Passionate poetry, sharp short stories, and random rants
Permanently pursuing productivity
Painfully punishing pauses
Wait, why would we want worth woundup with work?
Security? Safety? Sensibility?
Constantly creating content
Culling creative conviction
Take a break for just one second
Ah, isn’t this nice?
He had never driven for so long in such silence, but he finally made it. He picked up his bag of gear from the trunk, slung it over his shoulder, and slammed the trunk shut. It had been over three years since he was here, but he remembered the way. It was almost noon, and he walked west, feeling the sun on the back of his neck. It was one of those crisp mornings where the sun shone so brightly, but it didn’t seem to warm anything up. He liked those mornings. They invigorated him. She did not like those mornings, he remembered. The combination of the bright sun and the cold air irritated her. “Make up your mind!” she’d say.
He took a hearty swig from the water bottle he bought from the gas station two hundred miles back. He couldn’t even remember being in the gas station. Throughout the entire drive he had been in a thoughtless state, just going through the motions. He felt, as he started down the dirt path, as if he had just woken up, though he had been awake for several hours.
He remembered the path well, as if they had been here yesterday. Of course it wasn’t yesterday, he acknowledged. It was almost four years ago now. He stopped. Don’t think about that just yet, he told himself, there’s still a long walk. For the next fifteen minutes he saw nobody and heard nobody. It was Tuesday morning, after all, and it was always more crowded on the weekends. Even the birds were quiet. The only sounds were his steady footsteps crunching on the dirt.
He kept his focus on the path ahead and on his own breathing. He didn’t even let any words form in his mind. It was all about moving forward, moving forward. Eventually he walked past a grey-haired woman walking her dog. She smiled and said, “Hello!” and he nodded to her. His heart raced a bit, as it does when one is on the way to commit a crime and has to play it cool with every basic interaction. What he was about to do almost certainly was a crime, he acknowledged. And what of it? He was doing it, and dwelling on the legality might discourage him. So stop thinking about it.
He kept on until he reached the first fork in the path. He stopped to look at the sign, and he couldn’t help the words and memories rushing to his mind. When they first came here, they looked at this same sign. One arrow pointed to the “Grant Path,” the other to the “Jackson Path.” They never confirmed that the paths were named after the presidents, but they probably were. They talked about who would win in a fight. Grant, they agreed. Who’d they rather have a drink with? Obviously Grant, they agreed. Maybe, she suggested, the paths were named after the actors, Hugh Grant and Hugh Jackson. He laughed. I think you mean Hugh Jackman, he said. There’s gotta be a Hugh Jackson somewhere who’s an actor, she said. They laughed, and from then on they always called Hugh Jackman “Hugh Jackson.”
He shook his head to stop the playback of the memory and started walking again, down the Jackson Path. Short brush lined the left side of the path, and trees, mostly aspen, lined the right side. He suddenly realized he was quite hungry. He only had a piece of toast in the morning before leaving, so he reached into his pack and pulled out a protein bar. Now he could focus on walking, breathing, and chewing to prevent any more memories from flooding back.
He walked and walked and walked, past a stream that he didn’t notice, through a shady tree canopy that he didn’t notice, over a bridge that he didn’t notice. He was moving forward. He slipped back into his thoughtless state. There was only the motion forward, and he had to take each step. He was interrupted by a man walking the opposite direction. The man said something, but he couldn’t understand the words.
“What?” he said, annoyed that he was being stopped.
“I said ‘nice shirt,’” the man said.
“Oh.”
“There’s someone else with the same shirt a few miles down the path that I just saw,” the man said.
“There’s what?”
“There’s someone else wearing that same shirt that you’re wearing. And I just saw them. It’s no big deal. Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he said absently. “The shirt is good. Thank you.”
He stood there, and the man walked away, slightly concerned. What was going on? Just that simple phrase? “There’s someone else,” the man had said. That’s what she had said to him. It was a simple phrase, but it was so heavy. There’s someone else, she had said, and it was all over. His life, as he loved it, had evaporated. He was completely shocked and devastated. Someone else, those two words held so much. Of course there’s someone else, there’s always someone else in this world. What she meant was there was someone else [that she preferred instead of me]. There was someone else, she said. And I’m willing to throw you away for them, she thought. Someone else.
He realized he was having trouble breathing, and he looked around to see if anyone was nearby. The man was out of sight. He was alone. He knelt down, putting his hands on his knees, trying to calm down.
“Come on,” he said to himself under his breath. He pulled his water bottle out of his pack and took a swig. After a few moments he stood back up. “Fuck,” he said, and started walking again.
He knew the first landmark to look for, so he focused on that. Maybe one of the landmarks wasn’t there any more? And he wouldn’t be able to find the spot? Yeah, that might happen. Let’s just keep going, and we’ll see. He clenched his upper body muscles to feel alive, to feel in control.
He kept his eyes on the trees on the right, waiting for the signal. The path went up a small hill, up another hill, then slowly down. Yes, he remembered that. It curved to the right, and he saw a discarded empty Gatorade bottle on the ground. He looked down at it. Wherever they had walked together, she always picked up discarded plastic bottles. In a place like this, she’d carry it for miles and miles, then take it all the way home and recycle it. He started doing the same, whenever he came across a plastic bottle.
