Dr. StrangeLeBron or: How I Learned to Stop Hating and Respect #6

Is Lebron James a bad guy?

He used to be one. There were a variety of reasons, all of them reasonable and at the same time utterly bullshit, because that's the nature of fandom. Allegiances to teams and players are mostly arbitrary, usually determined by geographic location, who your parents root for, or because when you were six you thought that team had a cool name or uniform. That's how we decide who to root for and who to root against. And because we care so much about these arbitrarily chosen teams, they become an extension of who we are, and we feel we are an extension of who they are. So when a great player comes along and dominates your team, we take it personally. It's idiotic, pointless, illogical, and yet completely accepted by the masses.

So why do we hate LeBron?

The "we" I'm talking about is pretty much everyone outside of Miami and LeBron's family. Me personally, I hated LeBron because he burst on the basketball scene as the next Michael Jordan. No, strike that. He was meant to be greater than Jordan. "The Chosen One." He even wore the same number as MJ, 23, while he played for Cleveland. As a Bulls fan who grew up idolizing His Airness and witnessing the sheer destructiveness of the Bulls teams of the '90s, this trumpeting of James as someone who was sure to surpass Jordan's greatness was an affront to everything that defines me as a Bulls fan. You degrade my player, my team, my city, you degrade me by extension. Or at least that's how I used to think.

James took the NBA by storm when he arrived in Cleveland. He lived up to the hype: The Akron Hammer, the one who had what it took to carry the Cavaliers to the Finals. Time and time again I watched him beat the Bulls. So not only was he replacing MJ, he was rubbing it in my face. So I began rooting for his failure. When he made it to the Finals for the first time and lost, I felt a great deal of schadenfreude. As he continued to wrack up wins and playoff appearances, that schadenfreude grew. As long as he never won a ring, he'd never equal Jordan. That's all that mattered. Idiotic, pointless, illogical, and completely accepted by Chicagoans and nearly everyone outside of Cleveland.

Then something new happened: The Decision.

LeBron left Cleveland in a poor manner, that's not even a debate. Up until that point, the hatred of James was based purely on that bullshit nature of fandom. But then he publicly humiliated Cleveland, leaving a midwestern city for the glitzy, sunny locale of Miami. Now that's just unacceptable, and almost enough evidence to reasonably hate on James. Almost. So he went and joined his friends in Miami in hopes of finally winning an NBA title. His decision was motivated by a desire to win, fair enough. But then Miami held that stupid parade/pep rally where James went on about winning, "not one, not two, not three, not four, not five, not six," championships. Notice he implied winning more than six rings, the number that Jordan has. I took that personally.

With a new Big Three down in Miami, the desire to see LeBron fail seemed to grow. Joining with his superstar buddies in order to win championships felt like cheating somehow. A type of loophole for collusion. In the days and months after The Decision, a number of former NBA stars came about how they wouldn't have teamed up like that: Bird, Magic, and Jordan. MJ said something along the lines of wanted to beat them rather than join them in order to prove how good he was. And so I ate that up, believing it with the furor of some evangelical eating up a fiery sermon.

LeBron and the Big Three culminated their inaugural season by losing in the NBA Finals to the Dallas Mavericks, a team whose superstar player (Dirk Nowitzki) and owner (Mark Cuban) seemed to deserve a ring more so that James and company. Unlike the Heat, the Mavs' roster wasn't built New York Yankees style: Paying top dollar for the best players. Dirk chose to re-sign with Dallas the previous summer, so he had the loyalty factor LeBron no longer had, and the Mavs themselves were a team, not three superstars and some roster fillers. All this made Dallas's victory even sweeter, because I'm stupid like that.

Then something weird happened: He won. They won. And the rapture didn't even occur.

