Dean Pees.

The Washington Post's Mark Maske says that the Pats won't miss Eric Mangini:

Mangini is regarded as a Belichick clone and a rising star in the coaching ranks. But he was a rookie defensive coordinator last season and provided only an ordinary performance; some people around the league said his game plans, especially early in the season, seemed designed mostly to protect the secondary that he'd overseen previously. He wasn't ready to be a head coach and got the job mostly because he's close to the Jets' new general manager, Mike Tannenbaum. Mangini probably would have developed, in time, into a superb defensive coordinator and ready-for-prime-time head-coaching candidate. But it's likely that Pees will do at least as good a job this coming season as Mangini did last season.

And on the subject of NBA drafts

Measuring basketball greatness.

In this week's New Yorker, Malcolm Gladwell writes about The Wages of Wins, a new book by economists David J. Berri, Martin B. Schmidt, and Stacey L. Brook -- edited by a good friend of mine -- "who have created an algorithm that, they argue, comes closer than any previous statistical measure to capturing the true value of a basketball player." Read Gladwell's review, and then rush out to buy it today. (N.B. -- It would make a great wedding present for that special someone.) Then read the authors' blog.

First of many worthless predictions

The NBA lottery results are in, and almost everything went in order except at the very top. The final rankings are:

1- Toronto
2- Chicago (from New York)
3- Charlotte
4- Portland
5- Atlanta
6- Minnesota
7- Boston
8- Houston
9- Golden State
10- Seattle
11- Orlando
12- NO/LA
13- Philadelphia
14- Utah

So let me be one of the first to roll out a mostly-worthless shot at predicting how the draft will go. Since the top 6 are all about equal prospects, the top of the draft is likely to go consistently by team need. Of the top big men, I see Aldridge as having the biggest chance of slipping due to his knee and back issues.

Toronto - Colangelo will never have more patience and goodwill will ownership and fans than these first few months. Even with Bosh and V at the PF he takes the supposedly best all-around big man - Bargnani
Chicago - the Bulls need frontcourt depth desperately and pick high in a draft top-heavy with PFs - Thomas
Charlotte - Bobcats have solid players at the point and post, and take the wing with the most 'upside' in the draft - Gay
Portland - an incompetently run franchise that's sinking fast by off-court management disasters takes immediate offense and a much-needed marketing boost - Morrison
Atlanta - A team that's already stocked with guards takes the best remaining big man - Aldridge
Minnesota - Here's the first reach. The Twolves already have Ricky Davis and last year's #1 McCants at SG, but only Blount and KG in the front court. Passing on the last of the clear top prospects, McHale takes a post player projected for lower in the lottery - O'Bryant
Boston - Danny drafts the best player available and has shown repeatedly he doesn't care about their position. Say hello to Boston - Brandon Roy

Meet your '06 Sox, same as your '05 Sox.

Gordon Edes notes:

For all the talk of how much offense the Sox sacrificed to put a greater emphasis on pitching and defense, the offense has been similar to last season's team. The Sox are hitting .274, the same average they had through May 18 last season. They're averaging 5.4 runs, slightly below last season's average (5.6), but have hit home runs at roughly the same pace (41 in 38 games this season, 45 in 40 games last season).

Champions of the world.

Struggling to keep track of all the non-U.S. players left in the NBA playoffs? Not to fear -- Foreign Policy has a guide.

(This post is mostly an excuse for SweetDue's first link to Foreign Policy.)

The smaller, faster NBA.

Bill Simmons has a provocative column -- sans Isaiah-bashing, alas -- up today about changes in the NBA. I recommend the whole thing, but will excerpt some key portions to give a flavor and perhaps spur some further discussion:

After two depressing playoff seasons (2003 and 2004) sent casual fans scurrying away, the league made a conscious decision to change the overall mentality of the game itself. . . . Here's how they did it:

1. They sped up the game by giving teams only eight seconds to get the ball over midcourt and resetting the shot clock to 14 seconds in certain situations (after a foul, a kicked ball, an illegal defense, and so on).

2. They started whistling players for the shoving/grabbing/clutching/mugging crap that had been plaguing the league since the Riley/Daly days (I still think Riley should serve some prison time though).

3. They cracked down on flagrant fouls -- almost too much, actually -- allowing players to attack the rim without worrying about being splattered against the basket support.

