Summer hoops notes: Durant, Team USA, Coach K, Rubio

Looking a lot like Smash Williams on Friday Night Lights

Some thoughts after watching Team USA’s exhibitions against Greece, Spain and France. Apparently, Cablevision doesn’t have ESPN Classic – thanks, Jimmy Dolan – so I’ll have to watch a replay of their first official game against Croatia later tonight. (Though I did watch Russia-Puerto Rico and France’s upset of Spain)

*****

I feel like Kevin Durant is in the spot that LeBron James was in a few years back, when we didn’t know how high his ceiling was. Remember that? We couldn’t miss a game because we felt he was bound to do something we’d never seen before.

That’s where we’re at with Durant.

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Visit to home office shows Coach K living a dream with Team USA

Master of his domain

I went to the Garden a week ago to watch Team USA play France. And as I watched Mike Krzyzewski sit on the bench, studying his players and working the refs, it brought me back to an October night back in 2000, when I sat in the home office in Mike Krzyzewski’s basement.

Krzyewski is about as close to a living legend as there is in his profession. But he has dreams and aspirations, just like the rest of us. And it was a remarkable opportunity to get a rare window into what Coach K himself would define as success.

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Look closer: NBA, Nike stores demonstrate underpromotion of Durant

Hovering

The NBA in general does an excellent job of promoting their stars, but with Team USA and the World Basketball Festival in town, this weekend proved to me that they don’t fully comprehend just how valuable Kevin Durant has become.

As a longtime supporter of Team USA, I decided to spend Sunday checking out what a couple of notable New York City retailers had going on. In the spirit of my last trip to the NBA Store, here are some of my favorite images.

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Air of sadness forever casts shadow over Jordan’s greatness

Game of shadows I’ve always thought that there’s an inherent loneliness that comes with preternatural talent.

Reflecting on the great moments one can produce with sheer physical or mental genius can be like walking through a hall of mirrors, fated to see endless glimpses of moments in time that can never be recaptured except through still or moving images.

When I look at Michael Jordan, I see a man trapped by his own greatness. The man was like Icarus; he reached heights unlike those reached by anyone else, but the problem with tasting a nectar that sweet is that it’s difficult to put up the rest of your life by comparison.

I’ve long been fascinated by Jordan’s ascent from mere mortal to demigod. Over time, as his talents and accomplishments grew, he metamorphosed from a high school kid to an NCAA championship hero, to a hotshot rookie to an NBA scoring leader, to an MVP to a champion – and eventually to the greatest of all time. Not to mention… a worldwide icon.

But at what cost to the man’s soul?

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