course this would be a different series with a healthy KG. In fact, it would probably be over by now. And if Boston loses to the Magic (not likely) or the Cavaliers (highly likely), coach Doc Rivers won’t curse fate or his players, and they won’t kill him. Howard would do well to pay attention when Boston’s season ends, the better to learn how to behave the next time things get tight. Better yet, he should craft a plan for what he’ll say when Orlando packs it in, because it looks like that’s happening a couple weeks earlier than the Celtics’ demise.

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EL HOMBRE SEZ: Here’s a message to all those 20-somethings who insist on putting their every trip to the bathroom on YouTube: Because of you geniuses and your videos of Port-a-Potty fun, no one is allowed to bring alcohol into Pimlico’s infield for the Preakness anymore. It will save thousands of livers, sure, but what about all those poor neighborhood kids who make $20 a shot transporting the coolers from parking spaces to the track? Talk about a tragic economic loss. Shame on you. Really…How can you tell when Roger Clemens is lying? Just look for the microphone. Looks like Jon Lovitz will have to start working out now to play the Rocket in his biopic. Anyone who votes for him for the Hall of Fame should expect a sales call from Ricky Roma about property in Rio Rancho…If it’s true that USC coach Tim Floyd paid $1,000 to a street agent to secure the services of O.J. Mayo, that’s quite a bargain. Twenty years ago, that’s what Kentucky supposedly tried to ship to Chris Mills’ father. Given inflation, Mayo’s agent should have asked for at least double that…Urban Meyer said recently that anybody who criticizes the Florida football program “isn’t a Gator.” It was a thinly-veiled shot at former UF quarterback Shane Matthews, who questioned the team’s offensive strategy after last year’s loss to Mississippi. Here’s a quick primer for Meyer: You were born in Ohio, coached at Utah before coming to Gainesville and have about a one in a billion chance at finishing your career at Florida. Matthews, meanwhile, played at Florida, took shots from angry defenders for Florida and graduated from the school. You, coach, are just passing through and need to stop complaining when people criticize you…Dallas QB Tony Romo failed in his bid to qualify for the U.S. Open but wasn’t too broken up about the failure, since he has had plenty of practice blowing big opportunities on the field with the Cowboys…Delaware State’s football program is already 0-1 for the 2009 season, because it backed out of a game against North Carolina A&T to play Michigan for a fat payday Oct. 17, and the schools couldn’t agree on a replacement date. In a related story, the Wolverines are trying to help DSU find another game for that date, so that they can start the year with a 1-0 record, just like A&T.

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YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? The Mole checked in Wednesday night with an extremely pertinent question: “Is Jamie Moyer the 800-pound gorilla in the room?” His query came as Moyer was completing his third consecutive shaky outing, this one a 4-1/3 inning gem that featured eight hits and seven earned runs. It came on the heels of another seven-run debacle that he unfurled last Saturday against the Letsgoes and which lasted a shade over two frames. Moyer is 3-3 with an 8.15 ERA and is a couple lousy starts away from forcing the Phillies to make a decision they don’t want to confront. Moyer was outstanding last year, winning 16 games for the World Champions and throwing on three days rest down the stretch. He was the AARP poster boy and a medical phenomenon who was still beguiling batters at his advanced age. Things are different this year. It’s not as if Moyer has lost some miles off his fastball, because that would mean the ball would actually be traveling backwards. No, the problem here is accuracy. A few inches here or there mean a lot to a pitcher like Moyer, who like older golfers, may be losing his precision, often the first thing to go as the aging process takes hold. It wouldn’t be unusual to see Moyer slip quickly, either. Warren Spahn went 23-7 with a 2.60 ERA at age 42. The next season, he was 6-13, with a 5.29 ERA and went 7-16 the next campaign, his last. Moyer may not be headed for a Spahn-like splashdown, but he is danger of deteriorating more slowly, not the best news for a team with a shaky rotation and two years (and $13 mil) invested in a man who is closer to 50 than 40. Moyer gets a big benefit of the doubt for his meritorious service and hometown pedigree, but as long as he keeps giving up hockey sticks every time out, he’s looking more and more like a big problem the Phillies will have to address.

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AND ANOTHER THING: El Hombre has to make a confession: When he was a Nino, he used to get angry at Chuck Daly when he coached the University of Pennsylvania. Even though Daly won four straight Ivy titles at the beginning of his tenure, his teams faltered during the final two campaigns and lost a combined five league games, practically disastrous given Penn’s success before that. For a young Quaker fan who had to deal with Princeton types at school, this was tough sledding. But as the years went on, it became impossible not to appreciate Daly’s talents. He turned the Pistons into the nastiest, winningest team in the NBA, was the perfect squire for the Dream Team and continued to lead franchises to successful years through the end of his coaching career. And he did it with class and (always) style. Last year, El Hombre had the opportunity to interview Daly for an article about the ’92 Olympic juggernaut. As always, Daly was cordial, informative and insightful. His description of the “rock star” life the team led in Barcelona was classic. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” he said. “The fans were eight deep outside the hotel. There were a lot of concerns about our safety. We had two cars parked out front of the hotel and two in the back. We would take the ones in the back and drive against the traffic every time, with a motorcyclist carrying an Uzi behind us.” Daly’s death from pancreatic cancer last week touched a lot of coaches here in the Philadelphia area and resonates with many fans who knew and appreciated basketball. Daly may have been known most for his perfect hair and fabulous wardrobe, but he should be best remembered as a gentleman who knew basketball and treated people with dignity at all times. His death is a big loss.

-EH-