With Summer League over, I thought it might not be a bad idea to take a look at some of the big winners and losers from the three week series of exhibitions. Then I thought it might be a bad idea if people read this and begin ranking their rosters according to player output in July. Then I remembered that I only have two readers and my parents don’t start ranking their players until mid-August. So we’re good.

Take everything with a grain of salt. This is pre-season exhibition hoops starring the youngest players in the league … and J.R. Smith, who was just bored, I guess. This is a movie trailer, not the whole feature film. This isn’t even the normal trailer studios release six weeks before the film opens, this is the trailer they release a year in advance to alert you they’ve just started shooting the film. Seriously, don’t start standing in line for a movie that is nowhere near being released.

W I N N E R S

John Wall, WAS Led the league in points, assists and was second in steals, despite shooting .377 from the floor. The Great Wall of Chinatown’s performance is less noteworthy than that of his teammate, JaVale McGee. Epic Vale shot nearly 69 percent from the floor while averaging the league’s fourth most points and rebounds over five games. A John Wall that makes other Wizards better is a more dangerous John Wall than previously anticipated.

Armon Johnson, POR Finished in the top 10 in minutes played (4th), assists (10th) and steals (9th). What’s it get him? Well, if the Blazers eschew Rudy Fernandez and Patty Mills continues doing whatever Patty Mills did last year, Armon becomes their mon in Portland … right after Brandon Roy and Wesley Matthews.

DeMarcus Cousins, SAC He double-doubled in each of his four games. And managed not to break things, throw things, whine at things, ignore things, or exhibit any of the characteristics that made him drop from the No.2 pick in the draft to No.5. If Wall is a 40th-60th pick in the draft, assume Cousins won’t be far behind.

Pooh Jeter, CLE I’m pulling for this guy to get some burn if for no other reason than the prospect of a guy named Pooh and a guy named Boobie together in the Cavs backcourt at some point this season.

Jeff Teague, ATL Found himself in the top 16 in points, assists and minutes played. Teague’ll play more than last season, but not more than Mike Bibby. Meanwhle the rest of the Hawks will do everything they can to help Bibby fall down a staircase here or a black ice patch there. You know – whatever.

Dominique Jones, DAL Mavericks coach Rick Carlisle said this about his rookie guard: “Dominique has a great knack for finding the crevasses, creating space, getting the contact, and finishing …” This quote sounds like it came from a man who could use a little more attention from Mrs. Carlisle.

DeMar DeRozan, TOR Had the third-highest ppg average in the entire summer league and the highest point-per-minute average. And this is how you know the summer league is fluky.

Derrick Caracter, LAL I toyed with the idea of giving Derricter an early nickname  after he averaged 15 and 9 in the summer league, but thought better of it. As this is the only time you’ll hear from the guy for the rest of the season, it seemed disrespectful to rob the man of his name. Like when Muhammad Ali called everyone “killer” or John Wayne called everyone “sport” because they couldn’t remember or never knew anyone’s actual name. Or like how my father only refers to me as “You Again.”

Larry Sanders, MIL Not much to speak about on offense, but he led the summer league with 3.2 blocks per game and grabbed a flock of rebounds (8.4 rbd). What does one call a group of rebounds? A pride? A school? A throng? Add that to the list of things Sanders can think about while cooling his jets on Milwaukee’s bench all season.

L O S E R S

Rodrigue Beaubois, DAL An ankle tweak slowed him down, as did learning to lead the point. If Beaubois means “attractive wood,” his summer league was more of a “mochebois.” Google it.

Evan Turner, PHI His threes were off, his twos were off, his drives were off, his shot was off. Just off. Like a camper near a buggy bayou – just full of off.

Eric Bledsoe, LAC Led the summer league in minutes played, but barely cracked the top 20 in assists (17) and steals (18). A perfect replacement for Baron Davis, indeed.

