Endangered Hoops

Funny, that he couldn’t see it coming. In the back seat of a black car during a day forever pasted in his mind, but still the brand of the car he came home in is a forever blur. Cars never mattered to him. He could care less, ‘less the thing couldn’t get him to the sanctuary, freeze up in December or flame out in June.

“You sure you don’t need to stop?” To the backseat, again someone asks. For some reason, the front seat is open, the fourth-grader content to stare straight into the back of a cushion.

“It’s fine if you have to stop…” It would’ve been fine to stop the ride home…if the fourth-grader could’ve seen it coming. No signs. Nothing. The rest of the day had been a revelation, one of those things someone never forgets.

Finally, it all came spilling out, all over the backseat of that black car, on the floor, on the back of the driver’s seat, along the ridge in-between the right and left side of the cushions, an upset stomach upset by what the boy witnessed earlier in the day, something he would never forget. A life-changer…

———————-

Initials reaction were mixed, combining both shock and hilarity. The story is not really a precautionary tale, but in a way, it is. It’s not really a comedic one either, but the picture and circumstances surrounding the event are almost always met with a laugh once knowledge is feigned.

Sport Grind Entertainment

In his first game in China with his new team, the Beijing Ducks, Steve Francis was thrown into the game for the final few minutes…with ice packs still sitting on his ankles. That’s not an exaggeration; it actually happened. He was given no warning about his participation that night, other than what his head coach Min Lulei said before the game, which was essentially, no, Francis will not play tonight. Instead, with the fans screams swimming down his spine to put in the once Houston Rocket megastar, Min folded and did so. For 17 seconds.

This is not a post meant to condone Steve Francis’ theatrics as a NBA player. He was a three-time All-Star and one of the leaders of the post-generation Jordan era, the most explosive and exciting point guard anyone had ever seen. But, Francis was also known as a ball-stopper, his playground style meshing with wins like LeBron meshes with humble.

An old, worn-out gymnasium once housed Francis’ theatrics. Deep in the heart of Western Maryland, barely a blip on the compass, let alone the basketball map, Francis destroyed people in awkward obscurity. Even during the summer of his pilgrimage to Maryland and Gary Williams, he was a nobody, his incredible hoop feats foreign to even those living within the communities surrounding Allegany Community College.

On the morning before he would head off to College Park and later the NBA and worldwide fame, in a small camp being run by his former community college coaches with perhaps 25 kids, Steve Francis showed up. He was only there for maybe 20 minutes, but it didn’t matter. Francis gave the camp one of the most ridiculous dunk exhibitions I’ve ever seen: windmills without even warming up, jumping from the foul-line, jumping from so far out of bounds that it really looked like he was gliding.

From there, he went on to average 17 points, 4.5 assists and almost three steals a game in his one season with Maryland, a year that also netted the Terrapins a trip to the Sweet 16 and Francis an All-ACC First Team selection. Life was good.

It got even better that summer when he was taken number two overall and then traded to Houston. His coach there, Rudy Tomjanovich, was in the process of turning the team upside down, from one that had failed to win a championship with Hakeem Olajuwan, Charles Barkley and Clyde Drexler to one of excitement and youth.

Francis was the man. He could do no wrong, take whatever shot he wanted and generally made SportsCenter every single night. That was his time.

But more recently, the Chinese Basketball Association issued Francis a “serious warning” because of a hand gesture he made during a recent game. The CBA ordered the Ducks to “educate and criticize” Francis for his “uncivilized behavior.” Apparently, Francis was waving the middle finger around as he sulked and took up roots at the end of the bench during the Ducks game against the Guangdong Tigers last Sunday.

And yesterday after just two weeks with the team, Francis was released.

He was a larger-than-life figure, someone so spectacular that those campers in attendance probably thought he could jump higher than Jordan, sing better than Jackson or lead better than Clinton.

It’s always interesting to dive into the psyche of NBA players, especially the veteran ones. It’s a study in what makes a person tick, the difference between those that try and succeed and those that don’t. The difference between fame and obscurity.

Why has Tracy McGrady gone from perhaps the best player in the game to a bit player on a horrible team in just a few short years? Why did Allen Iverson fall off the basketball map so quickly, and so hard, that he ended up in Turkey, playing for a team that doesn’t really know how to use him and in a culture that doesn’t know what to make of him?And most importantly, what really happened to Steve Francis? Injuries? Ego? The hands of time? Cuttino Mobley?

