Looking back on the golden age of basketball

ON BASKETBALL

Try to imagine this — a superstar college player today, say John Wall, who would tell confidantes that he'd play in the NBA for free. Yeah, not happening, right? 

Well, that's exactly what Larry Bird said upon the completion of his career at Indiana State as he prepared to join the Boston Celtics. He was so grateful for the opportunity, money didn't matter to him. He just wanted to continue playing the game he loved at its highest level.

Perhaps I'm extremely biased at the moment, considering I just finished reading the second of back-to-back books about Bird and his rival Magic Johnson, but I don't think most basketball experts would disagree with this — the game will never be as delightful or full of as much passion it was 25 to 30 years ago.

Blame society. Blame the media. Blame agents. Blame scouting services that start dissecting kids' crossovers and left hands when they're 6. All of the above have made the basketball scene today less about kids playing for the love of the game and more about money, exposure and such things as "The Summer of 2010."

It's not surprising. It's simply the evolution of society. But that means that now, more than ever, people my age and younger need to read such books as "When March Went Mad: The Game that Transformed March" and "When the Game was Ours," which both chronicle the careers of Bird and Magic — with the former focusing entirely on the 1979 season that concluded with the historic national-title game between Michigan State and Indiana in Salt Lake City and the latter, while overlapping, chronicling the careers of the pair of basketball icons.

I wasn't born until late in 1983 and my family didn't even own a TV until 1994, so I missed out on all things Bird and Magic. Through reading such books, however, not to mention watching ESPN Classic programs, I've gained a great appreciation and admiration for them and all the basketball stars of the eras before theirs that were marked by players working second jobs to support their families.

Yes, it's much easier to appreciate the feats of of players who made only a small percentage of the money that average players pull in today. (And that did relate to players showing incredible effort each game.) But outside of that, what stands out about Bird and Magic was the way they went about playing the game. There was never a personal agenda. They never played for their next contract. Rather, the games were always about winning, and that started with creating opportunities for their much less-gifted teammates. 

Not surprisingly, their unselfishness translated to matters off the court. After his career, Bird went back to his high school in French Lick, Ind., one afternoon to work out only to come across cheerleaders using the gym. They offered half the gym up to Bird, but he told them to go ahead and finish practice and stretched for 45 minutes while he waited. 

By no means am I bashing the state of basketball today or modern-day players. In fact, I probably watch more college hoops than I ever have. And come May, I'll be watching the long slog that is the NBA Playoffs every night. The games are exciting, the storylines juicy, the talent on the court incredible. 

But any young player today could benefit from popping in a DVD of how the game was played in the 1980s or reading a few books about teams like the 1979 Sycamores, who were made up of Bird and a bunch of nobodies. Wait, check that. Even Bird was considered a nobody to many in college basketball before he took the grand stage at the Final Four. 

Through playing team basketball and not worrying about any outside sources or distractions, Bird and his ragtag group were able to win an astounding 33 consecutive games before finally falling flat against the Spartans in the title game. 

And get this: To this day, here almost 31 years later, no basketball game has garnered higher TV ratings. None. It's a telltale sign of how big the game was then and how hyped up a single game could be despite the lack of multimedia sources that we now have today. Thirty years ago, it was all about the players and the game. 

Today, college basketball remains an incredible spotlight. The NCAA Tournament and its 65-team field is the greatest spectacle in American sports each March. Millions upon millions of Americans — whether hoops fans or not — fill out brackets and then tune in for the games. But in a sign of the era, there has been talk this season about expanding the tournament to 96 teams, which is just a horrific idea, and that talk, of course, is spurred by money. 

The title of Magic and Larry's book "When the Game was Ours" is perfect. Because back then, they did get a ton of attention for their exploits on the court — and rightfully so. Beginning with that 1979 title game, basketball went through a golden age in the 1980s when the NBA was at its best as Bird's Celtics battled Magic's Lakers in spectacularly hard-fought games and the NCAA had some of its greatest, most improbable championship games.