On Thursday, June 21, 2012, LeBron James and the Miami Heat won the NBA Championship. No raining frogs, no locusts, no erasing Michael Jordan's accomplishments. Ok, sure, Udonis Haslem and Eddy Curry both won rings, and that is some bullshit. But otherwise Jordan's legacy somehow stayed intact. Bizarre, huh? They're not going to tear down his stature outside the United Center or burn the championship banners hanging up inside. Jordan's not going to have to forfeit his rings and his victory cigars. Because there's only one Jordan, and even though it took me about eight years to realize this, I finally did.

One you accept the fact that there will only ever be one Michael Jordan (or one Bill Russell or Wilt Chamberlain), it gets a lot easier to not hate on LeBron.

There's been a lot said and written about LeBron throughout his career. We like to look at sports as more than just a bunch of guys doing things with bats and balls and hoops and helmets. We like our sports to carry a narrative, a live-action story we tune into night in and night out. And as with all stories, there have to be plots, settings, protagonists, antagonists, happy endings, and sad endings. But because the lens with which we sports fans use to look through when cheering on our team or booing another one is a bullshit lens, the characters and their roles are bullshit as well. Inevitably, James ends up cast as a villain: A selfish, disloyal antagonist whose failures strengthen our self-esteem because we like to live through those good guys who defeat James on the court.

I'll probably go back to hating on LeBron once the next season kicks off, only this time with much less ammunition to rely on when trying to portray him as the bad guy. Truthfully, though, there are no bad guys or good guys in sports (unless you're some legitimate asshole like Pacman Jones or Jerramy Stevens) because, once again, it's all arbitrary. If you're only crime is beating my team, I don't really hate you. I kinda hate you, but deep down not really. I only sorta hate you because I'm supposed to, because you're ruining the narrative of a happy ending for the good guys.


So congratulations, LeBron James. You finally did it, and I can't reasonably say I hate you for it. You earned it. Good for you.

A Perfectly Boring Game

"Baseball is boring." "Baseball is so slow." I don't know how many times I've either heard or read this. Other baseball fans can lament as well. I heard it just the other day, when I was out with a friend and a Boston-Tampa Bay game happened to be on the TV. I watched with rapt interest while my friend could barely keep his eyes on the screen. As I began to fade away into the game, zoning out of our booth, my friend remarked how boring he found baseball games to be. It's a simple fact of life for baseball fans: Inevitably you'll run into a friend who can't stand it. Maybe they're huge football fans, where there's tackling and passing and guys flying all over the place pretty much without stopping, minus the time in the huddle. Or they like basketball, with a shot being taken every possession, high scores, and monster dunks. Hockey has fights, power plays, and shoot-outs.

All the time between pitches, the number of foul balls during an at-bat, an eight-pitch walk, a pop fly, a ground-out to the second baseman. A line-out to the third baseman, a fly ball to the left fielder, a seven-pitch strike-out, a 6-4-3 double-play. A failed bunt attempt, a dribbler out to the pitcher, four straight step-offs to keep a baserunner in check. A pitch-out, an intentional walk, six straight foul balls. A pitching change, another pitching change, another pitching change, another pitching change. A mound conference, another mound conference with the pitching coach, a batter calls time, a pitcher steps off, three straight pickoff throws to first.

Lackluster. Monotonous. A snooze fest.

But what about home runs? Grand slams, walk-offs, leadoff homers, inside-the-park home runs, back-to-back jacks. A stolen base, a double steal, a steal of home. Hitting for the cycle. A hustle double, a suicide squeeze, beating the throw home, barreling over the catcher, running through a stop sign at third, a 5-for-5 night. A player's 3000th hit, their 500th home run. Tying it up with two outs in the 9th, hitting a ball completely out of the park (and into a street or river), a come-from-behind victory. Curtain calls, bases-loaded hits, bouncing it fair off the foul pole. Clearing the Green Monster, landing it in the basket, smacking it onto the railroad tracks, into McCovey Cove, the Allegheny, the Ohio River, the ray tank, the waterfall. A double-digit strikeout game, a no-hitter, a perfect game. A complete game, a shut-out. Throwing a runner out at home, nailing a wannabe base stealer. Making a diving catch, doubling off a runner, a leaping throw to get a runner, a barehanded pick and toss, robbing someone of a home run. A triple play.