The real meaning behind IcePackGate isn’t the chuckling or even the update into Francis’ professional career, at least what’s left of it.

It’s a reminder to take advantage of the opportunities given to you. Francis didn’t always do that, didn’t always truly believe in the power behind the exterior of his talent. Now, he’s become what his talent should’ve never allowed: a loser. Obscurity.

——————-

That fourth-grader was me and that throw-up was mine. Thirty minutes after watching Steve Francis dunk and jump and do obscene things with a basketball and my life was different. His impact was so strong, I couldn’t hold it in, had to let it all come shoveling out of me.

Impact can be ironic. Why did it all happen like this? The point? How does someone rise so quickly only to fall off even quicker? The irony in that day’s impact still hits me every day. It doesn’t matter that he’s become a near caricature of himself. All that matters, at least to me, is that he happened.

Follow Sean on Twitter at @SEANesweeney

It’s probably impossible to accurately create a new way to define Kobe Bryant. He’s been the subject of countless sit-downs, millions of published articles and too many great covers to even remember them all. But at his essence, he’s a murderously effective basketball player and no one captured that more memorably than Sports Illustrated’s Chris Ballard did during the Lakers run to the Finals in 2008.

With the Lakers reeling (sort of) as they come into their hyped Christmas day matchup with the Miami Heat, the spotlight will once again – as it always is – be on Kobe Bryant and his between-the-lines battle with LeBron James and Dwyane Wade. Going strictly off this beautifully-written piece, I think he enjoys that.

——————–

A great moment in humility it was not.

After scoring 25 of his 27 points in the second half of Game 1 of the Western Conference finals last week against the San Antonio Spurs, Los Angeles Lakers star Kobe Bryant said of his strong finishing kick, “I can get off” — that is, score at will — “at any time. In the second half I did that.”

Granted, Bryant was just being honest, but tact would dictate that he let others say such things about him. As you may have noticed, though, Bryant isn’t big on tact. Time and again over the last decade he has announced the particulars of his awesomeness. As teammate Luke Walton dryly puts it, “Kobe does not lack for confidence.”

Read the full story here…

*featured at Dime

Imagine breaking 110 bones. Imagine tripping and falling in a basketball game and ending up in the hospital with a broken arm, two broken legs, a broken nose and three demolished fingers. For Dustin Ferreira, this is no dream. It actually happened. And now he, along with his two teammates Tommy Hambicki and Kelly Case, is a part of one of the best three-on-three hoop teams in the country.

Dime

“I don’t think in any way that we are just regular players,” says Ferreira. “It’s hard to say what we have, but when you see us, you can say ‘there is something about those guys.’”

Self-described as the “Bad Boys of Wheelchair Basketball,” the three are lifelong players who all have interesting stories.

Hambicki was a fantastic high school basketball player and was a part of a state championship team. He was on his way to college on an athletic scholarship, but before he could make it there, he snapped the 11th vertebrae in his spine during a car accident in Arizona. Strangely similar, Case was also in a car accident seven years ago.

Ferreira was born with osteogensis imperfecta, a brittle bone disease that leaves him especially vulnerable to injuries.

“Any normal person, their growth is good and you would never be able to tell,” says Ferreira. “With me, I am 4-4. Like I said, I have broken a shitload of bones, but as I get older it gets better because you get stronger. To be honest, you would never notice.”

Perhaps. But either way, Ferreira has had to overcome a lot, including the incident mentioned above where he fell forward out of his wheelchair during a game and broke a countless number of bones. Yet it doesn’t seem to faze him; Ferreira takes out his anger on opposing teams.

“Teams hate us,” says Ferreira. “They hate us. It’s because we always have our aggression level and we always play the way we play. We always have that edge, whether it is an elbow thrown or maybe you just took out one of my guys and this is a little bit of retaliation.”

The three play year-round for a wheelchair club sponsored by the Phoenix Suns, complete with league games and their own mini-March Madness. While there is no compensation for playing, the basketball is a welcome escape from everyone’s nine-to-five.

Still, last year was filled with disappointments for this team. They made the playoffs, but were unable to participate because of a lack of funding.

“It was a huge stab in the heart, playing all those games and tournaments and then finding out we couldn’t go,” laments Ferreira. “I’ve been playing ball for a lot of years and this one really hurts. You work so hard and then to have that one pulled away from us, it is absolutely devastating.”