The basketball scene is still great today, and it could be even better if young players and fans alike read up on the era that predated them and learned to appreciate what it was all about.

A huge fall from grace for college hoops' best

ON COLLEGE BASKETBALL

I tend to think that I watch A LOT of college basketball and know a good deal about teams, players, rankings, and all that pizzazz. 

But, I swear, before Sunday afternoon I barely remembered that Louisville — yes, that unranked team led by that suddenly not-so-faithful coach — was a game away from, yes, the Final Four a season ago. Hard to believe, I know. But the Cardinals were a very good basketball team in March 2010.

They lost some talented players, of course — Terrence Williams, meet the New Jersey Nets and the true definition of a losing team — and that's a reason for falling from the ranks of the country's best. But before shocking Syracuse inside the Carrier Dome Sunday afternoon, I didn't have the Cardinals pegged as an NCAA Tournament team. Now they might sneak into the Dance and hang out for a few days.

Which isn't a bad fate compared to what North Carolina and Connecticut are going through. These are the truly shocking falls from grace. On a Monday night last April, I found myself in a swarm of thousands of yelling, burning, telephone-pole climbing college students — and others — dominating Franklin Street in Chapel Hill. Just minutes earlier in Detroit, the Heels had thoroughly outplayed Michigan State to win Roy Williams his second national title in five seasons.

And ol' Roy must have felt on top of the world. Until this season hit.

In the lead-up to the season, life seemed pretty close to perfect in town. Sure, there were the expected departures of the Heels' top four players. But there still remained a strong mix of experience and talent. Enough so that national pundits called the Heels a top-five team nationally and those in ACC country put them right up on top of the conference with Duke.

Oh, and Williams also got a commitment from the Class of 2010's top player (and scholar) Harrison Barnes. Utopia? Yes, it seemed...

Meanwhile, in Storrs, Conn., no one expected the Huskies to earn a repeat trip to the Final Four after the departures of their top two players — including big man Hasheem Thabeet as the No. 2 pick in the NBA Draft. However, plenty of talent and experience remained, which garnered the Huskies a spot in the top 20 of most college hoops writers and allowed for pretty decent expectations, especially with the Big East supposed to have a down year.

Well, as the kids text these days, "Haha."

North Carolina is squarely on the bubble ... to make the NIT. (OK, the Heels are probably in good shape, at 14-11 and 3-7 in the ACC, to qualify for the tournament no one cares about; but that's the point. They're irrelevant nationally, except as the answer to this question: Which team has had the most inexplicably disappointing season). Connecticut, meanwhile, is in a similar position at 14-11 and 4-8 in the Big East.

So what's happened? What's gone wrong? I'm not going to delve into X's and O's since I haven't been around either team, haven't talked to players, haven't watched film during lonely nights on my couch (instead, I've spent such lonely nights catching up on the "Jersey Shore" phenomenon, but that's besides the point).

What this speaks to, more than anything, is that winning is never guaranteed, can never be taken for granted. A lot of the time, I think, casual observers, fans, broadcasters — heck, anybody, really — takes this approach. Because they're the Tar Heels and are led by Roy Williams and a host of All-Americans, we expect W's. And when there's a surprising loss to College of Charleston, we all know that Roy will push his players through a grueling practice that will result in inspired performances in the following games.

That's the way things go, right? The more talented teams, the teams with the HOF coaches, the teams with 100 years of glorious history win a lot of games. Some years aren't as great as others, but relatively. Maybe 23 wins and a trip to the second round of the NCAA Tournament instead of a national title. You know, disappointing ... but wait until next year.

Well, that's been far from the case in Chapel Hill and Storrs this season. Williams has admitted to not being able to get a handle on how to, well, handle his team, on which buttons to push to get the most out of his players. The Heels absolutely have Sweet 16 talent, not to mention experience, but they haven't shown enough toughness late in games, they've resembled an unconfident bunch of players rather than players who were on a national-title squad a year ago.