He thought about how much she had changed him. She had opened his eyes on so many things. His attitudes, his behaviors, his view of the world, were all so different now. He was better for it. She was spontaneous in life, but not in buying things. He was spontaneous in both. She had encouraged him to, before he bought anything, write down on a piece of paper why he was buying it. If the reason was unconvincing, don’t buy it. That simple act saved him money, of course, but it also changed his perspective on buying things and owning things. To buy something is a distorted joy.
He couldn’t believe he used to eat animal flesh before he met her. She had opened his eyes on that one too. He remembered the phrase she so often said, “Every choice is something.” He knew it was right to pick up the bottle, but he didn’t, as if picking it up would mean that she won. It would be an admission that he still wanted to do what she wanted him to do. Yeah, he thought, every choice is something, she made a choice, and this is the something.
He continued on. After another curve of the path, he walked across the narrow wooden bridge over the stream. He walked for another half mile when he saw the first landmark, a juniper tree with several pairs of shoes hanging from its branches. At this point, he needed to leave the path, enter the forest and walk exactly perpendicular to the path. It took about ten minutes to walk to the next landmark, so he looked at his watch. 9:32. If he walked until 9:45 without seeing it, that means he missed it, and he’d have to turn back.
He noticed that he felt colder now in the shade of the trees. Soon after entering the forest, it became dense. He tried to keep his overall direction, but he had to walk around tree after tree. As this part of the journey required more effort than following a path, it was easier to prevent any thoughts of her. The second landmark was harder to find, so he kept his eyes moving back and forth. It was quiet in the forest.
He saw it! The next marker was a blue ribbon tied around a branch ten feet high. It was easy to miss, especially in the shade under the trees. He looked up at the ribbon, satisfied that he was on the right path. He retrieved his water bottle again and took two large gulps. From here, he was to travel due north. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his metal compass. The glass was severely scratched, but it was still usable. It was the same compass his dad had given him so many years ago, when they used to go camping and fishing together. The red arrow settled on north, and he followed it.
He looked at his watch again. 9:43. He relaxed his eyes as he walked since the next marker was much easier to spot. He enjoyed this old style of navigation, and he believed it was part of the reason why the destination was secluded. He looked up to avoid running into trees or bushes, and he looked down to maintain his northward trajectory. He looked up, he looked down.
He finally came across some animal life, a squirrel running away from him. A woodpecker pecked away on a tree. He liked that sound. When you heard it, there was no doubt what it was. After fifteen more minutes of walking, he found the third marker, a small clearing in the trees with a boulder in the middle. The sun shone down on the massive rock. He used to imagine himself as a young fantasy hero at this point, finding a magical sword in the rock. He never told her about this imagined story. It was just for his own mind. Within the story, he always featured her as some magical, wise being, like a beautiful elf queen, that helps him on his journey to destroy the dragon or the beast.
He looked at his compass again and started walking directly east now. There were no more markers. After ten more minutes of walking, the trees abruptly cleared, and he stepped into the meadow. His eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness. It was as he remembered it from the first time they came here. The tall grass swayed in the gentle breeze. The few purple flowers stood eagerly. The single tree stood in the middle of the meadow.
He stood still, considering the tree, slowly moving his eyes from its base all the way to the top. He was finally here. There was no one else in the meadow, so he walked slowly, deliberately towards the tree. As he got close, he considered the trunk’s bark intensely. It was a typical quaking aspen, thin and almost white. He stepped around it, looked at the other side, and saw it: their initials carved into the tree. He had carved them during their first time here, and he had carved the heart that surrounded the initials. That was the happiest he had ever been.
He reached out his right hand and touched the carving. He felt it with his fingers. Here it was, a physical, tangible relic of their love.
He remembered the first time she brought him here, how it felt like their own personal oasis. She jumped and sang freely. They danced and picked flowers and laughed loudly. He carved their initials while she hugged him from the side, watching him. They kissed. She laid him down in the meadow.
He forced himself to stop remembering. She was doing that with someone else now, and he couldn’t think about it. He breathed slowly and heavily through his nostrils as his anger swelled. He gripped the tree as hard as he could for a moment, then dropped his pack to the ground. He ripped open the zipper and pulled out the axe. He stood up and grasped the handle tightly, feeling himself in control.
He stared at the carved initials, directing all of his anger at that heart. He pulled the axe back, his left hand gripping the base of the handle, his right hand close to the blade. As he pulled the axe forward, his right hand slid down the handle smoothly. It was a natural motion for him, one he had performed many times before. He swung forward and made strong contact a foot below the heart. The sound cut through the silent meadow.
He looked back at the heart as he yanked the axe out. He let the carving fuel his anger, and he let his anger fuel his upper body. “Took everything away from me,” were the only words that formed in his mind. They repeated themselves with every strike of the axe. His eyes moved back and forth mechanically, staring at the heart as he pulled out the axe, staring at his cut as he swung the axe. Swing after swing, cut after cut, images of her flashed in his mind. “Fuck you,” he said under strained breath. He wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or the someone else.