4. They relaxed the illegal defense rules, allowing smaller teams to use soft zones and double-team scoring threats more easily (also allowing teams to play more scorers at the same time, since they couldn't be as much of a liability defensively).

5. Referees were ordered to allow moving picks as long as the player setting the pick didn't stick a knee out to trip the defender.

The last one was an unannounced, under-the-table rule change that Team Stern will deny in public to the death, much like Marcellus and Butch always will deny what happened in Maynard's basement with Zed and the Gimp. But it happened. I have more than 200 games on DVD, including just about every relevant game from 1984 to 2004, and players were never allowed to set moving picks before last season. They had to approach the dribbler, come to a full stop, and remain still as the dribbler made his move. Watch an old Jazz game some time -- remember how Stockton and Malone were considered the masters of the pick-and-roll? Well, the Mailman held those picks every time. He never moved. If he did, they whistled him.

With a guy like Boris Diaw setting moving screens for him, Nash suddenly became a lethal player -- and two-time MVP.
Now? You don't have to stop -- you can run over, pretend you're setting a high screen and basically careen into the defender. You can pretend to stop and continue moving your feet to sideswipe the defender as he's stepping around you (a Tyson Chandler specialty). You can even set a screen, make a 180-degree turn, chase the defender, then clip him with a moving pick a second time (a Yao Ming classic). All of these moves are legal in a wink-wink way. Boris Diaw raised it to another level -- instead of setting the screen on Nash's defender, sometimes he runs next to Nash, then quickly cuts toward the basket and "accidentally" picks off Nash's defender at full speed, almost like a wide receiver cutting across the field and picking off someone else's cornerback.

I know this all sounds mildly confusing, but the high screen has become the single most important play in basketball. Four teams execute it correctly (by bending the fake rules that aren't actually in place): Phoenix, Dallas, San Antonio and Detroit. Gee, what do those four teams have in common? And while we're here, if you ever wondered how Steve Nash played for eight years and never even made second-team All-NBA, then became a two-time MVP in the blink of an eye, it wasn't just because of his hair and his skin color, or because he found a coach that understood how to build a team around him. Nash took advantage of the aforementioned rules that made penetrating guards just as valuable as reliable low-post scorers (as we're seeing in this year's playoffs with Nash, Wade, Harris & Terry, Parker, Hinrich, Billups, even an old-timer like Sam Cassell).

Thanks to those rules, SmallBall has taken over the Western Conference playoffs this spring. Avery Johnson realized after one game that Dallas could only beat the Spurs by playing two point guards (Harris and Jason Terry) and exploiting San Antonio's shoddy perimeter defense; eventually, Gregg Popovich had no choice but to go small himself (even Big Shot Brob is riding the pine). The Suns-Clips series turned into a splendid SmallBall contest in Games 4 and 5, with the notable exception of the Chris Kaman parts (it's simply the wrong series for him, something Mike Dunleavy will probably realize around Game 12). Coincidentally -- or maybe, not coincidentally -- these have been two of the most entertaining and electric playoff series of the decade.

Which raises the million-dollar questions ...

Is this where we're headed? Are teams better off building for SmallBall over a conventional style? If you can only play five players, and you don't have an above-average center on your roster -- which most teams lack, by the way -- why not just play your best five guys regardless of position?

For instance, last summer's most important signing turned out to be Raja Bell, a much ridiculed move at the time. Remember? Twenty-five million for Raja Bell? What was Phoenix thinking? Actually, they were thinking that he's a great defender who makes 40 percent of his threes. Perfect for them. So they started pursuing him on midnight, July 1, then overpaid to make sure they got him. Ten months later, he looked like an absolute bargain even before he saved their season Tuesday night. Meanwhile, the Zydrunas Ilgauskas contract (four years, $55 million) would have been fine in 1998, but it's a roster killer in 2006. Much like in real life, you can't survive with slow big guys anymore.