At Connecticut, it's been easier to put the Huskies' struggles into tangible matter. They can't shoot 3-pointers, so opposing teams have bunched in their defenses. Add to that the health problems that kept HOFer Jim Calhoun off the sideline for a few weeks, and it's not a huge surprise — but still one — that they've struggled so much. 

But what's transpired at North Carolina is truly amazing and again a testament to the Chris Berman phrase, "That's why they play the game!"

If anything, this season has taught us that only a couple numbers matter: Yep, you guessed it — the points on the scoreboard for your team and your opponent. Next year, the Heels will again be graced with high expectations. Barnes and a cadre of other high-profile recruits will join the Heels' talented squad. 

But unless they learn how to win, don't pen-in a huge improvement in wins (as hard as that would be to comprehend). The same can be said of Connecticut and Louisville. The Cardinals showed Sunday what they're capable of, as they played a smart, tough game to depart the Dome with a monumental upset of the third-ranked Orange. But is it a sign of things to come or simply an aberration?

Only time will tell, but for now this season stands as one of the most confounding in recent memory — and a lesson to all of us that you can't just patch together a good team with a group of talented kids and a great coach.

Winning each season takes a lot of work and a strong belief in one another. For three powerhouses of a year ago, and many other years, that has not been the case since Midnight Madness.

Timely coaching decisions boost Saints to first Super Bowl

ON FOOTBALL

As I grabbed a refreshing beverage, popped open the Tostitos and salsa and found an open seat on the couch Sunday evening, I prepared my mental notebook for the seemingly inevitable. On American sports' biggest stage, which coach would make the faulty decisions, call the bad timeouts, try the wrong plays in the wrong situations?

In short, which coach would help cost his team a chance at the Lombardi Trophy. It happens every year — with enormous pressure on his shoulders, a coach isn't thinking clearly and hurts his team. Heck, sometimes both coaches enter the realm of boneheaded mistakes and cancel each other out.

But on Sunday, rather, Sean Payton made such smart decisions — such keen gambles — that he, along with field-goal kicker Garret Hartley, should have gotten a share of Drew Brees' MVP trophy. Payton didn't have any previous experience to prove he'd be on top of his game on football's biggest stage, and I did question a bit his decision to run the ball on a fourth-and-goal toward the end of the first half that was stuffed by the Colts.

From there, however, he was impeccable. 

On Indianapolis' next drive, with the Colts leading 10-3, Payton smartly didn't immediately use his timeouts, knowing that the other Peyton, that Manning guy, had the ball and could quickly turn a one-possession game into a bit of a hole leading into the locker room (not to mention a huge momentum shift). Instead, Payton let enough time off the clock to almost give the sense that the Saints were conceding the half, and then he called time after second and third down (a short-yardage situation that the Saints stifled) to give Brees just enough time to drive New Orleans into field-goal range. Smart coaching.

But not as genius as his first call of the third quarter. It's funny — as Jim Nantz was mentioning before the second-half kickoff Manning's lack of on-field time in the second quarter, I got a quick feeling that the Saints would try an onside kick. Sure, it would be a huge risk. A Colts recovery would almost certainly lead to points and a shift in the momentum. However, it was also the perfect time to execute it.

The teams had just come out of the locker room after a long halftime of The Who. Everyone was expecting a traditional kickoff and a return to normal football. So the kick caught the Colts off guard, and after a player in blue and white lunged at the ball and missed, a wild pileup occurred. And the Saints recovered. That, predictably, led to a touchdown and New Orleans' first lead of the game.

The Saints' offense got going by executing a flurry of short passes that allowed Brees to get rid of the pigskin before Dwight Freeny or any other Colt could eat him for dinner. Smart play-calling.