He pulled back, propelled the axe forward, again and again. The cut was getting deeper. His motions became more erratic, hacking away with rage, missing his mark, attacking the tree. Scraps of wood flew out. The wood cracked. The axe cut deep. The whole tree groaned. He dropped his axe and pushed with all his strength on the tree, staring at the heart as the tree slowly fell. It crashed to the ground with a final thud. Dirt and dust floated out. He breathed heavily, exasperated, looking around. He was still alone.
There was no catharsis, no closure. He was spent. There was nothing left to do but go home.
The death of Brian Thompson is as sad as sad can be
Who else could lead such a stand-up company?
Train your workers, deny those claims
Don’t think of people, they’re just names
Forget about those violations
Listen to us corporations
You don’t want healthcare for all
Profits vanish, prices fall
Bankruptcy from hospital bills
Lavish parties for corporate shills
Some deaths may be preventable
But universal healthcare is just not implementable
Don’t look at Finland
or Sweden
or Iceland
or Denmark
or Belgium
or Norway
or Cuba
or Switzerland
or Germany
or Luxembourg
or Singapore
or Austria
or Portugal
or the Netherlands
or even France, for God’s sake
Two travelers at a chance meeting
Winter farewell from a summer greeting
Connect for a spell, all is well
As they’re laughing, drinking, eating
One is leaving, the other staying
It’s just the game of life they’re playing
Such simple sweet goodbye they’re saying
Sitting at his old typewriter
Raised a lover, turned a fighter
Fueled by rage, tapping keys
Sudden thoughts, desperate pleas
“Dying people on a dying Earth,
choked by those with high net worth,
hold a simple, moral right
Facing death, stand up and fight
Planet killers, hold your breath
Watch your back, merchants of death
Greedy ones, know your fate
The people will retaliate
Your end cheered across the land
A fact you fail to understand”
He stepped away, turned on his game
Surely tomorrow he’d feel the same
Ten years ago, this very day
I tried to throw my life away
The poison failed to acquiesce
And I woke up a broken mess
Inch by inch I raised my head
Step by step crawled out of bed
Piece by piece put back together
Day by day I braved the weather
A decade passed, as decades do
Some years dragged and others flew
I crave some strong epiphany
Some life-affirming ecstasy
But no such answer did appear
Life gave only what I fear
Nothing
Life must go for its own sake
Ebb and flow, give and take
Three days from now I’ll be flying
A slight improvement over dying
In loving memory of some old geezer
Loving father and people pleaser
Eighty years on planet Earth
Bumbling, fumbling since his birth
Met his wife in New York City
He stood tall and she looked pretty
Made a living fixing cars
Accumulating minor scars
Taught his son to throw a baseball
Took his daughter to the dance hall
They grew up and he grew old
Felt his precious life unfold
At Plymouth Park he fed the fish
Was there he made his final wish
Seventy-nine got diagnosed
One final trip to the coast
When he takes his final breath
And passes swiftly into death
A marker left about his life
His happiness and charming wife
And so this bench sits at the park
In the light and through the dark
What happened to you, canyon girl?
What happened to that wild soul?
Once was young, in love with life
Free of spirit, born of fire
Traded for domestication
Suburban home, two weeks vacation
You used to paint a pretty picture
Now you help the rich get richer
Once had a heart of shining gold
All strong convictions cheaply sold
Spend your time with a rape apologist
Not exactly your older politics
Where have you gone, unquiet mind?
Is it dullness you now find?
What happened to you, canyon girl?
10. Eleanor Rigby
Eleanor Rigby is a song about a person whose name, one might imagine, is Eleanor Rigby. So she hangs around and picks up rice in a church where a wedding has been. And Paul pronounces “been” how I would pronounce “bean.” Like that one part where Mrs. Weasley says “Where HAVE you BEEN?” The beds were empty, the car was gone, and no note was given.
Anyway, then there’s this other person called Father Mackenzie. Mackenzie is a selfish individual. Mackenzie writes a sermon that no one will hear because Mackenzie likes the appearance of doing great things and being a good person. But in reality, Mackenzie doesn’t care at all. Mackenzie only cares about Mackenzie. Mackenzie’s words are shallow and empty. When the time comes for Mackenzie to show some character, Mackenzie does nothing but wipe dirt from Mackenzie’s own hands, merely going through the motions to maintain Mackenzie’s status. Mackenzie is nothing but a hypocrite. Boy, am I glad I don’t know someone like Mackenzie!
Oh, and the vocals are pretty good in this song.
9. Taxman
The Beatles reference a few real people in their songs, such as Edgar Allan Poe (I Am the Walrus) and Sir Walter Raleigh (I’m So Tired). These two references, made by John Lennon, are a bit cheeky, a bit silly, they might even induce a sense of whimsy. Two years before, however, George Harrison referenced two contemporary political figures. They were Harold Wilson, Prime Minister of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland at the time, and Ted Heath, Leader of the Conservative Party of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland at the time.
The Beatles were being taxed an astronomical amount, and George was rather peeved about it. So he wrote this song to express that sentiment. I like to imagine the Assistant to the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland stepping nervously into Mr. Wilson’s office on the day Revolver came out. “Sir,” he begins timidly, “the biggest band in the history of the world have mentioned you in their recent album.”
“Oh,” Mr. Wilson replies Englishly. “Are they commending my leadership?”