Just look at this year's draft. As recently as three years ago, LaMarcus Aldridge would have been the first pick, because, after all, you always take a good big man first, right? Not this year. LSU's Ty Thomas (a Marion-like forward) will be the first pick, and I have a sneaking suspicion that Aldridge and Adam Morrison (another player who would have been more effective five years ago) will drop out of the top three, whereas Brandon Roy (Washington's outstanding shooting guard) and UConn's Marcus Williams (yes, the Laptop Guy, as well as the only elite point guard in the draft) will end up going higher than people think (and doing better than people think). In the old days, you needed a franchise player to realistically contend for a title. Now? You need two penetrators (including an alpha dog), three or four shooters and two guys who can rebound and protect the rim. That's it. Just ask Phoenix.

The new breed of NBA player: quick point guards like Chris Paul will become even more valuable in the new-and-improved NBA.
It's a different world. Suddenly, Chris Paul and Devin Harris have more value than Chris Bosh and Andrew Bogut. Suddenly, a max contract for Ben Wallace doesn't make quite as much sense. Suddenly, Kirk Hinrich's ceiling has been raised from "multiple All-Star" to "potential three-time MVP." Suddenly, expensive, shoot-first point guards like Baron Davis and Stephon Marbury are untradeable unless you want someone else's junk back. Suddenly, you would be committed to an institution if you drafted Rafael Araujo over Andre Iguodala, and you would throw a three-day long party if Jameer Nelson fell to you at No. 20. Suddenly, it doesn't seem smart to trade Ben Gordon, Tyson Chandler and two lottery picks to Minnesota for Kevin Garnett with about 98,000 miles on his odometer. Suddenly, a team like the 2006 Dallas Mavericks can win an NBA title.

Read the whole thing.

A Lakers-Clippers playoff series?

Bill Simmons has a great column today about the NBA playoffs that focuses largely on the two LA teams. He touches on a lot of good stuff, which made easier by how exciting the first round of the playoffs has been. He also specifically gets into the Kobe transformation that R.M. were talking about a few days ago.

Here's what I wrote then

The biggest surprise of these playoffs has been the Lakers dominance of the Suns. Really, does it make Kobe seem worse to suddenly see him play incredibly unselfish team ball? Which is worse: for him to be incapable of this or to have been capable and deliberately not playing this way? Can Lakers fans love this series and not want to stone Kobe to death for single-handedly giving Detroit the '04 championship?

Here's what Simmons writes now

Subplot No. 2: Bizarro Kobe
Well, I broke new ground here on ESPN.com: Back in January, I wrote that he was playing too selfishly. Now? I think he's playing too unselfishly -- in fact, he passed up so many scoring chances to set up teammates in Game 4, it nearly cost the Lakers a winnable game.

More importantly ... WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??

WHERE THE HELL DID THIS COME FROM?!!?!?!?!?!?

This was like watching Jimmy Fallon make it through an entire month of SNL episodes without laughing at one of his jokes. This was like watching Chris Berman make it through an entire NFL draft without tipping a team's pick as Paul Tagliabue approached the podium. This was like watching me write an entire month of columns without mentioning my friends or my father. It was simply incomprehensible. You could even call him Bizarro Kobe.

Do we praise him (for grasping the team concept, playing the most cerebral basketball of his career and finally understanding that his teammates will always play harder/better/more passionately when they have a greater stake in the proceedings) or skewer him (for not playing like this all along when it was clearly lurking inside of him). It's a tossup. If anything, his newfound unselfishness has hindered his offensive game; he played poorly for most of Game 4. But it's been mind-boggling to watch Bizarro Kobe pass up bad jumpers and openly try to get his teammates involved. It's simply implausible, like watching the Colts come out for a playoff game running the wishbone with Manning, and even stranger, Manning running amok and breaking tackles 20 yards down the field.

To me, here is the crux of the issue: Kobe has always had this in him. During the early years (and championships) of Phil Jacksons' first run in LA, Kobe was not nearly as good an individual player as he is now but consistently played team basketball at both ends of the court. Then whatever happened, happened, and he sold out his team in the '04 Finals.

On the listserve that pre-dated this blog we wrote extensively during that series about how Kobe might as well have been playing for the Pistons. At the time Shaq was still unstoppable in the paint; neither of the Wallaces could do anything with him alone. O'Neal ended up with a 64% FG% in that series, while still pulling down 20-rebound games like game 4.