Playoffs or not, Ferreira has one goal when he hits the court: to change the way people see wheelchair players.

“At the end of the day, you can change a lot of people’s lives and you’ve opened them up to something they have never seen,” says Ferreira. “If they don’t give a shit, then they will walk on and go on with their life. But for the most part, it changes a lot of people’s personas.”

Follow Sean on Twitter at @SEANesweeney

No, there is no rivalry between the Boston Celtics and New York Knicks. That doesn’t mean there can’t be. But, right now, at this very moment, it’s stupid. Media hype. So upon downplaying tonight’s ESPN (7 p.m.) matchup between the Knicks and Celtics, I will now bring it back up to speed. New York is playing as well as they have since the days of Ewing and Starks and the main culprit for that is Amar’e Stoudemire, whom you may not have heard (kiddin’) is playing like the MVP of the entire League.

In the second installment of The Archives, Sports Illustrated’s Kelli Anderson takes us on a trip back to when Stoudemire was just a rookie…before the fame…before the injuries…before everything…

———————

Of all the reactions you’d expect from a 20-year-old NBA rookie whose coach just told him, “You got Shaq,” a canary-swallowing grin is not one of them. But unmistakable joy, even mirth, played over the face of Phoenix Suns power forward Amare Stoudemire as he planted a forearm in Shaquille O’Neal‘s back late in a recent victory over the Los Angeles Lakers. Earlier in the season the 6’10″, 245-pound Stoudemire had delivered a vicious dunk over the L.A. Clippers’ 7-foot Michael Olowokandi, dominated All-Star Kevin Garnett in a 38-point, 14-rebound performance against the Minnesota Timberwolves and leveled Paul Pierce as he drove to the hoop, leaving the Boston Celtics’ swingman with two broken front teeth. But Stoudemire didn’t know if he’d be so fearless when he finally confronted his hoops idol. “If I was going to be intimidated by anyone in this league, it would have been Shaq,” says Stoudemire. “But I wasn’t. I enjoyed every minute.”

Read the full story here…

Hit the rewind button. Lets take it back…

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It’s 2006, December 17th to be exact. Gilbert Arenas is popping, jolted with energy, performing in front of thousands of fans and 70 family members, an all-star in the prime of his career. He’s pulling up from deep. Forget the parking lot, Arenas is down the street, every shot seeming, or at least expected, to whip through the net. Bottoms. That first step is ravaging any Laker in front of him, his long, powerful strides getting him into the lane off of just one bounce. Finishing over, around, on the other side, underneath. This night is probably the defining moment of his career, one that was never envisioned to reach this level, never supposed to be anything worthwhile.

Staples Center is his Arizona, his Oakland, his Washington, his L.A. Arenas came to entertain, do what he does best. 60 points later and it was impossible to ignore.

Kobe Bryant was ballin’ too. But even the Black Mamba got the face palm. After Gil was finished with him, Bryant’s ego was hurt: “Some of the shots he took tonight, you miss those, they’re just terrible shots, just awful. You make them and they’re unbelievable shots.” No one does that to him. But Arenas did.

He was an eccentric soul and an even more articulate, unique satisfying basketball player. He was Agent Zero, sent here from some obscure land, where living out of an automobile builds character and confidence and a wild sense of humor, all collaging together to create a half-comedian, half-entertainer. Arenas was more than a basketball player. He was an entertainer, in a world of athletics that could always use a little more laughter, honesty and love. We say we love and respect the great ones, the guys who are completely focused on the game. We forgive them for their politically correctness and their boring, machine-like consistency. But we love the Arenas’s of the world too.

Bring it back to present time. Gilbert Arenas is struggling. With his game, his life, his standing as a former superstar turned villain turned irrelevant. Yesterday, the Wizards’ guard opened up to Marc Spears of Yahoo! Sports to talk about his career in Washington, and that dreaded locker-room incident last season:

“Everyone is going to have their judgments about everything,” Arenas told Yahoo! Sports. “I never told the real story. Javaris never told the real story. But everybody had a story out there, and that’s the problem. You’re judging me off a story that somebody else made up. And that was the part that hurt. That’s not fair.