“Erm,” the assistant says, “Yes.”
He doesn’t have the heart to tell Mr. Wilson that George Harrison is telling him to fuck off.
This song is the most politically charged in the Beatles discography. George’s biting, satirical lyrics are his best work with the Beatles, and the bass/electric guitar combo really cooks.
8. Octopus’s Garden
You know I had to include at least one Ringo song on this list. Well, actually, I don’t have to do that. I don’t have to write this at all, or write anything for that matter. But you know what? I want to, and doesn’t that count for something in this work-a-day world? Sometimes you gotta consider what you’d like to do or where you’d like to be. As for me, I’d like to be, you may have guessed it, under the sea, specifically in the garden of an octopus, specifically in the shade. That sounds pretty great.
This is just a nice, pleasant song sandwiched between two heavier tracks. Before it comes the screamlike vocals and desperate lyrics of Oh! Darling, and after it comes possibly the heaviest Beatles song in I Want You (She’s So Heavy). So it’s a nice little break between those two. The Beatles [especially in the second half of their career] were great at sequencing their albums, picking the right order of songs. This is just another example of that.
This song makes me happy, and that’s a good thing.
7. It’s All Too Much
It really is, George. It really is.
This song has one of the best intros in the Beatles catalog. What is John saying? “To your muh!” It’s like he’s about to say “to your mother” but he gets interrupted by this searing, wobbling guitar that fills you with gratitude that electric guitars were invented. When that has run its course, we are graced with glorious chords on a glorious organ. It’s so beautiful.
The drums kick in, and we step into the groove. George’s other-worldly singing is the cherry on top of this birthday cake of a song. So take a piece, but not too much.
This is a euphoric sounding song about euphoric feelings. “It’s all too much for me to take, the love that’s shining all around you.” It’s that feeling when you’re so filled with love, not just love for a person, though that may be involved, but love for life itself, as though every cell of your body is leaping for joy. That’s what this song feels like.
6. Helter Skelter
The Beatles are from the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, but they were very, very, very popular in the United States of America. 1968, when the White Album [with Helter Skelter] was released, was a very, very, very turbulent time for the U.S.A. There were protests and political upheaval and assassinations and racial tensions and riots and a Democratic President stepping down from his re-election campaign. Kinda like now.
So now, in whatever year this is, I listen to this album, with Helter Skelter, and it speaks to me. It speaks to me like no other music ever has, as if the Beatles were singing directly to me. They’ve tapped into my spirit, you know? Like when Paul says “When I get to the bottom, I go back to the top of the slide,” he’s saying that life is a loop, repeating itself, and things are repeating themselves right now.
And when he says, “I’m coming down fast but I’m miles above you,” well, “down” means south, like on a map, so I gotta go to a ranch in southern California. The words Helter Skelter have a criss-cross quality to them. That means I should carve an “X” onto my forehead.
Then there’s “You may be a lover but you ain’t no dancer!” That’s me to a T, whatever that phrase means. I’m not a dancer, I’m a musician! This whole album [and song] is telling me, personally, to make an album that will rock this country. Man, I really need to talk to a record producer in Benedict Canyon.
5. Why Don’t We Do It in the Road?
In the 15th song from the Beatles’ self-titled album, Paul McCartney asks a profound question, “Why don’t we do it in the road?” Most of us enjoy doing it, and we often find ourselves in and around roads. Yet, you’d be hard pressed to find anyone doing it in the road. So why don’t we do it in the road? It seems homo sapiens is the only species that has developed a sense of shame in relation to sex. Monkeys, as the songwriting story goes, saw no issue with doing it in the road.
Paul’s song harkens back to the very first story in the Bible, that of Adam and Eve. Those two ate of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, and their immediate response is to hide in shame and cover their bodies in shame. Perhaps therein lies the answer to Paul’s question. It’s all about the relationship between knowledge and shame. The setting of the song answers itself. The very existence of a road implies some level of intelligence and knowledge. Roads don’t just grow on trees. An intelligent species has to build them. And perhaps any species that develops the intelligence to build roads would inevitably develop the shame to not “do it” in said road.
4. A Day in the Life
All Beatles songs that were written by either Paul McCartney or John Lennon were credited to Lennon/McCartney. Some were written entirely by Lennon, some entirely by McCartney. Others had varying degrees of collaboration between the two. A Day in the Life is a true Lennon/McCartney collaboration and a true masterpiece.
John’s voice has a dreamlike quality to it throughout the whole song. It transports you into a parallel world. You feel like you’re in England, but not our England. England from an alternate dimension. The lyrics are sublime. Every successive word fits perfectly, as if no other word would work. For me, the song evokes both tragedy and detachment. It feels like listening to an impressionist painting, if it could make music.
The building to crescendo just rocks your ears and mind. It’s terror-inducing, nightmarish, as life is. Then, suddenly, you wake up, and you gotta get ready for work. That’s just how it is. John’s part is amazing, Paul’s part is amazing, and this song is a masterpiece of their songwriting partnership.
3. Yesterday
Yesterday refers to the day before today. It denotes the past, an inaccessible, unchangeable realm. We can only contemplate it, we cannot touch it or change it.