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Baseball is a lot like a story. A long, complex story with a ton of minutiae. Without understanding all the little details, it's hard to understand the narrative very well. You may grasp the whole picture, but grasping it and appreciating it are two entirely different things. There are a whole number of layers to baseball that not everyone realizes exists, and the more you discover and understand these layers, the more exciting the game becomes. The story becomes more complex, more nuanced, and exciting. Suddenly every pitch has significance, every foul ball adds a detail to the story, and every at-bat is another chapter.

An 0-2 count can mean that a strike-out is about to occur. But the first strike was a borderline call and the second strike was a foul ball that the batter put good wood on. The batter may be behind in the count, but he's not in as bad a shape as he looks. Pitch three is a ball in the dirt. The pitcher threw a breaking ball, trying to get the batter to chase at a bad pitch. The first two pitches were fastballs and were meant to set up the breaking ball by messing with the batter's timing. But that didn't work, the pitcher needs to make another pitch. Does he throw another breaking ball, or go back to the fastball? He has a 1-2 count, room to throw another breaking ball outside the strike zone, but the batter is aware of this too. The catcher calls a pitch, and the pitcher shakes him off. The batter wonders what pitch he shook off. Maybe the pitcher didn't like the location the catcher called. The first pitch had been on the outside corner while the second pitch drifted over from the outside corner to over the plate. Maybe liked neither the pitch nor the location. The pitcher throws a fastball, the batter recognizes it, and manages to foul it off and stay alive. Did that mean he was looking for the breaking ball? Did the pitcher have him fooled?

It's still a 1-2 count. Again, the pitcher can afford to throw a breaking ball outside the strike zone. But he could also go with a high fastball. The batter chased the fastball on the last pitch, maybe he'll do it again. The pitcher opts for the breaking ball, and again bounces it. Did he mean to bounce it? Or was he trying to freeze the batter with a strike while the batter was looking fastball? Maybe the hitter was expecting a breaking ball and quickly recognized it was going to be a ball. The count is 2-2. The pitcher's gotta go fastball, right? He can't seem to throw his breaking ball for a strike. But wait, the pitcher also can throw a splitter. This would seem like the perfect time to throw it, but the batter knows that, and the pitcher hasn't thrown a splitter in about 15 pitches. It's also only the 2nd inning, so the pitcher doesn't know if he has a good feel for the pitch yet. He throws it anyway. Ball three is low and outside. 3-2. Three of the pitcher's last four pitches have been balls. He doesn't want to walk the batter, but the only pitch he can throw for a strike is his fastball, and the batter is an excellent fastball hitter. He goes with the fastball, and the batter grounds out to the shortstop. But during his next at-bat, the batter only swings at fastballs and hits a home run.

The devil's in the details, every pitch, every at-bat.

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I don't really know how to end this post. I'm not the best at wrapping things up, and it also happens to be 4 a.m. The point is, baseball can be boring. I admit that. It can be suffocatingly boring at times. Watching bad teams play shitty baseball for three hours is draining, and if these teams go into extra innings, I feel bad for those people who are at the game, paying to sit and watch crummy baseball for hours on end. But then there are these moments: It's the 8th inning of a one-run game, the bases are loaded, and your star pitcher is trying to protect that lead while facing the other team's best hitter. The pitcher throws fastballs and breaking balls. That's it, just those two pitches. What's he gonna throw? How is he going to get this hitter out? First pitch fastball? If he does, what comes next? Another fastball? Finish him off with a breaking ball?

It's not easy to learn all the minutiae of baseball. It's taken me years to really grasp the different layers of the game (as much as someone who's only watched but never played can). A well-played game or series can be just as fascinating and captivating as a good book. But it's hard to appreciate a good book if you rely on the cliff notes instead of the book itself. That's sort of what it's like to watch baseball without a deep level of appreciation for the subtleties of the game. So hey, if you want to just go by one cliff notes, then by all means do so. But remember that when you critique baseball for being boring. You're not getting the whole story. And let me tell you, it's quite a tale. Well worth the read.

