You have to sign a general D-League contract in order to be eligible for the draft. The league has a vetting process to make sure that only the most qualified people are in the draft pool.
The final list of players eligible for the D-League draft was just released. I was not one of the 261 people on the list. That is going to make things quite difficult for me in the “getting drafted” department.
I had a small chance of being selected even if I was eligible, but it would have been nice to be included. Particularly because of some of the other players that made the cut.
I want to look at some of the shorter people that are in the draft pool, because they are presumably my competition. Keep in mind that everyone listed at 6’0 is probably 5’10, and everyone listed at 5’11 is more like 5’8. That’s just the way basketball works.
For instance, see Courtney Lee, and his 6’5 listing.
I played some pickup against Lee a few years ago, and he is MAYBE 6’3 if he is wearing thick soled shoes and did an hour of yoga that morning. But there is no downside to listing yourself as taller than you are, so you’d be foolish not to.
And just to be clear, I am the last person to denigrate someone just because they are relatively unknown. There are tons of people out there who can thrive if they get an opportunity. Maybe one of these guys will get drafted and have a great career, and if so, more power to them. One of them might have absolutely killed during a tryout. Who knows. It’s just from where I’m sitting, these people seem to be particularly under qualified for inclusion in the draft. Continue reading “Who Are These Guys??”
Utah forward Jeremy Evans recently had this fantastic sequence of events.
A monstrous block, a mind-blowing dunk, and then a great hustle play to deflect a pass out of bounds, all in about 10 seconds. That was pretty cool to watch. But what I want to talk about, if I can put on my snobby, basketball purist hat, is how people are going to say things like “Evans is the most athletic player in the league!”
Athleticism is not all about who can jump the highest and run the fastest. (And I’m not just saying that because I have as many career dunks as Mike Penberthy.) Knowing angles, having a quick first step, and having exquisite body control all play a huge role in how “athletic” someone is. Continue reading “What is Athleticism?”
I finally went back and looked through the comments on my first Term post. Two people posted music videos asking if the Term I was talking about was the one in the video. I didn’t even bother looking at them. I assumed there was no way Term was a rapper. I just couldn’t see it.
Well, lo and behold, Term is an aspiring hip hop artist. He goes by ‘El Jefe.’ I had to look that up to see it was spanish for The Boss. Kind of apropos that he would go with a Rick Ross esque name after clearly being inspired by the Boss’ beard. Continue reading “Term Update”
It all began around 10:30 at night, when I decided to get out of my apartment for some fresh air. I had not left the apartment all day, and figured I would just go to the little park nearby for some stretching and maybe a few jumping exercises. So I head downstairs, but just as I get to the bottom I realized there were trash bags in the kitchen that I wanted to throw in the dumpster. I went back upstairs, got the trash, disposed of it outside, and headed over to the park. I did some stretches, proceeded over to the grass to jump a little, then reached into my pocket to change the song on my ipod. That is when everything fell apart. Continue reading “My Night As A Bum”
Still hurt, which sucks. Yesterday the assistant trainer told me that he thought I might be out for longer than he originally thought. He compared my injury to Troy Polamalu’s, and he’s supposed to be out 3-6 weeks.
It’s interesting how the pro football player got X-Rays and MRI’s, and he has a nice, semi-defined return date. I on the other hand got a glance and a simple “don’t worry, this happens to soccer players all the time. 10 days to 6 weeks.” Uhh, thanks?
So I go to the trainer today. And by go to the trainer I mean drive 10 miles, realize I don’t have coins for parking, get there too early, sit in my car sweating because I don’t want to turn the air on because I am so low on gas, ask a passing meter checker lady if she can make change and get denied, and finally heading inside after I borrow money from the trainer. Continue reading “Griping and Rambling”