Sometimes everything falls apart on a single day. Your life exists in one way, then some single day comes along, out of the blue, out of left field, out of the left field whose grass has been dyed blue, some Kentucky left field. Get it? Bluegrass?
Anyway something comes along out of left Kentucky field and fucks up everything. So you’re just left a shell of who you were, and you don’t even understand why things fell apart, and you’re trying hard to figure it out, but even if you do figure it out, it won’t change the fact that it fell apart, and you’re unbearably desperate to change the past, but you can’t. I mean, that doesn’t really happen to me, per se, because I’m a well-adjusted, content human being, but it could happen to other people, and Paul encapsulates that feeling perfectly.
2. Tomorrow Never Knows
In 1966, the Beatles released this, Revolver, their most accomplished album. I think their undisputed masterpiece is Tomorrow Never Knows, a song so hypnotic, most people probably don’t listen to the lyrics. But they should, because they’re not just about the power of meditation and the importance of love, it’s also a personal statement about the band itself!
1. You Know My Name (Look Up the Number)
I just like the part where they go “you know my name, look up the number.”
0.4 seconds: Derek Fisher
In 2004 Derek Fisher proved that he’s the greatest basketball player in a 0.4 second timespan. In game 5 of the western conference semifinals, Tim Duncan made a long 2 pointer to give the Spurs a 73-72 lead with 0.4 seconds left. Classic early 2000’s Spurs score. The series was tied 2-2, so this was a very pivotal game. Either the Lakers or the Spurs had won all 5 of the post-Bulls-dynasty championships at this point, and they both had a legitimate chance at winning the title in 2004.
After 3 timeouts, 2 substitutions from the Spurs, and different inbound formations from the Lakers, they were finally ready to inbound the ball. Now, the Lakers had 4 all-time great players on the court: Shaquille O’Neal, Kobe Bryant, Karl Malone, and Gary Payton. Throughout the course of their careers, they would combine for 56 all-star selections. Their 5th player was Derek Fisher, a player who amassed 0 all-star selections. And yet, he was the one to rise to the occasion. Payton looked for Kobe, who was double-teamed. A long lob to Shaq seemed improbable, and Karl Malone was just standing around. So Payton threw the ball to Fisher, and in one fluid motion, Derek caught the ball, turned and shot it. The buzzer sounded, the ball went in, the Lakers won the game, and Fisher cemented himself as the greatest basketball player for 0.4 seconds.
1 second: Rasheed Wallace
There are many contenders for the greatest basketball player for one second. Kobe Bryant comes to mind, catching the inbound and making a fadeaway three against the Blazers to win the final game of the season.
My pick is Rasheed Wallace. It was the March 26th, 2007 game between the Denver Nuggets and the Detroit Pistons. The Nuggets were up 3 with the ball out of bounds, at halfcourt, with 1.5 seconds on the clock. That is a very good situation for the Nuggets. What would have to go wrong in order for the Pistons to win this game?
Statistically speaking, NBA teams are extremely good at inbounding the ball safely when they absolutely need to. Teams are usually able to inbound the ball to a good free throw shooter. Good free throw shooters shoot around/above 80% from the line. So either the Pistons would have to immediately foul a Nuggets player, hope that he misses both free throws [4% chance], then get the rebound and throw up a 90 foot prayer at the buzzer, OR they’d have to steal the inbound pass and make a three in one clean motion.
That’s exactly what happened. The inbound pass was tipped, Rasheed Wallace stole the ball beyond half court with 1.0 seconds left, turned and shot from sixty feet away, banking in the 3 to send the game into overtime. A beautiful play. A steal and 3 points in 1 second. That’s impressive. Ball don’t lie!
9 seconds: Reggie Miller
In game 1 of the 1995 eastern conference semifinals, the Knicks had a 105-99 lead over the Pacers with 18.7 seconds left. Mark Jackson passed the ball into Reggie Miller, who immediately launched a three, sinking it with 16.4 seconds left. The Knicks’ Anthony Mason couldn’t find any teammate on the inbound, so he made a weak pass, which was caught by Miller. He raced back behind the three-point line and drilled his second consecutive three, tying the game at 105 with 13.2 seconds left. That’s 6 points in 3.2 seconds, or 1.875 points per second.
Knicks guard John Starks gets fouled on the inbound pass. As commentator Bill Waton noted, there was “no need to foul in that situation,” considering the game was tied. Typically teams will just try to get one last stop.
Anyway, Starks, a 73.7% free throw shooter that season, missed BOTH free throws. That’s great for the Pacers! But then Patrick Ewing, the Knicks’ best player, secured the offensive rebound. He shot it, missed, and Reggie Miller was fouled on the next rebound with 7.5 seconds left. Reggie, an 89.7% free throw shooter, sunk both shots, thus scoring 8 points in 8.9 seconds. The Knicks failed to get a shot off, and the Pacers won the game.
Reggie Miller was the greatest basketball player for 9 seconds.
35 seconds: Tracy McGrady
On December 9th, 2004, the Houston Rockets trailed the prime-Duncan-led Spurs 68 to 76 in the final minute of the game. Another classic 2004 Spurs score. McGrady made a three to cut the deficit to 5 with 35 seconds left. The Rockets intentionally fouled Devin Brown, who made 2 free throws. McGrady then brought the ball up, pump faked, and drew a foul on perennial DPOY candidate Tim Duncan, sinking another three in the process. McGrady completed the 4 point play, making the Rockets’ only free throw in the quarter. The score was now 78-75.