"The Hunger Games" Review

Two-And-A-Half Stars

For me, there are three integral parts that comprise a successful movie: Writing, directing, and acting. "The Hunger Games" manages to only do well in one of those three, so-so in another one of those categories, and struggling in the other category. The acting was quite enjoyable to watch, the writing decent though imperfect, with the directing somewhat lacking in execution.

We begin in a dystopian future, one where the remains of the United States exist as 12 districts that are ruled by a cruel, unforgiving authoritarian government. Every year, as a reminder of what led to this, each district must send two teenage champions, one male and one female, to compete in a tournament called the "Hunger Games." In this tournament, 24 champions enter. Only one survives. Katniss Everdeen (Jennifer Lawrence), a 16-year-old girl from District 12, volunteers to enter the Games. Joining her from District 12 is Peeta Mellark (Josh Hutchinson). Together, they are put in the near-impossible situation of surviving the Hunger Games, a situation complicated by romance, uneasy alliances, and an unforgiving environment.

I've read the first two books of Suzanne Collins' young-adult trilogy, so I should be clear that my expectations of the movie likely vary from those who are unfamiliar with the books. If you are unfamiliar with the novels, don't worry: I won't be spoiling anything. I've done my best to consider this movie both in the eyes of readers as well as those for whom the movie is their first exposure to the world of the books.

The strongest part of the film was, by far, the acting, as the entire ensemble did a splendid job with what they were given. Jennifer Lawrence, Josh Hutchinson, and Woody Harrelson (playing a previous victor from District 12 named Haymitch), as the movie's three leading characters, all brought their own definitive presences to the screen, and Liam Hemsworth as Gale (a friend of Katniss's from District 12) gave a good deal of weight to someone who wasn't given a whole lot to work with. Lawrence has previously proven her abilities in "Winter's Bone" (which she was nominated for an Oscar), and Harrelson's experience really carries Haymitch's character through the movie (I'll have more on this later). Hutchinson and Hemsworth are a pleasant surprise, considering they are relatively unknown actors, and each one has their own unique chemistry with Lawrence.

But as strong as the acting was, there were other elements that dragged the movie down, or at least prevented from being as good as it could have been (prepare yourselves for Debbie Downer mode). I'll start with the directing, mainly because my complaints in this department aren't very exhaustive. The biggest issue for me was the visual style director Gary Ross chose to utilize. Ross went after a look that mirrors "Cloverfield" and the Jason Bourne series: Lots of jump cuts, shaky camera work, and odd angles that were supposed to create an air of suspense. Yet instead of feeling unsettled, the visual style came off as contrived, a replication of prior films, such as the ones mentioned, aiming to create a similar visual mood.

At times this worked: The moment the Games began, the tracker jackers scene, and the major fight scenes. That's when this style of quick cuts and wild camera movements were the most successful: Capturing the complete chaos of the Games. But this style was present from the film's beginning in District 12 through the champions' training and all the way until the end of the movie. Certain climatic moments throughout the film lend themselves better to a shift in visual style, to one less chaotic and more somber. This would especially aid to distinguish the nature of the Games within the fighting arena and the nature of the districts.

But the most irksome thing about the movie, speaking as someone who's read the book (no spoilers, feel free to keep reading), has to be the writing. It's not that the writing failed in any major capacity, though. It's that there's a good deal of room for improvement, with pacing being the main issue. The movie sped along at a surprisingly fast pace right from the outset, barely giving enough time introduce Katniss, her family, Gale, Peeta, and the general hopelessness/bitterness of life and society in District 12. Considering how integral the theme of rebellion is to the book, the fact that the movie barely touches on this hurts the setting. Almost no time is given to characters' backstories, and while the pieces we manage to get give an adequate picture of who everyone is, the film had time to really delve into each person's nature.

