No More Two-Face

One of the things that we teach at my school is that you can't be successful when you live a double-life. This of course makes sense for young people trying to navigate the rigors of drugs, gangs, pregnancy, and school. But strangely, it also makes sense for the lowly, yet loved Denver Nuggets. Against Dallas, in a must-win game, the Nuggets gave up 70 points in the first half but only 35 in the second half. What the hell?

Such a boxscore indicates the double-life being lived, rather dangerously at the moment, by the Denver Nuggets. We further teach that those who live a double-life end up being consumed by the negative life. And the aforementioned is my fear for the despicably talented men from Mile-Hi.

Caveat: The Nuggets are the only team in the league capable of out-run-and-gunning the Golden State Warriors, who they are beating at the very moment I'm typing these words. So keep it up boys, at least for tonight.

Return to Truth: The Nuggets must give up their double living ways if they hope to achieve success: as this season ends, during the playoffs, and in the future. George Karl made his reputation by beating up thugs in bars (ask about the scar some day) and also by coaching brilliantly defensive teams. This reputation has not followed him to the land of Kroenke, and I think Doug Moe is partly to blame here folks. Nonetheless, the playoffs are always about defense. And the Nuggets are certainly capable of playing defense.

More elaborate analysis: By playing tough defense, the Nuggets tend to fall into horrific offensive duldrums, which also presents major problems in the regular and post seasons. So the key is this: watch more videotape of John Stockton running a half-court offense & watch video of Magic and Lakers who had a reasonable defense paired effectively with an up-tempo offense. Or they could just get some reasonable coaching from their coach who is smart enough to solve this dilemma for $5 million a season. I could figure it out for 10% of that figure, but no one's asking. Yodavice: figure it out they must or suffer the same fate as Porkins they will. (Porkins got blown up trying to destroy the Death Star, poor bastard.)

F#%k Paul Westhead

It's fitting that the Nuggets exploded for a massive 168 point effort against a team that features run-n-gun guru Paul Westhead as an assistant coach. Westhead is the man for whom the motto "You don't need defense if you can score 120 every night" was all but tattood on his chest until his early-1990's Nuggets averaged close to 120 only to give up 130 on a nightly basis. But it appears as if the ghost of old Westhead has reared his slicked back head once again in D-Town, Doug Moe withstanding, as the Nuggets have reeled off a string of absurdly high scoring victories against mediocre opponents.

Like most things in the world that appear joyous and funtastical, I have a problem with this spate of overzealous - three-pointer Mr. Martin, coming right up - shootfests. It masks the true dilemma that this team faces as it fights for a playoff spot against likeminded Golden State, the two-faced Phoenix Suns, and the suddenly geriatric Mavs: No Defense.

Yes, I will readily admit that having Marcus Camby on your roster gives you some defensive credibility, and the addition of a healthy and vivacious Kenyon Martin only adds to that credibility, but the Nuggets really don't have to play defense if they can out-Westhead teams like Seattle who are coached, in part, by Westhead himself. There's no need for defense in such situations. In fact, there's very little need to even send 5 players to play defense. Unfortunately for all of us in D-Town, plus Mike D'Antoni and Don Nelson, this style of ball just doesn't work in the playoffs, which is where the Nuggets would like showcase their talented if dysfunctional roster full of huggedy-thuggedy misfits.

I have no problem if the Nuggets score 120, 138, or even 168 points on nightly basis. All the better I say, especially with the ghost of Patrick Ewing's New York Knicks defensive teams still fresh in my young memory. But you absolutely cannot think you're a great team if you give up 105, 110, or 120 either. 'Cause the playoffs will take such an erroneous philosophical mindset and digest it with bacon and then shit out something horrific that resembles much of what the Nuggets have had to consume as first round losers the last 4 years.

But it sure is nice to see Chucky Atkins hitting those 3's. Thanks, you've been great, I'm here all week.

Why I don't like the Nuggets right now

I was born in the last 30 years, so I had to rent the really cool war movies that had very little historical accuracy but a whole lot of macho-palling-around-and-blowing-shit-up scenes. I'm thinking Kelly's Heroes and The Guns of the Navarone, both of which would have been sweet in the theater. And they're the perfect date movies for the girl you might like but you need to test first. "Yeah baby, we're gonna go see The Guns of the Navarone. Trust me, you'll love it." Or, "This movie has Don Rickles as a soldier - it doesn't get any better than that."

But I count myself lucky nonetheless because the Denver Nuggets are their own tongue-in-cheek WWII pal movie. Melo is the young captain with little experience but a whole lot of gumption. A.I. is the cocky major who lets the young captain think he's in charge until the shit hits the fan. Camby is the savvy expert in weapons or explosives or cliff climbing. He does his one thing well and without him, the Nazis would surely kill everyone in the first 30 minutes. Kenyon Martin is the muscle - know what I'm sayin? JR Smith is the impulsive youngster who might botch the whole mission, but might just as likely be the savior. And then there's the shifty foreigners - Kleiza and Najera - who you sort of don't trust even though they do just enough to keep them on the mission. Coach Karl is the crotchety old general that the soldiers love even though he's drunk most of the time and misses crucial bits of information that would make the mission less dangerous. And there are a couple of other guys who don't really do or say anything in the whole movie; they just kind of show up every few scenes.

Every time I hit the Pepsi Center for a game, it's like I get to see Von Ryan's Express on the big screen. Only, this particular war movie sucks. Why? Because the zany commandos don't even fucking make it to the Nazis' secret underground lair. They're still trying to convince the greasy boat operator to take them to the lair in the middle of the night. Damnit people, when you're more than halfway through the movie, you better be scouting the enemy's camp. Otherwise, you won't have enough time to blow it up and make your cool getaway. Who wants to watch a buddy war movie where the pals all get stuck at the warf because they couldn't catch a ride? Ridiculous. Ridiculous I say again.

These guys better figure it out quick. If they don't, nothing will explode, there will be no heroes, and for damn sure nobody's getting laid.

"Hey Clint, think I'll get an Oscar nod for this one?"