After running some time off the clock, Tim Duncan was finally fouled with 16.2 seconds left. Duncan also made his 2 free throws. After a timeout, the Rockets barely made the inbound into McGrady, who dribbled and drained another contested three over another DPOY candidate, Bruce Bowen.
The Spurs passed the ball into Devin Brown, who fell to the floor, losing the ball. It was picked up by, you guessed it, Tracy McGrady. He dribbled up the court and made, you guessed it, another contested three pointer. The Spurs failed to score in the final seconds, and the Rockets won 81-80.
It was incredible, amazing, phenomenal! It showcased how powerful offense can be. As good and as important as defense is, the best offense just wins. You can never really force a guy to miss a shot. If a guy like T-Mac is just gonna make four three’s in a row, you can’t stop it.
Just for fun, if we extrapolate his 35-second stats to 40 minutes [what McGrady averaged that season], he would score 891 points and grab 68 steals. That’s a good game!
1 quarter: Klay Thompson
The best basketball player in a one-quarter time frame was Klay Thompson on January 23rd, 2015. It was the third quarter of a game between the Golden State Warriors and the Sacramento Kings. Klay went off, to put it mildly. He scored 37 points in the 12 minute period, an NBA record. The man could not miss at all. He made everything. He went 9 for 9 from three point range, which would be an incredible feat for an entire game. He went 13/13 overall from the field and 2/2 from the free throw line.
We talk about players being “in the zone,” and this is the most “in the zone” a player has ever been. If this mystical zone does in fact exist, Klay Thompson has been there, and he’s been there more completely than any other basketball player.
1 game: Wilt Chamberlain
The greatest basketball player over the course of one game was Wilt Chamberlain on March 2nd, 1962. The game took place in Hershey, Pennsylvania between the Philadelphia Warriors and the New York Knicks. The day before the game, Wilt stayed up all night partying with a young woman in New York City, as Wilt is inclined to do. He almost missed the bus to the Hershey Sports Arena, but once he got there, he cemented himself as the greatest basketball player for a single game.
He scored 100 points, shattering his previous record of 78 from earlier that year. That 78 required triple overtime, whereas the 100 was accomplished in regulation.
100-point game doubters/deniers are quickly becoming the most annoying subset of NBA fans. It’s always the same: “we have footage of ____ and not the 100-point game.” There are commenters who believe it’s “insane” that we have a lot of footage of World War II and none of Wilt Chamberlain’s 100-point game. And this is suspicious… somehow. It’s actually a brainless take. Yes, we have footage of the deadliest, most important conflict in the history of humanity, which lasted over five years, but we don’t have footage of a random basketball game in Hershey, Pennsylvania during a time when almost no NBA games were filmed. It’s not crazy at all.
There’s a temporally illogical belief at the core of this, which is that, because the 100-point game is historically significant, it should have been filmed. Yeah, people generally film historic things if we can. But you would only know the game is historic AFTER it happened. It’s not like Wilt went around a week before saying, “Hey by the way guys, next Friday I’m gonna drop a hundred points on those sorry-ass Knicks.” It just happened.
Just think about it for more than five seconds. The game was not in Madison Square Garden. It wasn’t even in the Philadelphia Convention Hall. It was in Hershey, a town 95 miles away from Philadelphia. Why? Because the NBA was so unpopular that they were trying to garner fans from non-major cities. It was towards the end of the season, and the Warriors had no chance of catching the Celtics for the #1 seed, and the Knicks were completely out of the playoff picture. Even for an unpopular league [at the time], it was a particularly unappealing game.
And yet, Wilt Chamberlain was the greatest basketball player for one game, setting the game’s most famous record. It’s certainly Wilt’s most famous one, and ironically it’s one of the more breakable ones for the Big Dipper. No one’s touching 27 RPG, 48.5 MPG, or 50 PPG for a season. But someone could surpass Wilt in a single game.
1 4-round playoff run: Hakeem Olajuwon
In 1994, the Houston Rockets were the 2nd seed in the western conference, so naturally they faced the 7th seed Portland Trail Blazers. Olajuwon led every game in scoring, including a dominant 46-point, 6-block performance in game 2. It perfectly showcased his excellence on both offense and defense. They quickly dispensed with the Blazers.
In the second round, the Rockets faced the Phoenix Suns, led by Charles Barkley. It was a back-and-forth, seven game series between the two contenders. This included a 36-point, 16-rebound, 5-assist, 3-block performance in game 1, and game 7 statline of 37 points, 17 rebounds, 5 assists, and 3 blocks. Amazing stuff. All-around greatness. He helped clinch the series and he proved that he was worthy of that year’s MVP award. I know, it’s a regular season award, but you always like to see the winner do well in the playoffs.
Hakeem continued his dominance in the western conference finals against the Stockton/Malone Jazz. Unsurprisingly, Olajuwon had more amazing performances. It’s easy to just list the statlines again, and they’re remarkable, but you gotta just watch Olajuwon to appreciate his greatness. He had so many post moves, his presence on defense was undeniable, and his basketball I.Q. was top-notch.