Voigt was never a threat to win this 20-stage race. He wasn’t even a threat to win one of its 20 stages. He was so far behind when his front tire exploded, in fact, that no one in charge of helping him was even aware what happened.

And that is why this story involves a child’s bicycle.

Most of the time, when a cyclist wrecks his bike that bad and there is no team car with a spare bike to replace it, a “broom wagon” comes in to relieve him. This relief, of course, comes with an elimination from the Tour de France. Voigt had faced a similar elimination last year after a bike wreck ended his race before he reached Paris. He recalled later that it was going to take a lot more than a busted tire, broken spokes, a wobbly frame, aching calves, taunting crowds, sweltering heat, flashes of Tyler Durden out of the corner of his eye, “California Gurls” on an inescapable loop in his brain and a sweaty bike seat (probably) to stop him.

From Velonation:

Voigt’s bike was totaled. “The frame was broken, the derailleur was broken, the front wheel was broken – there was nothing you could fix there anymore. I think there is this children’s program where they do part of the Tour de France stages. One of those cars came by and they gave me one of their bikes.”

The bike was painted yellow and equipped with good old fashioned toe clips. “It was way too small for me, it didn’t fit with my pedal system and it didn’t really work the way I wanted it to work,” Voigt said. “But it was something to move and I took the chance.”

Voigt ended up riding a children’s Huffy somewhere between 15-20 kilometers (9-12 miles).

If I’ve learned anything from MarioKart Wii, when riding a severely undersized bike, all one has to do is lift the front wheel of that bike to gain additional boosts of speed for short periods of time. I haven’t seen video of the incident (all the media cameras were further on up the road with the competitors), but I’m pretty sure he didn’t pop wheelies on the little yellow bike. He did, however, exchange the kid’s bike for a proper replacement after Voigt’s manager discovered what happened and sent a police officer to hand over a new one as soon as he could.

Some might suggest 15-20 kilometers on a kid’s bike – 0r any bike – isn’t that far and therefore not that difficult, but a) this is the Tour de France, and nothing is easy, b) people who say that probably don’t know how long 20 kilometers is and c) there’s no c – unless you thought of something that I didn’t think of. In that case, consider whatever it is you just thought up to be c.

Voigt finished more than 30 minutes behind the stage leader, which is, um, not good. But considering what it took for him to finish, it’s kind of awesome. No one can tell Voigt he doesn’t have drive.

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Look, Lopez went down in April 2009 with a nasty back injury that more or less hampered him the remainder of that season and laid him low again in April and May 2010. Don’t scoff at back injuries either. The back is the window to the soul – assuming you’ve misplaced your soul. And even with a misplaced soul, it’s clear Lopez is developing. In just one season, Lopez jumped from a player efficiency of 12 to an 18 PER (15 is average, 20 puts you in the league’s top 30). Despite missing the last two months of his rookie season, Fro-pez’s ORtg jumped from 112 in 2009 to 123 in 2010 (107 is the league average).

So, yeah. You want him rested. Let ‘im take as many laps in the lazy river as he wants because the Suns are going to need him, his back and his silly hair to be ready come Opening Day. They’re gonna need that back issue to … well, to not be an issue. They’re gonna need him to play more than 60 games, more than 19 minutes in those games and reach the line plenty of times while ticking off those minutes. From a fantasy perspective, he’s going to need to do all the grinding, thumping big man stuff that Amar’e Stoudemire was supposed to do (but often shied away from doing). He’ll certainly get the minutes to do all that bumpin’ and grinding (eww), but if I may pull on the reigns a bit, his back hasn’t been proven to be a thing of the past yet. Don’t pass up good backs for bad backs. Or baby backs. Or greenbacks. But if Sideshow Rob is still available in the last third of your draft – pounce.