“I look at people different now. I try not to attach myself to people anymore as much because if people heard the real story … ”

After a 20-point outing in a loss to the Knicks on Friday night, Arenas bumped his averages this season to 17.5 points and 5.2 assists. Not bad. Not great either, not Arenas-worthy. But how much of that drop in production is a product of John Wall? Or Gil’s knee injuries? And lastly, his downtrodden attitude?

Yes, this new team in Washington now belongs to Wall. It’s actually somewhat ironic. Arenas was once the ringleader for a weird and wild group out in Oakland during his first few years in the League. Washington has a future cornerstone in Wall, a couple of obnoxiously talented big men in Andray Blatche and JaVale McGee and a couple of young players, like Nick Young, with issues not unlike those of Arenas. This team is just begging for the old Arenas. It’s not going to happen though.

In that tough loss to New York, Wall was working himself back from a left foot issue, noticeably struggling. Young was involved in his customary game-long nap and the rest of the team was doing what they always do. Arenas was the only viable option down the stretch.

SBNation

While he did hit a few shots – one was a nice pull-up jumper, the other a right wing drive that ended in a floating runner – his new problems that are keeping him from being his old self resurfaced. Arenas used to be a monster at getting to the rim and finishing by contorting his body, spinning the ball up and in at all kinds of different angles. Now, he struggles to find the explosiveness to score around bigger players. While his perimeter numbers have stayed consistent, he is shooting, and hitting, less than half as many shots as he used to at the rim.

Arenas was always a fan favorite, playing on those old Golden State teams where he teamed up with a young Jason Richardson to form some ridiculous highlights. Now, he’s a former warrior, one who doubts he will ever be that man again.

Arenas told Spears:

“When a young guy is coming in, the older guy never wants to move over,” Arenas said. “But I know my time here is over [as the face of the franchise]. I messed up my legacy here.”

Now? Lets just hope that Arenas can find the same happiness and joy in his own life that he used to give to us.

We all know that Shaquille O’Neal can give some of the absolute best interviews in the League, and possibly all of sports. At any point in time, he can go off on a ridiculous tangent that’ll turn into one of the NBA’s biggest stories. He has an entire library of “best quotes.” And last night, NBA.com’s John Schuhmann posted up a few excerpts from a chat with the Big Shamrock on the Hang Time Blog.

In keeping in line with his “I-don’t-really-worry-about-anyone-but-myself” moxie, Shaq told Schuhmann that he doesn’t care about NBA League Pass and doesn’t bother watching other teams. But he did admit, he does allow his son to watch…that is, only a few specific players:

“When I’m watching basketball with my son, I only let him watch a couple of players,” he said. “Kobe, LeBron and Blake Griffin. That’s it.

“Kobe is the Black Mamba, of course. Blake Griffin is a big, 6-10 light-skinned cat like my son is going to be. And LeBron is just, you know, strong, physical and can do it all.”

Shaq clearly doesn’t want his son to be influenced by lesser talents. He wants little Shaq’s sights set high.

“As a kid, just dreaming, you always want him to watch the best, and then go outside, practice, and try to be those guys. That’s what I did when I was young. I used to watch Kareem and Wilt and Russell and all those guys, and then go outside.”

Those names are elite company for a rookie like Griffin. The way he relentlessly attacks the rim, Griffin has clearly captured the imagination of fans, but he’s also got 18-year veterans talking.

“He just now has to figure out a way to lift his team,” Shaq said. “Because right now he’s putting up big numbers, but you guys are going to start turning the tables real soon to why he’s putting up numbers and his team ain’t winning.

“Once [the Clippers] learn to play together, it will be more of a story. But he’s fabulous. You guys know I don’t give it up to anybody, but I’m giving it up to that young fella.”

“If you hate a person, you hate something in him that is part of yourself. What isn’t part of ourselves doesn’t disturb us.” – Hermann Hesse

We live in an era where having more than someone else automatically makes you a better person. But is that really true? We’re all equal parts. One way or another every person in the world is related in some way, so why all of the hatred? Why all of the negativity?

If you’re searching for the answer, Joakim Noah might be the person to talk to.

MouthPieceSports

The son of both a peripatetic, famous father and an artistic mother, Noah was born in New York City before being raised in a bourgeois neighborhood in France, eventually moving back to Manhattan for his formative years. The Big Apple would always be home; it seemed like the perfect place for Noah to blend his outspoken personality in with a city full of unique people. Or so he thought. He was labeled a troublemaker in high school – he was kicked out of United Nations International School when he was 15 – and people would always stare or speak negatively about him and his family. But he never paid attention.