Manning, of course, answered with a touchdown drive of his own, and the Colts held a slim 17-16 lead into the middle of the fourth quarter. But by that point, Brees was in a zone and there was no stopping the Saints' attack. Until, it appeared, Lance Moore dropped a two-point conversion attempt that would have given New Orleans a seven-point advantage.

Except Payton saw differently. I originally blasted the coach from my comfy seat out of the spotlight, afraid he had burned one of his treasured timeouts in such a close game. But a closer look provided evidence that Moore had possession and was in the end zone before the ball was knocked loose. The refs agreed. The Saints won the challenge. Huge, gutsy call by Payton.

As it turned out, the conversion was a moot point in the 14-point victory. But it easily could have come into play. Manning looked destined to drive the Colts to a game-tying drive until his third-down pass landed squarely in the abdomen of famous-quarterbacks-killer Tracy Porter, who ran 74 yards with the ball for the game's final score.

Still, Manning drove Indy back down the field and appeared, again, on the verge of getting his team in the end zone and making things interesting — only to run out of downs. A touchdown on either of the possessions would have brought that conversion into play.

So what stood out to me about Super Bowl XLIV? 

How well-played it was. Brees was near perfect, completing 32 of 39 passes and not throwing an interception. The Saints didn't turn the ball over and committed just three penalties for 19 yards. That's incredible. Hartley set a Super Bowl record by connecting on three field goals of 40-plus yards (44, 46, 47). Amazing.

On the other side, the Colts played extremely well, too — except for a few I'll-be-thinking-obsessively-about-that-play-for-at-least-the-next-164-days happenings. Manning was a very solid 31-of-45 for 333 yards and a touchdown ... not including the interception. They didn't turn the ball over — besides you know what — and had just five penalties. Jim Caldwell was rock-solid in his Super Bowl debut.

But the game came down to a couple huge plays, the accurate leg of a young kicker coming off the greatest moment of his life a fortnight prior, and risky but smart coaching by a man who will no doubt be locked up as a head coach for a long time to come.

And citizens of a city nearly destroyed four-plus years ago can now celebrate for the foreseeable future, knowing that their football team is run and led by a coach and players who when given the biggest stage, are at their best.

Lucky for the billions watching Sunday night, we were all witnesses to the flawless execution.

And not surprisingly, Saints players punctuated the night with a perfect Gatorade drenching of their so-deserving leader as the game clock neared 0:00.

Federer wins another major, but that's not even the story

ON TENNIS

Roger Federer won another grand slam Sunday night in Melbourne, defeating Andy Murray 6-3, 6-4, 7-6 (11) to give him 16 for his career. At 28, he now owns two more than Pete Sampras — and he's showing no signs of slowing down or deciding to take a break from such pursuits.

But don't be mistaken — the Federer who kissed another trophy Sunday wasn't the same player who a few years ago crushed opponents with an intimidating assortment of serves, groundstrokes, volleys and fist pumps. Federer might be the world's No. 1, but by no means is there a large or even small gap between him and the rest of the world's best such as Murray, Rafael Nadal (when healthy), Novak Djokovic and Juan Martin del Potro, who thwarted Federer, surprisingly at the time, in last September's U.S. Open.

Rather, Sunday was about another missed opportunity for Murray, the 22-year-old Brit who is trying to win a grand slam for the country that hasn't celebrated one since 1936. Murray, as he's shown in lesser tournaments, is physically capable of beating Federer, but in the spectacle of Rod Laver Arena he was clearly far from his best.

Which is why Federer won. Sure, he played very impressively and consistently, hitting the big groundstrokes and volleys when he needed them — fighting off five set points in the third-set tiebreak — but if Murray had played like he did in his quarterfinal dismantling of Nadal (who withdrew down two sets and a knee injury), he probably could have beaten Federer or at least pushed him for more than three sets.

For instance, Murray's backhand is considered the best in men's tennis, but he only matched Federer with six backhand winners. And his 55-percent serving percentage Sunday won't win many grand slam finals.