It’ll be the Lopez Show at times for the Suns, which might cause some immigration problems down in Phoenix, but none for your team. 32 mpg / .570 / .720 / 0.0 / 15.1 pts / 8.0 rbd / 0.6 ast / 0.5 stl / 1.8 blk / 2.0 tov

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Photo courtesy of Yahoo! Sports via Getty Images

Penn State instituted a tradition in which 107,000 fans all agreed to show up at Beaver Stadium for one highly anticipated game each season clad top-to-tail in white. All white. Then they called the place the White House because Penn’s marketing people are paid to be clever like that. At least that’s what I assume they’re supposed to do. I don’t think we see eye-to-eye on it.

The tradition started in 2007 when Notre Dame arrived in University Park. The White House Game continued in ’08 with Illinois and last year against Iowa. Ticket holders for the September 25 game against Temple noticed a message that said “Everyone wear white.” Considering this is well past Labor Day and a fashion faux pas in most contexts, it’s safe to assume the ticket was referring to that game being this season’s White House Game. Nah.

“The White House is a tradition that everyone can agree should be saved for only certain games and certain opponents,” Paternoville Coordination Committee President Alex Cohen wrote in a text.

Suck on that, Michigan. Not only Michigan, but Michigan State should suck on it. And, of course, Temple too. But mostly Michigan. None of them are worthy of a White House Game distinction, despite the White House Game tradition only being three years old and hardly a tradition yet (especially if they skip it this year). The bruised and broken Wolverines program just announced that it spent $226 million in renovations that, among other things, gives Michigan’s Big House the largest capacity in all college football, replacing who? Why, Penn State’s Beaver Stadium, of course.

Are you telling me Penn State can’t leverage this to create a frenzied atmosphere in a game that might not otherwise have one (relatively speaking, of course. This is still Penn State)? Here, try: “109,901 screaming Wolverines ain’t nothin’ but white noise. Show ‘em how it’s done, Lions.”

See? That’s not bad for a a hopelessly drunk guy giving it six seconds worth of thought. Notice how I made it “‘em” instead of “them?” That was for the kids. They love that stuff. Or how about this? The Michigan-Penn State game is the day before Halloween. Can’t we work in a reference to “white as a ghost” or something? C’mon, Penn. You now have the second-biggest stadium in the nation and the people that lowered you to that distinction are visiting you the day before Halloween! You can’t make an event out of that, but you’re willing to host your next White House Game against ‘Bama on the 10th anniversary of the 9-11 terrorist attacks? Good luck with that.

I can understand not hosting another White House Game if people were complaining that all the white was somehow bothersome:
…’Cause this is how Klan rallies get started.
…’Cause the albinos are beginning to stir.
…’Cause this is literally the only way Pennsylvanians could get an whiter.

I could keep going, but I won’t. All I’m sayin–

‘Cause such a concentration of white lions in one habitat is unnatural!

… Sorry. I thought I had tucked that one away. Won’t happen again.

The truth is, college kids don’t need a reason to … well, to do anything as a huge group. Tell ‘em to wear white, they’ll do it. They’ll do it awesomely. This is like “Iron Man 2″ leaving $100 million in box office grosses on the table by not going 3-D. It’s your funeral. Enjoy getting smacked by “Alice in Wonderland,” a movie which I believe was shot in the extra space created by Michigan’s Big House renovations.

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Photos courtesy of Flickr

From left: Cook, Favre, Werder (I swear this was the coolest picture of Werder I could find)

How do you prefer your Band-Aid removed? With a quick, painful jerk that uproots body hair along with it? The kind that provides an agony that is much worse in the seconds leading up to the removal than the removal itself? Or do you prefer the cautious, calculated removal that distributes pain in measured doses for an elongated period of time? Because I assure you America, you’re gonna have to suffer through one.

LeBron James’ decision to play for the Heat? We may still be talking about it … okay, I. I may still be talking about it. But, really, it’s over. He’s a Heat. (A Hot? A Heats? No, he’s a Heat.) James isn’t forcing us to discuss it. Matter fact, I bet he’d love us to stop. That Band-Aid got yanked two weeks ago, the pain should be long gone. Brett Favre? He never wants anything to stop. Ever. He pulls the bandage 1/3 off, then re-applies the pulled part just so he can do it again. Forever.