At the same time Kobe seemed to have decided that if he couldn't win the series alone he didn't want the Lakers to win. The Pistons left Shaq in single coverage and triple-teamed Kobe whenever he had the ball. Every play screamed for Kobe to pass, which he absolutely wouldn't do. Play after play he dribbled straight into a crowd and then heaved up a ridiculous shot. It was so bad even the TV announcers couldn't keep from breaking the NBA's 'never criticize a celebrity player' rule. "The Lakers seem to have forgotten about the big fella" they'd say as Kobe threw up an out-of-control-airball-three while falling into the Pistons bench. Overall, Kobe shot 38% for the series but hit less than a third of his shots after the first two games. The result of all this? Pistons in 5. And it wasn't even close.

Everything leading up to and including 2004 Finals puts what Kobe's doing now in a whole different light. This isn't a guy who's coming to Jesus in the middle of his career. This is a guy who played excellent team basketball while he was become a star, then ditched it all in the Finals and for most of the next two years rather than share the limelight with anyone. While I'm wary of framing all this in terms of pop psychology, the one constant seems to be Kobe's ever-expanding ego. He'll pass the ball to Luke Walton if it gets him to the next playoff series and a bigger stage to be alpha male on. He won't let anyone pass to Shaq, though, even if it means getting blown out by a worse team in the Finals.

Cavs & Wizards

Some random thoughts on last night's Cavaliers-Wizards game:

(1) Has anyone ever scored a quieter 32 points in a playoff game than Antawn Jamison did last night?

(2) I want Caron Butler on my team.

(3) How come Drew Gooden isn't a whole lot better than he is? He just doesn't seem to have basketball instincts, or something.

(4) It was just wrong for Butler to foul out on a play where James just lowered his shoulder.

(5) With less than four seconds left in overtime, with a one point lead, do you think it might have occurred to Jamison that it was a good time to start playing defense, say by denying LeBron James the baseline?

(6) It's sad that James always looks so grim and serious and bad-ass when he should be celebrating. It looks like a pose that he's striking because he just isn't grown-up enough yet to feel comfortable in the spotlight. A few minutes later, when he was interviewed, he was smiling. I hope he learns soon how to smile more.

(7) Will either of these teams win more than a game against Detroit?

Flagrant Foul Dept.

Ouch.

These playoffs defying predictions

Back before the playoffs kicked off, I chipped in to a friendly first round pool with some other NBA obsessives. Historically, the NBA playoffs go overwhelmingly to formula: over a 7 game series the team with the better regular season wins. You can't win a pool by playing these odds, though, because a best case scenario leaves you tied with endless other people who also played it safe.

My big first-round upset prediction was the Bulls over Miami in 7 games. The Bulls went 10-2 at the end of the season to fight their way into the playoffs while the Heat looked lazy and distracted. Scott Skiles has done a fantastic job getting Chicago to consistently play hard and in the games I've seen has been an excellent in-game tactical coach. With all their brittle veterans Miami's risk of injury seems as great or greater than the rest of the playoff field. You knew the Bulls were going to be out-matched in the paint, but good coaching and intensity can cover some flaws.

Complete predictions

Wizards over Cavs in 7
Bulls over Heat in 7
Nets over Pacers in 6
Pistons over Bucks in 5

Suns over Lakers in 6
Spurs over Kings in 6
Clippers over Nuggets in 7
Mavericks over Grizz in 5

The Wizards, Bulls, Pistons, Mavs and Clippers are making me look pretty good so far. The Pacers, Lakers and Kings aren't taking their medicine the way they were supposed to.

The biggest surprise of these playoffs has been the Lakers dominance of the Suns. Really, does it make Kobe seem worse to suddenly see him play incredibly unselfish team ball? Which is worse: for him to be incapable of this or to have been capable and deliberately not playing this way? Can Lakers fans love this series and not want to stone Kobe to death for single-handedly giving Detroit the '04 championship?

LeBron has been brilliant and inconsistent, just what you'd expect of a 21-year-old superstar. The Pacers have shown an incredible ability over the last few years to just turn it on once the playoffs starts. They've been 150% better during the Nets series than they were the last few weeks of the season.

With all the top seeds that have been struggling this year, is David Stern's dream of increased parity starting to come true? I thought I was being bold by predicting that 3 of 8 first round series would go to 7 games. It might be surprising if 3 don't.

Best Steve Nash photoshop ever

Those who haven't been following the fantastic Lakers-Suns series can catch up on the reference here.