What Federer does better than ever now is take advantage of his opponent's mistakes. Whenever Murray hit a lazy backhand to Federer's forehand, the four-time Aussie Open champ made sure to pound it toward a corner of the court and won most of those points. He didn't waste his chances. 

Murray, on the other hand, had a handful of opportunities to win the third set and put a little pressure on Federer. But at 6-5 in the tiebreak, he muffed a short forehand into the net, and he blew another four opportunities to win the set during the ridiculous 13-11 tiebreak. 

Federer hardly showed a hint of emotion during the tiebreak, simply going about his business like a convenience-store clerk. He attacked Murray when he had opportunities and played defense when he had to. He was completely comfortable, while Murray — feeling the burden of an entire country's hopes on his shoulders — clearly looked stressed as desperate as he was to win his first set against the world's No. 1 in a major (he's now 0-6 in sets).

Of course, it should be noted that this match might have been decided well before the epic tiebreak. Murray, admittingly, came out with little aggressiveness and lost the first set quickly, 6-3. That brought into play this ridiculous Federer statistic (and he owns many): He is now 172-5 when he takes the first set of a grand-slam match.

Ouch.

"I should have come out with a little more vigor at the beginning of the match," a tearful Murray said on the trophy stand. "I came out a little bit nervous."

(On a side note, Federer knows how to trash talk. On Friday, Federer mused that England hadn't produced a grand-slam winner in "150,000" years and bad-mouthed Murray's defensive style, saying that he had lost rather than Murray won the Brit's previous defeats of Federer in lesser tournaments. Who knows how much the banter affected Murray, if at all, but it certainly didn't hurt Federer, who, obviously, is far from "just talk.")

When he dropped the second set 6-4, Murray knew the mountain he had to climb, but he didn't get rattled and rolled to a 5-2 advantage in the third set. I poured myself a bowl of cereal and prepared for a fourth set. However, Federer is never one to concede a set, or point, or game, and he showed this by battling back and winning two service games sandwiched around a break. And a few minutes later, a tiebreak in Melbourne was imminent.

And that's where talent and athleticism take a backseat to experience and savvy. Murray showed a lot of guts to fight off two match points, including one in which he looked toast before hustling to slap a one-handed backhand past Federer at the net. But Federer showed off his own defense — easily the most underrated part of his game at this stage of his career — throughout the tiebreak and especially on a set point where he could barely get his racket on a huge forehand and survived a wide Murray volley.

Then, suddenly, it was over — on an easy backhand that Murray plopped into the net. And Federer's celebration was brief and, it seemed, one of relief. He thrust his arms into the air, tears welling in his eyes. And at that moment, he knew how great of a victory No. 16 was, he knew the caliber of player he'd just defeated.

"I think I played some of my best tennis (of my career) the last two weeks," Federer said during the trophy presentation. 

And later during his press conference: "I feel like obviously I'm being pushed a great deal by the new generation coming up. They've made me a better player, because I think this has been one of my finest performances in a long time, maybe forever."

Now that's saying something.

Best performance ever? I can't name a match, but I'm sure Federer has played plenty of flawless ones. However, his statement still resonates. He knows that there will be no more easy-earned majors, no more coasting over inferior, intimidated opponents. And that's perfectly fine with the man who now has two twins, a beautiful wife and, oh, those 16 majors.

The young guns will get theirs, at some point — think about how many majors players such as Murray, Nadal, Djokovic, the older Andy Roddick (27) and others would have if not for Federer — but for now, Federer unspectacularly remains the best winner in men's tennis.

Even if his competitors are mostly quicker and, you would think, hungrier.

Serena Williams simply the best

ON TENNIS

If I had any doubt before, it's now completely squashed, nonexistent, gone until I see a change.