As much as I’m angry with James and have decided to stop returning his phone calls for a little while, I’d prefer his shenanigans to Favre’s, who, once again is kinda, sorta hurt and kinda, sorta not sure his old man bones have it in them to play football again. And he’s kinda, sorta not sure when he will know, so just keep checking in periodically* to see if he’s made a decision.

* once per hour … forever.

This is the fourth year the man who’s won only one more Super Bowl than I have has spent his summer playing catch in Mississippi in front of an ESPN camera. And I’m bored. And you’re bored too. And a little hungry, which is bound to happen when you skip lunch, you workaholic, you. But you know who’s more than bored? Favre’s agent James “Bus” Cook.

From the newest issue of Men’s Journal :

(I should warn you, Cook’s language is a little blue, so be sure to cover your children’s ears as they read this.)

“Brett talked to goddamned Ed Werder at ESPN, says he needs ankle surgery. Now why did he do that?” Cook asked.  “I’ve got [Brad] Childress calling. I’ve got reporters calling all damn morning. Goddammit, why does he have to be such a goddamned drama queen? Play, don’t play, goddamn, people are getting sick of it. I’m getting sick of it!

Why does he have to talk to these people? What good does it do? Ed Werder at ESPN! What’s he ever done for anybody other than say, ‘Look, look, Mommy, I got this first, ain’t I special?’ You got problems with surgery, talk to your wife. Why talk to goddamned Ed Werder?”

Eat it, Werder.

You know, if you’ve been paying attention (pay attention!) you’ll notice the common thread with Favre and James is one World Wide Leader in Sports. If ESPN would stop hiding the the bushes of every superstar with a decision to make, maybe we wouldn’t be forced to choose between pulling off the first-aid bandage strip quickly or slowly. Maybe the entire world would simply be able to take a dip in the pool and let the soaking bandage un-affix itself and lie at the bottom of the shallow end. Wouldn’t that be nice?

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Photos courtesy of Flickr

Tiago Splitter

Unless you spell it “Dunkin.”

What I’m saying is, I don’t really need to run down Splitter’s splits in the Spanish league. You know he’s that league’s reigning MVP and his name is Tiago Splitter.

Okay, perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to know that the guy San Antonio has been trying to bring over here for three years is here and will jump right into his rookie year in the NBA either playing alongside Duncan at PF or backing him up with DeJuan Blair filling the four. People felt Blair was a nice late pick last year, but feared his knees wouldn’t hold up to a full NBA season (he played all 82 games). Splitter comes with more promise and fewer concerns than DeJuan. Considering Splitter’s polished game (aside from an overly physical tendency that might land him in foul trouble) and Duncan’s minutes steadily declining in each of his last five seasons, this guy is primed for a surprising season that should come out of nowhere for a lot of fantasy owners. Don’t be one of ‘em. Remember the name: Tiago Splitter.  25.3 mpg / .515 / .770 / 0.0 3ptm / 11.1 pts / 6.6 rbd/ 1.6 ast / 0.9 stl / 0.7 blk / 1.6 tov

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Photo courtesy of Yahoo! Sports via the AP

The 20 ppg player will net your team 1,300 points by the end of the season. The 17 ppg player will net you 1,360. While I wouldn’t base my entire draft around guys who make it into the game all 82 games a season, it’s worth noting, especially if those players play more than 24 minutes each time out. I selected any player that averaged more than 24 mpg in each of the last three seasons and played in at least 80 games twice during that time.