Why spend only five to ten minutes introducing the world that "The Hunger Games" takes place? Why speed through the training process? Taking the time to really establishing characters and setting would add so much more, giving characters more depth and scenes more emotion (speaking as someone who's read the book). It's really due to the actors' performances that we get a decent picture of these characters in spite of the writing. This is doubly so during scenes where either the dialogue is sparse, or when there's a very limited amount of screen time given to establish certain character traits.

There's no narration, which I think would have greatly aided a film that requires the amount of exposition "The Hunger Games" creates. Normally I'm not a fan of characters narrating their own stories (Katniss is the narrator in the books), as I find it to be too simple a way to explain things, but this is a case where I think narration would've worked (along with more backstory). The few flashbacks that are in the movie can't quite stand on their feet without proper context, which is sadly missing. Just look at how "Batman Begins" incorporates flashbacks of Bruce Wayne's childhood into the first act of the movie for an example of great execution of story editing and flashbacks.

And when trying to look at the movie from the eyes of someone who hasn't read the books, the quick pacing and brief character molds can make it hard for that type of audience to grow attached to particular characters and to really notice and root for the rebellious undertones of the movie. But the story's intriguing enough on its own, and even with its rushed nature still covers all the bases of the novel.

What "The Hunger Games" boils down to is potential versus execution. It's not perfect by any stretch, but it's more than an adequate adaptation. I just can't help feeling that Ross missed the mark on this one, if only by a few hairs. I know I may seem a bit critical in this review, but I genuinely enjoyed the movie (as someone who's read the book). There are flaws, as exist in all films, but these are really minor ones even though I go on and on about them. The acting impressed me, and while the other main components of the movie couldn't match, "The Hunger Games" is an overall success. Imperfect, but still a success.

Playlist for "The Walking Dead"

At times, season two of AMC's "The Walking Dead" was ridiculously awesome, with zombie hordes, moral dilemmas, and blood and guts flying everywhere. Other times, not so much (I'm looking at you Lori and Carl). But overall I quite enjoyed it, and I can't wait for season three.

The songs I've selected for this playlist either were used on the show itself, or reflect the moody atmosphere of the show and of the zombie genre. Unlike how I normally construct playlists for things like shows and books (where specific characters and events are assigned particular songs that evolve thematically as the story does), this playlist is a bit looser because I'm aiming for a particular mood rather than a musical narrative.

Anyway, enough rambling. I've included some notes about the songs, so without further ado:

Civilian - Wye Oak*

Dustbowl Dance - Mumford & Sons

Youngstown [Live] - Bruce Springsteen**

The Regulator - Clutch*

Wouldn't It Be Nice - The Beach Boys

American Jesus - Bad Religion

The Wanderer - U2 Feat. Johnny Cash

Barton Hollow - The Civil Wars

The Wind - Billy Bob Thornton

O Death - Ralph Stanley

Run Run Run - The Velvet Underground

Howlin' For You - The Black Keys

Happiness Is A Warm Gun - The Beatles

Battle Of Jericho - Hugh Laurie

All Along The Watchtower - Jimi Hendrix

Wake Up Dead Man - U2

My My Hey Hey (Out Of The Blue) - Neil Young

Hallelujah - Rufus Wainwright

*Used on the show itself
**The live version I use is from the Live In New York City concert album

Albums I've Been Listening To This Semester

I spent this semester listening to a lot of music, so I figure I'd share what I've been listening to for the last few months. And because I'm clearly the second coming of Lester Bangs (note: that was sarcasm), I'm going to briefly review them. So in no particular order (well ok I put The Replacements first because they're The Replacements, dammit. Of course they're going to be first (second note: I may or may not be a Replacements fanboy (pointless third set of parentheses (I think this sentence is now FUBAR)))), here are a handful of albums I listened to a lot at various times over the semester:

Let It Be — The Replacements

If I were stranded on a desert island and could only pick one album to bring with me, it'd be this one without a doubt. It's perfect. Paul Westerberg's lyrics, which switch back and forth from facetious to thoughtful, fit perfectly with the driving guitars and music that sounds more like a band just jamming together in a garage than meticulously recording an album in a music studio.