Serena Williams, to put it bluntly, is the best women's tennis player in the world — and no one's really that close to her. As people are waking up on the East Coast this morning, they're reading or hearing that Williams won her 12th grand slam much earlier in Melbourne, defeating Justine Henin in three sets 6-4, 3-6, 6-2. And they might sarcastically mutter, "Big deal. She's ranked No. 1 in the world. Henin isn't even ranked!"

True. But if you watched Williams during this Aussie Open, you know that she faced some of the stiffest competition she's had to go through to claim a major. In the quarterfinals, Williams put on an absolutely spectacular and dominant display of tennis to overcome a seemingly insurmountable one-set, 0-4 deficit against seventh seed Victoria Azarenka, who was playing the match of her life. 

It was truly incredible, because Williams looked dead for the first 14 games of the match. She had no life, no energy. Her groundstrokes had the power of an elderly couple's at the local recreation center. I mean, she was getting run off the court by the young 20-year-old from Belarus. 

But then Williams hit a couple strong shots, dropped a few aces and all of a sudden, she was unstoppable. She won eight of the match's final 10 games, including a tiebreaker in the second set. And it wasn't as if Azarenka's play dropped off. She was still pounding the ball, still hitting her spots.

It didn't matter, however. 

In the course of an hour, Williams showed that when she's on her game, she's unbeatable. And she never chokes, never shows chinks in her armor (side note: doesn't it look, sometimes, like she's actually wearing armor the way she's built?)

The day after the Azarenka match, which lasted well over two hours, Williams was back on the court taking on the surprise No. 16 seed Li Na, one of two Chinese women in the semifinals — an unprecedented feat. Li had come back to defeat the other Williams sister, Venus, in the quarterfinals. So she wasn't afraid of Serena, not intimidated by the name. And she, like Azarenka, played the match of her career, pushing the tired Williams all over the court.

But when it mattered most, Williams found that extra gear, didn't show any signs of fatigue, and dominated two tiebreaks 7-4 and 7-1.

(Side note: One of the most impressive things about Williams' most recent feat is that she also won the doubles title with Venus. This meant that on many occasions she played two matches on the same day, and by no means did she and Venus breeze to to the championship; they faced stiff competition along the way. Williams could have told Venus she needed to focus on singles, needed to narrow her outlook to matching the great Billie Jean King with her 12th major. But despite signs of fatigue in the later rounds, she stuck with the doubles and helped win that title a day prior to taking out Henin for the big trophy, the win that will receive much more attention in her bio.)

So get this — over the course of four days, Williams won three singles matches that all spanned three sets AND won two doubles matches. Not bad for a player, 28, who has played professionally for all or parts of 16 seasons and has never been considered one of the most physically fit players on the women's professional tour. 

But she found the energy again in the final, against the seasoned Henin, who won seven majors and was a thorn in Williams' side before retiring in May 2008.  Henin returned to the professional ranks last September and while not ranked, is widely considered, at 27, still one of the best to play the game. Not to mention, one of the toughest.

Henin demonstrated her resolve early Saturday morning, coming back from a set down to grab the momentum with a flurry of pinpoint ground strokes. She steamrolled through the second set and then the first game and two points of the all-or-break third set — heck, she won five straight games and 15 CONSECUTIVE points!

She had all the momentum and looked more energized, less fatigued than Williams. My cousin texted me to say, basically, the match was hers.

Williams, however, had other ideas. First she held serve, buoyed by a couple of her big serves that she always seems to come up with in needy situations. Then she broke Henin, and didn't trail the rest of the match.

How did she do it, how did she summon the energy?

"Honestly, I don't know," Williams said afterward, suggesting that she reminded herself a slew of days off, and a trip to the Super Bowl, were next on her agenda. (Note: Later she said, "I feel like I save all my energy for the final." But really? She seemed to expend a ton of it during those quarterfinal and semifinal victories.)