There were 12 players who played in at least 80 games in each of the last three seasons:

Andre Miller If he was drafted at all last season, he was drafted to be the third-string PG on most fantasy teams (most fantasy teams with a chance of winning anyway), sometime after round 10. Kevin Martin was taken with the 20-30th picks of most drafts. Between those two players, which player scored, stole, rebounded, assisted and blocked more than the other? Yup. It should also be mentioned that Miller’s total stats were in the ballpark of Chris Paul at season’s end too. When a guy misses only five games in 11 seasons, never having played fewer than 80, he doesn’t need to be the best guy out there in order to produce as much as the best guys out there.

Derek Fisher Fisher’s age made me surprised how reliable he’s been. He hasn’t missed a game in five seasons, though there were a few times there I’m pretty sure Phil Jackson threw some sunglasses on the unconscious body of an elderly Fisher and Weekend At Bernie-d him during a game or two to keep Jordan Farmar from playing more than 30 minutes.

Andre Iguodala If you go back even farther than three years you’d see he started the first two seasons playing 82 games in each. Then he missed six games in 2006-07 and was dead to Philadelphians everywhere.

Samuel Dalembert Dalembert hasn’t missed a game in four seasons, which is made even more impressive considering he spent the first two months of 2010 traveling to his native Haiti to assist with disaster relief on his off days.

Emeka Okafor After missing 28 percent of his first three seasons, it still feels like Big Mek is oft-injured. What’s a guy gotta do to off that reputation? Or oft that reputation?

The next tier belong to sophomores who have not yet missed a pro game, but have only been in the league two seasons:

The third tier belongs to the remaining six players who have played in 80 games in two of their last three seasons while making it to at least 70 games in the third season. All of the players on these three lists averaged at least 24 minutes per game in each season.

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The Cubs, under new management, have been abysmal in 2010. How abysmal? So abysmal I bothered to look up “abysmal” to ensure I was spelling it correctly. The team’s grandest pick-up in the offseason was Texas’ former hitting coach (Chicago is hitting a 21st-ranked .257 as a team this season). They’ve got the third largest payroll in baseball behind the Yankees and Red Sox and three of their four best players this season have been Marlon Byrd, Tyler Colvin and Carlos Silva – none of whom play everyday. It’s abysmal enough that Lou Piniella’s most embarrassing attribute is no longer his old man gut. I mean, look at this picture above. Sweet Jesus, Sweet Lou – try an occasional salad.

I went to my first Cubs game on August 24, 1983 (an almost no-hitter thrown by Chuck Rainey against the Reds) and hundreds since then. I’ve watched thousands more on TV and miraculously, even a few playoff series, but I can’t stand this Cubs team. Can’t stand its attitude and can’t stand another season of losing. I’ve been in the gang for almost 30 years now and I’m considering getting jumped out of it. Blood in, homey. Blood out.

This isn’t about what team I should start following now (although your suggestions in the comments will be considered), this is about severing ties officially. And properly. And if at all possible, appropriately.

Below are 50 Ways To Leave Your Lover 10 ways to end long-standing loyalties to a franchise. Hop on the bus, Gus – we need to discuss much.

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10. Choose your new favorite team, wait for them to play your old favorite team, go to the game, loudly root for your new favorite team.
This one is cold. It takes gator blood to pull off, but if you do it, no one can question a) your seriousness or b) your decisiveness.  Non-sport equivalent: Convincing your girlfriend to bring her sister to the movies with you so she doesn’t sit at home by herself on a Friday night, only to make out with the sister during the movie while your (former) girlfriend is put in charge of refilling the popcorn.

9. Only draft players from your old favorite team to your fantasy team.
If you want to ensure you’ll never enjoy anything about your old favorite team ever again, synchronize their success with the success of your fantasy team. You’ll not only despise the real-life jerks underperforming on the club, but you’ll despise the stupid team you’ve built, the stupid friends in the fantasy league you’re in and the stupid stupids who invented fantasy sports in the first place.

