The Sport Count

LeBron James: A very good basketball player.

We’ve learned something tonight: if you’re going to run a 2-3 zone against Team USA — and unless you’re nuts, you will — it really helps to have 7-footers blocking the paint. As great basketball thinker Daniel Plainview once said, ‘if you have a key, and you need to defend driving isolation plays from LeBron, Carmelo, Wade and Paul, then you need to block the paint with a 2-3 zone… block it up!‘ (Do FIBA rules not include ‘three in the key’? Or is Yao Ming given special dispensation due to being the size of three normal humans?).

Another thing: It helps to have the largest population in the world pumping you up constantly. It gives you confidence, and the inexplicable, if temporary, ability to exceed your usual range. ‘Yao Ming opens the scoring by hitting a three’? Seriously? Yes, a young Brent Barry could probably dunk from the international trey line, but that doesn’t mean your 7′6″ centre should be capable of raining bombs from outside. How do you defend that?

In fact — and yes, I know you know this — when Yao Ming has working limbs, how do you stop him? Is it possible? The footwork and the height combined with the surprisingly nice variety of shots… well, that’s tough to defend. Kwame Brown has nightmares about this, even when he’s awake.

Usually you’d blame Team USA for relying on their (often awkward) outside shots instead of driving the ball. Lord knows they’re constantly happy to rest on their jumpshot laurels, presumably figuring a 40% strike rate will be enough to wreck the opposition. But, as aforementioned, there was nowhere for the Americans to go tonight, at least in the opening 12 minutes. Turns out ‘The Great Wall Of China’ isn’t a nickname — it’s a gameplan. By filling the paint with such tall, surprisingly strong big men, China pulled the basketball equivalent of sending the world’s fattest man in to guard the ice hockey net.

We’re at the second quarter, and it’s still completely inexplicable and unexplainable why Jason Kidd is on the team, let alone burning up game time. The basketball IQ is still there, sure — besides, Chris Paul may score higher on that test anyway — but the speed isn’t. Nor the confidence. Nor the ability. Barring Kidd dropping an Oscar Robertson effort in the second half, he needs to ride the bench for the rest of his time in Beijing.

Hey, did you hear eight billion people watched the game? That’s the actual figure. Eight billion. I know, that’s a lot, but it was literally the biggest, most anticipated sporting event in written history, so it kind of makes sense. Eight billion televisions.

End of the half, and it’s clear Team USA’s Olympic and pre-Olympic campaign has followed much the same pattern in every game; the other team comes out fearless, strong, and fast. They run a full court press in the opening minute, then tight halfcourt traps and, of course, some zone. The defense works.

The Americans, looking totally disjointed, rely too heavily on their jumpshots, and we hear the commentator say ‘even though each member dedicated three years to the team — and you have to commend Team USA for that — you have to remember these international teams often grow up together, living together, eating together, often genetically related, often dispensed from the very same womb… so they tend to have good chemistry.’

The other team looks to the scoreboard early in the second quarter, and it’s a tie. ‘A tie against the Americans?’ They feel confident. Then they look to the US bench, and they see Carlos Boozer there, alongside Deron Williams, and Michael Redd. And the other team starts getting tired from all the full court press they’ve been playing, and they share the vague, terrible feeling that ‘the worst player on the American team is better than the best player on our team. Jesus.’

They look up minutes later, and they’re down by 20. Kobe Bryant has hit two three-pointers in a row, and LeBron James is playing fullcourt defense so tenacious that you’re seriously, consistently worried about the 8-second halfcourt rule.

The Australian coverage cuts to a special on Stephanie Rice. Sport Count editor Alex Vitlin claims she’s ‘the world’s hottest gold medalist ever.’ I agree with him, and Google Image Search does too.

Steph Rice, Right: If President, would be Baberaham Lincoln.

The coverage cuts to a boxing match. Unfortunately, an Australian  is participating, meaning Seven — the dumb bastards showing the Olympics down under — will probably cross back to the Team USA game somewhere around the middle of the fourth quarter.

Thank goodness, the Australian is getting beaten like a dog. Seven loves Australian content, but if it wounds our collective dignity too severely, they’ll mercifully cut away.

And, yes, we’re back — I love, Seven! — and Carmelo Anthony looks fired up, and ready to push the accelerator down a little. We must be about due for ‘Carmelo Anthony is the classic European power forward’ — huh, when did Team USA start aspiring to play like the Europeans?

Two predictable things happen: First, Yao Ming injures his ankle (Rocket fans, your championship odds just went long. Like, 13-1 to 50-1). Second, Wade throws down yet another ridiculous dunk, and thousands, maybe millions, think ’seriously, should I draft him the first round or not? Should I? What do I do?!’

Apparently Yao isn’t too injured, and he’s proving it by hitting the court again, so betting freaks will have to wait until Artest is suspended for those odds to lengthen. In score news, Team USA is up by 50 or something, and China has unfortunately forgotten the magic of the 2-3 zone, and how to play transition defense. And how to play basketball.

Twice in thirty seconds, Dwight Howard is blocked (the first time by Yao Ming, right before he left the floor to an extremely large ovation). I wonder ‘if I was jumping from a 2-foot high platform, with a run-up, could I dunk on Dwight Howard, or would he block me easily?’ Dwight Howard has biceps as big as my head, but I figure I could stuff it over him. But then The Manchild stuffs home the ball, and the ring aches under the strain, and I think ‘maybe I’m overconfident on this.’

Tayshaun Prince was congratulated by Andrew Gaze earlier for ‘high-fiving everyone despite not playing a single minute.’ I guess if you’re not going to provide the interior defensive presence Tyson Chandler should’ve been offering the team, it’s nice to help morale out by high-fiving.

Gaze spends a good minute heaping praise on Yao for ‘leading the charge’, as Yao walks up and down the sidelines pumping his fist and yelling, spurring his teammates on despite the unfortunate scoreline, and the lonely two minutes left on the clock. I agree with Gaze on that; if Yao Ming cheered on the Sacramento Kings like that, they’d win a championship this year. Or at least 20 games.

Final score: 101-70. I guess that’s why Centrebet had Team USA at 1.002-1 to win. The punters who dropped a million on the Redeem Team will really enjoy that $2000.

Posted By: Anton