Whatever the case, Williams showed heart and resolve during that final set, repeatedly pumping her fist after big points as if to remind herself that she'd been there before, that there was a reason she's now 12-3 in grand slam finals. And as she'd done, at different points in the matches, to Azarenka and Li, she finally took a clear advantage over Henin, winning the last four games of the match with an array of strong groundstrokes and un-returnable serves and capitalizing on each unforced error by Henin.

And now, Williams is clearly No. 1 in women's tennis — and could still be for a while longer. Winning both the singles and doubles titles in hot Melbourne proved that. Could she make a run at the 18 majors Martina Navratilova and Chris Evert share? That number seems a long shot, but every time we've doubted Williams, thought she was done, she's proven us wrong. 

So, more than likely, we'll see another handful of majors won by Williams. But for now, all she wants to do is rest — and watch the Super Bowl.

I can't say I blame her. Her last few days had me gasping for air from my recliner.

Breaking news: All-Star games are jokes

ON BASKETBALL

In case you were wondering, there are at least 1,269,568 complete idiots out there. Yep, they're the brain-less souls who voted Allen Iverson a starter in the NBA All-Star Game ahead of players such as Ray Allen, Joe Johnson, Rajon Rondo and, oh, about 1,269,568 other more deserving guards in the Eastern Conference.

Out West, there was almost a repeat to an even more disastrous level, as Tracy McGrady racked up 1,022,492 votes for playing in six games and averaging 3.2 points. Damn, those must have been some impressive, high-flying, jump-out-your-seat-and-spill-your-Coke dunks T-Mac was throwing down. (Or perhaps the one assist he dished out per game was Magic-esque.) I'm sure people have their reasons.

But seriously ... this has gotten ridiculous. The only reason Yao Ming -- who has scored the same amount of points as me this season -- wasn't on the ballot was because he asked to be removed before the year began. Yao was so convinced that his countrymen would be patriotic enough to vote him in, even though he's out for that year, that he had to delete his name. Wow.

This has served as a final nail in the coffin of sports fans for me. NO MORE VOTING FOR ALL-STARS. Period. I wrote about this before the baseball Summer Classic, and this will be the last time I write about it. Because this problem has become so obvious, so glaring, that there's nothing more to be said.

It is 100 percent impossible to make the case that Iverson, even solely judged by numbers, deserves to be an All Star ... or on the second, or third, or even fourth team from the East. The dude's only played in 21 games and averaged 14.3 points. That's good for 78th in the league. I wouldn't even call Iverson a top-100 player this season.

So who cares? I mean, it's the stupid All-Star Game, right? Nobody plays a lick of defense and it's forgotten 6 hours later. And unlike the silly baseball game, it doesn't mean a thing when the playoffs come around.

Well, I don't blame Allen (no, not that Allen; Ray Allen) for speaking out against the Iverson Hypocrisy. Because like it or not, players are often judged, partly, on how many All-Star teams they make and start for. Especially 30, 40 years after they've hung up the sneaks. I've read many books about the all-time greats that played in the '60s and '70s and I've looked through their stats, but it's hard to know how many of their All-Star appearances were legitimate and who got snubbed.

There will be that same issue down the road when kids read about the amazing Allen Iverson and all the appearances he made. (Granted, he has had an astounding career. But still -- wouldn't it be nice if all the statistics were accurate?) Of course, that's wishful thinking, but what isn't is that it'd be easy to snap voting away from the fans.

How many NBA fanatics would honestly stop following the league if they were stripped of their voting privileges? And if any did, then so long suckers! Thankfully, the coaches get to select reserves -- and they'll pick the most deserving players. But that'll still leave one or two deserving players on the outside looking in.

Of course, if Iverson wasn't so selfish he'd give up his spot, knowing he doesn't deserve it. But that, again, might just be asking too much. It ain't happening.

So while I had no intention, really, of watching the All-Star Game (maybe the final 2 minutes, 37 seconds, when the players realize they hate losing and begin to dig down defensively), I feel a tad of remorse for those players denied the privilege because of the 1,269,568 complete idiots out there (and others).