In the NBA finals, the Rockets faced off against the New York Knicks. It was one of those finals matchups where the best player on each team played the same position. Patrick Ewing was probably the 4th best center in the league at a time which was rife with great centers. But as the finals played out, it became abundantly clear that Olajuwon was #1, and Ewing was #4.
Hakeem’s averages were fairly comparable to his MVP regular season, but Ewing’s dropped significantly due to Olajuwon’s stifling defense. His scoring fell by 5.6 points per game, and his shooting percentage fell by 13.5% to an abysmal 36.3% from the field. Hakeem Olajuwon was clearly the best player on the court, and proved himself the best basketball player for a four-round playoff run.
Side note: the broadcast of game 5 of the finals series was interrupted by footage of some guy driving a white Ford Bronco down the 405 freeway. Odd.
1 season: Shaquille O’Neal
Many great basketball players have had many great seasons. Even I had a great season in 11th grade. I was awesome out there. It was must-see high school basketball, in my parents’ opinion. But I wasn’t the greatest basketball player for one season. That was Shaquille O’Neal in the 1999-2000 NBA season.
Now am I biased because Shaq is my favorite player and the Lakers are my favorite team and the early 2000s was my favorite era of basketball? No. I’m not biased. I’m the first non-biased, perfectly objective sports opinion writer who’s ever lived. It’s an amazing feeling.
So Shaq was objectively the greatest player for a season. He thoroughly dominated the game of basketball. It was not just that every team knew he was the best player, though that was true. Teams were lost about what to do with him. Should we double team him? Triple team him? Double team him without the ball? Front him? Foul him? How often? There was no true answer because he was just that dominant. That’s why, when we talk about all-time hypothetical matchups between historic teams, or imaginary teams, you always hear the same refrain: who’s guarding Shaq?
Shaq’s dominance culminated on his 28th birthday, when he scored 61 points, grabbed 23 rebounds, and shot 68.6% from the field. It was a joy to watch this season, to watch the greatest basketball player for one season.
5 years: Michael Jordan
Michael Jordan had the greatest 5-year stretch of any basketball player ever. The only challenge is picking between the 88-92 stretch or the 89-93 stretch. In 88, he won MVP and Defensive Player of the Year, but awards are just awards. People vote on them. They’re not handed down by God on stone tablets. We often use NBA awards to boost our arguments, then disparage the awards/voters when we don’t like them. When Kareem has 6 MVP’s, that makes him the greatest center, but when Shaq and Kobe only have 1 MVP each, that means that the awards and voters are stupid. It’s awesome.
Anyway, from the 1988/89 season through the 1992/93 season, Michael Jordan was the greatest basketball player over a five year period. He led the NBA every one of those years in win shares, VORP, and PER, if you care about those things. He also led the league every year in points per game, which is a much more understandable statistic. A player plays a certain number of games, they score a certain number of points, then you take the points and divide that number by the number of games. There you go!
Late 80s/early 90s Michael Jordan had an incredible combination of skill and athleticism. He would fly through the air. He would make acrobatic, contested layups. He had the midrange. He led the league in steals per game in two of those years. His first step was lethal. His competitive drive was legendary, as we all know. He took things PERSONALLY. It’s an interesting quality because, in general, if someone takes everything very personally and gets offended by incredibly minor things, that’s not typically considered to be a good quality. In fact, it’s often considered to a non-masculine quality. BUT if you then kick everyone’s ass at basketball, it cancels out.
And of course the Jordan-led Bulls won 3 straight NBA championships, and he gave three of the greatest finals performances ever. In 91, he averaged 31.2 points and 11.4 assists per game which is just absurd. Only Magic Johnson has ever had more assists per game in a finals series. It’s crazy to think about, considering how many great point guards/passers/assist-getters have played in the finals. Magic has the highest six spots, then the scorer Michael Jordan, not Isiah Thomas or Bob Cousy or Oscar Robertson or Walt Frazier or John Stockton or Jason Kidd or Lebron James or Chris Paul. Wild.
In 92, he torched Drexler in the head-to-head matchup, and in 93, he set the still-standing finals record for points per game with 41. The three-peat was complete with MJ earning the finals MVP each time, obviously. He only won the regular season MVP twice in this five year period, but he was the best basketball player in the world throughout the entire five-year period. The NBA MVP award is a strange one.
Oh yeah, he also won an Olympic gold medal as the leader of the Dream Team [though Barkley did lead the team in points per game]. They totally dominated the international competition, winning by an average of 43.75 points over the course of their 8 games.
MJ had the prolific scoring, the amazing defense, the dominant playoff performances, great handles, great finishing, and great passing when he needed to. He had the greatest 5 years of basketball.
1 lifetime: Lebron James
Lebron James was born in Akron, Ohio, just outside of Cleveland, on December 30th, 1984. That was just a few days after Michael Jordan torched the Cleveland Cavaliers for 45 points. Not sure why I bring that up. It’s not like the two players need to be compared incessantly. They’re just two NBA players among many. We can compare and contrast any of them.