Mylo Xyloto — Coldplay
Yes, I know. It's Coldplay, and people love to hate Coldplay. Well you know what? Haters gonna hate, and this was a decent album. This isn't the same Coldplay that made Parachutes and A Quick Rush Of Blood To The Head, as the band has seemed to build on the sound it developed on Viva La Vida. It's rhythm oriented and synth heavy, but the ringing guitars are still there.


Sigh No More — Mumford & Sons

A friend described Mumford & Sons to me as merely Coldplay with banjos. As a fan of both Coldplay and banjos, I'm perfectly ok with this description. Sure, their songs are a bit formulaic and they all have random banjo solos popping up, but it's a folk album. What else do you expect? I'm excited to see what they do next, with this being their first album.

Magic — Bruce Springsteen
I'm a big Springsteen fan, but I really only enjoy the music he made early on in his career. I rarely get around to listening to anything after Born In The USA, and so I often forget about how good The Rising and Magic were, two of the albums he made in the 2000s after regrouping with the E-Street Band (Working On A Dream was fairly unremarkable). This album is energetic and has a modern, evolved E-Street sound that compliment Springsteen's subtly dark lyrics, which reflect on the Bush Administration and the war in the Middle East.


Take Off Your Pants And Jacket — Blink 182

Pop punk is a genre I'm a bit conflicted about: On one hand, I like the fast and furious sound that's derivative of protopunk bands like The Stooges, but on the other, I tend not to care for the lyrics because I couldn't care less about high school angst. But in this case, I grew quite attached to this album for a few weeks. I think the fact that Blink 182 utilizes two lead singers helps keep the album sounding fresh. And of course "Happy Holidays You Bastard" is just a really entertaining song.

The Clash — The Clash
I hope that because it's 2011, I don't have to say anything about how great The Clash are. It's assumed at this point. This is an album I like to put on when when people come over and when I can't make a decision as to what to listen to (and considering I have over 14,000 songs, this speeds the decision-making process up quite a bit). It's loud, and it's real punk.


Boy — U2

Everyone knows how great The Joshua Tree and Achtung Baby are. War and The Unforgettable Fire are probably also recognized as good early U2 albums, but Boy tends to get overlooked, possibly because it's their debut album and wasn't much of a hit. But it's right out of the post-punk genre, sounding a bit like Joy Division but with Bono's enthusiasm replacing Ian Curtis's dreariness. The fifth track, "Out Of Control," is a particular favorite of mine.

Panopticon — Isis
Is post-metal an actual genre of music, or did I just invent that term? If you're unfamiliar with Isis, just imagine Sigur Ros combined with Tool. If you're unfamiliar with those bands, I'm afraid I can't help you (just stop reading and Youtube "Popplagio" and "Parabola." You're welcome). Most of the songs build slowly to a deafening, pulsing crescendo of sweeping, distorted guitars and guttural vocals. Post-metal? Progressive metal? Alternative metal? I dunno. Whatever it may be, Isis is good at it.

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Some albums have great songs, but as a whole either aren't so good or just didn't do it for me. Here are some individual songs that I've been listening to that aren't from the albums listed above:

"Set Fire To The Rain" — Adele
"Raining Blood" — Slayer
"Wake Up" "Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains)" — Arcade Fire
"Disarm" "Galapogos" — Smashing Pumpkins
"Violet Hill" — Coldplay
"Power" "All Of The Lights" "Homecoming" — Kayne West
"Exit" — U2
"Long Forgotten Sons" — Rise Against
"Walk" — Foo Fighters
"Awful" — Hole
"All Apologies" — Nirvana

(I thought about apologizing here at the end for possibly sounding like a pretentious music snob (which I admit I kind of am), but you know what? This is what I like to listen to. If you don't like it, I don't care. I'll enjoy it by myself if I have to.)

Until next time, Orange Hat Guy