And, I promise, I'll never write about this inane silliness -- yes, redundancy needed -- again.

Harris gets Beilein's message, leads Wolverines to must-have victories

ON BASKETBALL

Much was made of the effort by Michigan's complementary players after the Wolverines upset No. 15 UConn Sunday, giving the team its first "quality win" of the season, really, and inciting a ferocious court-rushing by 13,000-plus starving-for-something-to-celebrate blue and gold-wearing fans.

And rightly so. Because yes, the Wolverines wouldn't have won the 68-63 barnburner without the three 3-pointers from bench player Anthony Wright or the four points, four boards, two assists, two steals and a block registered by Zack Gibson against UConn's massive, twice-as-strong-as-Michigan's front line.

So good work, bench. The Wolverines will need such contributions the rest of the season if they're going to somehow, someway turn this disappointment into anything closely resembling the preseason expectations surrounding the squad that won an NCAA Tournament game a year ago and returned almost everybody.

But let's be honest. Wright could have the game of his life and Gibson could outmuscle 7-footers for 11 rebounds a night, but it wouldn't matter if Manny Harris played the way he did during the first half of Michigan's game against Indiana the other night. Playing at home, in an absolute must-win, the Wolverines' leading scorer looked listless, bored, unconcerned while shooting 0-for-5 and failing to contribute in any tangible manner.

So coach John Beilein did what sparked the Wolverines less than a year ago during a crushing -- at the time -- loss to Iowa. He benched his star with no intention of immediately reinserting him into the lineup even in what was a tight game. Harris needed to get the message that the way he was performing was unacceptable for a player of his stature, of his talent, of his experience.

Message received.

After observing his teammates while getting cold on the bench, Harris finally was called upon by his coach and delivered a dazzling display of Manny being Manny -- the good kind. He entered the game with Michigan ahead by six and soothed the tense Crisler Arena crowd by scoring 17 of his team's next 23 points to turn the Big 10 defensive battle into a blowout. He finished the contest with 21 points.

Of course, that was against Indiana -- a team that has won games based on heart, not talent. After losing their best player for the season before conference play began, the Hoosiers would be excused for packing it in and settling for three or four home wins.

So, no, a similar 11-minute effort wouldn't cut it for Harris, and the Wolverines, against the Huskies Sunday. Which is why although I doubt Beilein was looking ahead with his benching of Harris, it was a smart, portending move. Harris got the message at the right time and didn't need to be sat down Sunday.

Instead, he played a team-high 38 minutes. And Michigan needed him for all 2,280 seconds he was on the court. He scored 18 points, including a clutch 8-for-10 performance from the free-throw line, and grabbed eight huge rebounds against bigger UConn players, including five on the offensive end which helped Michigan score an astonishing 20 second-chance points.

Most importantly, Harris was strong with the ball and patient. Whenever he looks as if he's considering taking a contested 3-point shot, I cringe because, and Harris must know this, he's simply not a good long-range shooter. He often fades away when shooting 3s, and the results aren't pretty. But when he takes his time and sets up the offense, he's at his best -- and that was the case Sunday.

Harris attempted just two 3s -- and missed them both -- but got to the hole for a handful of big-time layups and runners, including the biggest one of the game which extended the Wolverines' tenuous lead to five with just over a minute remaining.

The biggest shot of the game was Zach Novak's 3-pointer that broke a 58-58 tie, but before that Harris had scored four of six Michigan points with a mid-range jumper -- more his cup of tea -- and a pair of hard-earned free throws.

So Beilein and company can only hope that the team's star junior -- and candidate for Big Ten player of the year -- got the message and is now off and running. Because the schedule turns brutal from here, with games at Wisconsin and Purdue followed by a home date with Michigan State, and the Wolverines can't afford many more losses if they want to sneak back into the Big Dance.

Many players will need to contribute along the way for such a thing to happen, but their efforts won't matter if Manny isn't consistently being Manny -- the good kind.