On one hand, posting ludicrous dunk highlights from Los Angeles Clippers games — even those not involving Blake Griffin(notes) — has become almost too easy at this point. Like, "Yeah, the Clippers often play an exciting brand of basketball that results in remarkable displays of athleticism, grace, speed and power. We see it. We get it. Enough already."
While the supportive optimist points out that it's awesome to see a style this consistently invigorating from a team much more known for ugly, dysfunctional play, the clear-eyed realist counters by noting that all this breathless running and jumping has led the Clippers to a 19-28 record, a 3-15 mark on the road, middling offensive efficiency and bottom-third-of-the-league defense. And then those two knuckleheads get mad at one another, Al Pacino starts yelling about how this whole trial is out of order, and I have to lay down, because the scene in my head just got way too real.
On the other hand, when I get back up, I re-watch plays like this late third-quarter sequence from the Clips' 105-98 home win over the visiting Milwaukee Bucks from Tuesday night, and I'm still like, "Holy cow, DeAndre Jordan(notes). Y'all are brutalizin' Jon Brockman(notes), sketch-comedy-cops-on-Ronnie-Dobbs style." Brockman even tried to keep himself vertical by grabbing onto Jordan's jersey, but after DeAndre brought the ruckus, Brockman was left grasping at straws.
As you might expect, Brockman was displeased by getting so summarily sonned, which led him to artlessly run into Jordan on the next trip down the court, drawing a whistle for an offensive foul. Brockman momentarily feigned shock at the call, then smiled around his mouthpiece, just as Jordan grinned after his teammates helped him up. It's a great example of the theater of the NBA — as I wrote when Andre Iguodala(notes) banged on Brian Cardinal(notes) a few months back, the game needs grinders and backdrops just as much as it needs stunners and soarers, and Brockman played his part to a T. The post-poster push was just the cherry on top of a nice slice of NBA life. End scene.
And hey, Carlos Delfino(notes)? That jump cut you made to bail out of Jordan's path and leave Brockman alone in the wilderness was craven, smart and perhaps the truest depiction yet that the values of teamwork and selfishness justly sit side-by-side on Ron Swanson's Pyramid of Greatness.