8. Type “I love the  ____________ [your old favorite team] on your Facebook profile.
If there is any place more mean and snarky than the online gamers playing “Call of Duty,” it might just be the comments following someone’s super-positive status update on Facebook. So if you wanna feel real bad about liking a team, just tell your 658 Fakebook friends how great a baserunner you think Ryan Theriot is. You’ll be taken down quite a few pegs.

7. Heckle a player all game long.
About 10 years ago I found myself at a Louisville Bats (former Riverbats) triple-A game in Louisville, KY. Deion Sanders was there recovering from an injury and playing the outfield. There weren’t many people in the stands that day so we we free to roam whatever section we pleased. And we pleased to follow Neon Deion around for the seven innings he played that night. First we were in left-center, then we went over to the third base line and yelled into the dugout. And while I don’t remember what I was drunkenly slurring at him that night, I specifically recall thinking that I can never root for Sanders in anything he does from now on. Not after this. Not now. I had effectively projected King Midas’ touch onto Sanders, except that instead of gold, everything Sanders touched turned into something to which I was disinterested in paying attention.

6. Choose a player from your former favorite team who just left the team – become a fan of that player.
This is the coward’s way out. This is like rooting for the Bulls until Michael Jordan became a Wizard. Then rooting for the Wizards because you’re more of a Jordan fan than a Bulls fan. Then buying a Kwame Brown jersey after Jordan retired. This is like hanging out more and more with your buddy instead of your girlfriend until one day – surprise! – you announce you’re gay.

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5. Go ahead and bet a substantial amount of  money that your former favorite team will go all the way this year.
‘Cause let’s face it, they’re not going to win. No chance. If there were a chance, you’d still be a fan. But there isn’t a chance. And you betting that there is will make you feel stupid and angry. Why did you just put the money you were saving to buy CSI:Miami – the Complete Series on the Redskins to win it all this year? That’s not going to happen and now you’ll never have all of David Caruso’s wacky puns at your fingertips. Way to go, boner! The only thing you’ll hate more than yourself is the stupid Redskins for not winning the stupid Super Bowl, again! You’ll ignore that team as much as you would a thick girl with a bad personality.

Then again if they win, you’re rich and will probably rethink changing loyalties. Win-win!

4. Give your old team’s apparel to the most annoying kid on your block.
This is all about severing ties, not creating bonds. That’s why you don’t give your old ball cap or your hockey jersey to your sister’s newborn or your cousins toddler. In theory, you like those people and if they like your old favorite team, you’ll never be able to completely turn your back on the franchise. That’s why you find the friendless LARPer desperate for someone – anyone – to pay attention to him. Hand him your Dolphins jersey or your Habs hat and watch him light up. Then watch him go overboard trying to show his new best friend how big a fan he is. Every time you see your team’s colors, you’ll enter a Pavlovian state of annoyance in no time.

3. Wear another team’s apparel when you go out.
In the end, no one really knows what teams you follow in the privacy of your own home. And most bars play multiple games at one time. We are defined by who we wear, Gucci, so use that knowledge accordingly. If you’re meeting a buddy’s friend from out-of-town – wear your Lions hat. Even if you were silent all night, you’ll be remembered as “that Lions fan I met that one time.” St. Paddy’s Day at O’Houlihan’s? Wear all green … and an Avalanche hat. You’ll show up in pictures as the “guy wearing MOSTLY green.” These things define you. Let other people do the work for you. If you want to go from a Giants to a Jets fan (why anyone would want to do that is beyond me), just show up to a few bar crawls in a Jets hat all of a sudden. See how quickly you aren’t defined as a Jet-setter.