Because all Noah does is play basketball.

On the court, Noah is relentless and passionate. Many find him annoying, but he’s just doing his job, taking the other player out of his game. During his time in Gainesville, where he won back-to-back national titles with the Gators, Jo was arguably the most hated player in college basketball. They hated that he was a lanky seven-footer, that his hair flopped up and down every time he ran up the court. They hated that he would clap his hands after a block, that he pounded his chest knowing no one could touch him. They hated that he was a winner.

Fans knew he was good, but they chose not to believe it. They were too focused on his appearance rather than his overall talent. So while he continued to improve by outworking everyone, the boos got louder.

But that’s life. We will always hate on success. Noah didn’t ask for this, but who really does? No one truly wants to be hated by the world. Even Jo doesn’t know why.

“Some people like me. Some people really hate me,” Noah once told ESPNChicago.com’s Jon Greenberg. “It’s been like that since I was a little kid. I don’t really know what it is, if it’s the hair or just the way I am. I just learned to live with it.”

After becoming a lottery pick in 2007, Noah struggled in his first two seasons with the Chicago Bulls. He didn’t listen and clashed with teammates and coaches while playing a part in the firing of head coach Scott Skiles. Jo wasn’t used to losing and was a cocky rookie who played with selfish, uncoachable teammates. He was no longer the “big man on campus.” But something clicked last season. Jo sought advice from his former college coach Billy Donovan, and he found a friend in Derrick Rose who allowed him to mature. Just like that, he went from averaging a measly 6.7 points to last season’s double-double: 10.7 points and 11.0 rebounds. He also had his first taste of the playoffs.

His performance had finally caught up with his intensity.

The entire city of Chicago had finally fallen in love with what Noah was drafted for: hard work. He was booed in his own arena as a rookie, and during this summer’s free agency craze, there were talks of him being traded for Carmelo Anthony, causing quite a few Chicagoans to again evaluate how truly valuable Jo is to the team. In October, he signed a five-year, $60-million extension that will keep him in Chicago until the 2015-16 season.

So far this season he’s averaging career highs in minutes (38.4), points (15.4) and rebounds (12.2). He’s also improved his unorthodox jump shot, which he calls “unusual” and “artistic.” He’s connecting on 44.7 percent of his shots from 10 feet, 66.7 percent from 10-15 feet and 41.0 percent from 16-23 feet, all major improvements.

At 25 years old, many would say that Noah has reached his peak. Still, he was raw coming out of college, and should have room for improvement. And while his unabated emotion is no longer considered “showboating” to those around the League, it has become the fuel that will keep the fire burning in Chicago. Fans shouldn’t hate him even though he enjoys taking that role. At the end of the day, he’s the guy who just dropped a double-double on the opposing team and came out with the win.

The question that we should ask ourselves is: are we hating Noah strictly because of his looks, or because we aren’t comfortable within our own skin just yet? Self-empowerment comes through positive thought and many of us carry a notion that other people are more emotionally solid than we are. But is that really true? We all wear disguises and fool ourselves into believing that the disguise, rather than the confidence it brings, is what attracts others to us. So why continue to hate on someone who isn’t afraid of being what he’s supposed to be?

Noah has one of the biggest hearts in the NBA. Why? Because he doesn’t listen to the things that would normally wear us down. Haters will continue to hate. It’s their job, trying to keep him from succeeding.

It’s too late now.

Andrew Macaluso is a contributing writer for Endangered Hoops. You can find more of his work at DimeMag.com, SLAMonline.com and as well as his blog, News From the Hardwood. You can follow Andrew on Twitter at @_andymac

12/06

…last night’s Top 10 Plays…

*find this post featured at Dime*

“I can’t imagine him in year five or six. He probably won’t peak until he is in year seven. He will only be 27 then. That’s crazy. Think about what he could be at his rate of growth right now. He’s going to be scary.” -Lamont Peterson

…

Bryan Duncan/Steve Webb

It was supposed to be his introduction to America. Not to those embedded in the game, for they already know what he’s capable of, but rather a larger audience. Much larger. 82 games in and we were all lining up to be witnesses, a new King was here. The Takeover was just beginning. But then injuries happened, fame happened and his team taking a reverse step happened.

Now Tyreke Evans is suddenly feeling something he isn’t used to: uncertainty.