Anyway, as Lebron began his high school basketball career, quickly became a phenom, a savant, a wunderkind of basketball. At the time, there were some straight-outta-high-school players who were achieving success in the NBA, notably Kobe Bryant and Kevin Garnett. It’s been speculated that Lebron may have been the #1 overall pick after his junior year of high school. Junior year! I was in some middle school “competitive” leagues back then and we all talked about him like we were fantasy RPG characters in a small town waiting for the hero to come and fulfill the prophecy. Sports Illustrated even crowned him the “Chosen One” in February of 2002. That was when he was a 17 year-old JUNIOR in high school. There was so much hype. The best NBA players in the world, like Shaquille O’Neal, were attending Lebron’s high school games.
He entered the league as the #1 pick for the hometown Cleveland Cavaliers. He and Carmelo Anthony both won the rookie of the month award every month for their respective conferences, and Lebron won the rookie of the year. He quickly became one of the game’s best players, and came in 2nd place in the highly contested 2006 MVP race. In 2007, at 22 years old, he put on a masterful performance against the mighty, defense-oriented Pistons. He was totally unstoppable, scoring 25 straight Cavalier points in the 4th quarter and overtime, making a game-tying dunk to send the game into another overtime and a game-winning layup in the second overtime period.
Lebron’s first stint in Cleveland was characterized by his incredible, Herculean efforts with a subpar supporting cast. The Cavs were never able to secure a true co-star for him. Even the big names they did sign [like Shaquille O’Neal and Ben Wallace] were well past their prime. It’s almost like great NBA players don’t really want to live/play in Cleveland, Ohio.
Speaking of which, Lebron left Cleveland, Ohio with 2 MVP’s under his belt and headed to Miami. There he won 2 more MVP’s, 2 championships, and 2 Finals MVP’s. His 2013 season was one of the best ever, a perfect mix of athleticism, IQ, and skill. Upon his return to Cleveland, fans, players, and analysts began to ask, “How long can he keep playing at an elite level?” and they’re still asking that 10 years later.
Anyway, in 2015, he had yet another great season. This time he was teamed up with Kyrie Irving and Kevin Love. Both were better teammates than he ever had in his first stint in Cleveland. Naturally, they did pretty well in the playoffs. Unfortunately, in game 4 of a 1st-round sweep, Celtics forward Kelly Olynyk hooked Love’s arm and ripped out his shoulder. In game 1 of the finals against the Warriors, Kyrie Irving suffered a fractured kneecap and was ruled out for the rest of the series. Not great. The Warriors won the series, but Lebron did receive some votes for finals MVP.
Lebron had another great season in 2016, with similar stats to his 2015 campaign. The Cavs swept the Pistons, then swept the Hawks. In the conference finals, the Cavs beat the Toronto Raptors, which was very common in Lebron’s second stint in Cleveland. As we all know, they faced the Warriors in the finals again. That Warriors team had just won 73 out of 82 games [an NBA record], they had the only unanimous MVP, Steph Curry, and they were considered one of the greatest teams of all time. Predictably, the Warriors went up 3-1 in the series.
No team had ever come back from a 3-1 deficit in the NBA finals. Teams in that situation were 0-32 at that point. It seemed incredibly unlikely that the first such comeback would be against a 73-9 team with the unanimous MVP and 2 games at home. Yet, in game 5, Lebron scored 41 points on 53% shooting, grabbed 16 boards, dished 7 assists, got 3 steals and 3 blocks in a do-or-die situation. But hey, Draymond Green was suspended [that’s what Draymond Green does], so that probably won’t happen in game 6 right? Actually it was the same story. James had another 41-point night, with 8 rebounds, 11 assists, 4 steals and 3 blocks, on 59% shooting. And in game 7, among other things, Lebron had the greatest, most clutch block in the history of basketball, preventing an Andre Iguodala layup. The Cavs completed the comeback, and Lebron led both teams in all 5 major statistical categories. He proved that, even though he wasn’t the MVP, he was still the best basketball player on the planet, which happened with several MVP winners.
As we all know, Kevin Durant joined that 73-9 Warriors team in the off-season, creating the greatest “super team” of all time. The two teams met up in the finals the next 2 years, with Lebron producing some of the greatest finals averages ever, but falling to the overpowered Warriors. One stat that encapsulates these finals is that in game 3 of the 2017 finals, Lebron James played 46 minutes. In those 46 minutes, the Cavs outscored the Warriors by 7 points. In the 2 minutes that Lebron was on the bench, the Cavs were outscored by 12, ultimately losing the game by 5.
During his time with the Lakers, Lebron has experienced a slow but steady decline. He’s still an elite player, but not quite as good as he was in 2013, which is 11 years ago now. That being said, his longevity is unprecedented. His scoring at 39 is way above anyone else at 39. His scoring in his 21st season is miles ahead of anyone else in their 21st season. He became the 2nd oldest finals MVP in 2020. Lebron is the NBA’s all-time leading scorer and the only player to score 40,000 points in the NBA. Lebron’s basketball career speaks for itself.
But wait a minute… he kinda sucked in the 2011 Finals. Remember that? You know what, never mind. The greatest basketball player for a lifetime is actually Kareem Abdul-Jabbar.
Lefty Forrester