Peterson knows Evans as well as anyone. He’s been with the 21-year old since the Kings’ star was just an eighth grader, at the time already the best middle school basketball player in the country, but still incredibly shy and had, as Peterson put it, “Nothing that stood out about him physically.”

We all know what Evans, with Peterson’s help, went on to accomplish: featured in a hoop documentary, MVP of the McDonald’s All-American game and later the only freshman finalist for the 2009 U.S. Basketball Writers of America National Player of the Year award while at Memphis, as well as last season’s Rookie of the Year award.

His ceiling is still considered unlimited, but Evans has definitely been sidetracked.

Sometimes, manipulating a good thing doesn’t always turn out the way we expected. With a greater supporting cast, everyone wanted Evans to give up the ball more this year, distribute and improve his floor game. The change in mentality for Evans was noticeable even during the preseason. Watching the 6-6 bulldozer play off the ball, only checking for his offense once he had attempted to open the game up for his teammates, didn’t seem right. Instead of ruthlessly attacking the paint like he did every minute of every game last year, Evans was doing what he could to set up Omri Casspi for open threes and Carl Landry for layups.

Maybe this should’ve been expected. Evans called it this summer, saying, “People can’t worry about getting better stats. We just have to worry about trying to win because if we all worry about stats, then we will never get far.

“I know I can score so I just want to get a lot of help this year so I can focus on the team and us getting better so we can win more games.”

Passive might work for someone else. But not on this team and not for Evans.

Besides his unreliability as a traditional point guard, Evans knew his jump shot needed work and lived in the gym this offseason so he could come back with a more diverse game. Or at least attempt to.

The numbers don’t lie. This season, Evans is attempting a ridiculous 2.4 less shots a game at the rim as his perimeter attempts have spiked without an improvement in accuracy. While his jumper does indeed look considerably smoother this year – when he sets his feet and squares up like he did on a deep third-quarter three against the Mavs on Saturday night, the result is consistent – his inconsistency on pull-ups and step-backs has one of the best finishers in the entire league shooting an ugly 40.1 percent from the field.

So in an attempt to prove what he is, Evans has forgotten what he was.

Now, not only is he struggling to regain the core of his attacking personality, Evans is also dealing with a myriad of injuries to his lower body: a bout with plantar fasciitis on the bottom of his left foot as well as his ankle, an injury that was the tipping point in ending Evans’ time with the U.S. team this summer. For someone built to destroy, injuries were considered the last thing that could reel him in. But they have taken a toll.

Traditionally, second-year players are expected to make enormous strides in their games, especially when that person is someone like Tyreke Evans, who was, and is, just a jumpshot away from becoming an all-world player. But this isn’t always a certainty. And sometimes the improvements are hardly noticeable: the knowledge of when to step on the pedal or when to slow down, learning how to hit a shooter without getting caught, recognizing where each teammate is most comfortable from.

Science and math would tell us Evans is struggling with the transition now that nobody defends him with point guards anymore or allows him to go one-on-one. And they would be right. But, sometimes growing pains are the best type.

StilletoSports

Evans has defied expectations at every level. In high school, he went from being hailed as the best sophomore ever to not even the best in his class. In college, he was considered a ball-hogging shooting guard who couldn’t shoot. And even at the NBA level, there were many who criminally misjudged his talent and how it could be used.

Dealing with doubt and adapting is nothing new.

Sacramento came into this season with heightened expectations. In the midst of their terrible finish last season, their 14-17 record through December was hidden beneath the perils of that ending. They had a decent nucleus revolving around Evans and a core of solid role players. Then they added DeMarcus Cousins this offseason. Everything was rising; all eyes bent on a playoff push.

But after Saturday night’s terrible loss at home to Dallas, a game that the Kings led 99-90 with only five and a half minutes remaining, Sacramento is sitting at an ugly 4-14, losers of seven straight and just 1.5 games away from the Clippers and the worst record in the League. It wasn’t Evans’ fault. He scored 25 and had eight assists. It was his best performance since Sacramento’s last win over two weeks ago.

“Once we learn to play together, we’ll be okay, we’ll start winning.”

Exactly what Kings coach Paul Westphal means by that statement is not entirely clear, and perhaps not completely true. What is clear is that the Kings will start winning once Tyreke Evans becomes Tyreke Evans again.

-Follow Sean on Twitter at @SEANesweeney

12/05

…last night’s Top 10 Plays…