2. If you don’t think you’re going to marry the person you’re dating – start attending a bunch of games together.
It’s a tale as old as time, right? “I can’t listen to that song without thinking of her.” “We always used to eat there together.” “Every time we spelunked in that cave, we got attacked by bats.” Common stuff like that. Also common in many relationships is that moment of realization that the relationship just isn’t working. For most people, the realizationis quick, but the action that follows is slow and painful. Awful, really. “We can’t break up over Christmas.” “We can’t break up on Valentine’s Day.” “But Pulaski Day is our special day!” Add your favorite team’s season to that list and take your significant other to as many games as possible. Make it a thing you do – together. That way, when it ends, you won’t be able to oogle Laker Girls without tearing up a little. Not because you’re heartbroken, but because you’re disappointed you wasted so much time on the relationship. Then it’s just a matter of time before you find some other set of cheerleaders to oogle.

1. Google “celebrity _________ [your former favorite team] fans”.
Try it. You’ll run screaming from your computer. They’ll be nothing left from a team that interests you once you see the awful celebrities that love what you once loved. Rod Blagojevich, really? Jim Belushi? Gary Sinise? Pat Sajak? This blows. At least the White Sox have Obama.

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Photos courtesy of Flickr

Ever since the epic exodus of Zydrunas Ilgauskas from the Cavaliers, it’s been almost entirely forgotten that Cleveland still has a few players remaining on its roster. And because Big Z is no longer on the team averaging tons of points and tons of minutes, the good news for fantasy owners is that the leftovers are all likely to produce more. We might never have had a Steve Young if Joe Montana hadn’t missed the entire ’91 season. We might never have had Harrison Ford if Kurt Russell had been cast as Han Solo. And we might never get to see J.J. Hickson‘s 15/7 season if Ilgauskas hadn’t singularly broken the hearts of Ohioans (Ohioates? Ohiomans? Ohiomies?) by moving to Miami. What a bastard. Seriously, have you talked to a Cavs fan lately? They’re so mishugenuh about losing Z that everytime I’ve mentioned to one of them how hard it must be root for a Ilgauskas-less Cavs team, they look at me as if I’m both stupid and missing some larger picture that I’m sure I’m not missing.

Double-J improved steadily, if not loudly, in his sophomore season, starting 73 of the 81 games he played. And while he only played 21 minutes and fought for his touches while on the floor (earning only an 18.9 USG% last season), he was a defensive force and an offensive weapon when given the chance. A guy who can navigate through Shaquille O’Neal, Z, Anderson Varejao and the addition of Antawn Jamison 2/3 of the way through the season while generally improving is a guy set to break out with far fewer obstacles in his way the following season. New coach Byron Scott has already hinted at bringing Jamison off the bench and Juicy-Juice’s 24/7 summer league averages aren’t doing anything to make him re-think this stance. Even if Jamison does start and Hickson is the first off the bench, he’ll own that Sixth Man role and he’ll have center eligibility to go with it. Watch him make Cleveland forget all about … Zydrunas Ilgauskas. 30.3 min / .624 / .691 / 0.0 3pt / 14.6 pts / 7.2 rbd / 1.3 ast / 0.8 stl / 0.8 blk / 1.5 tov

Prokhorov was going to change the Nets. He was going to bring LeBron aboard (strike one), along with another big free agent (strike two, unless Jordan Farmar is considered big – which he is not) and he was going to create a playoff-worthy team in 2011 that would win a championship by 2015 (probably strike three). And he made Nets fans confident that it would happen. Then it didn’t and what is happening in New Jersey makes the back of my eyeballs hurt.

Anthony Morrow as your team’s biggest acquisition will do that to eyeballs. This isn’t to say Anthony Morrow isn’t a good acquisition – he is. It is. They both is. Whatever. Bone Morrow is capable of giving fantasy owners 15 points and 2-3 treys a night. But he won’t. Not this year. Not this team. Not playing the 27-30 minutes a game he’ll manage to steal from sophomore Terrence Williams and third-year Courtney Lee. Morrow has the highest upside of this trio. Williams is the most likely to develop more of a small forward’s game and Lee is the best defender. But anything Lee can do Morrow can do better is the tune I’d sing if Annie got her gun, stuck it to my head and told me sing her a story.

You’re all into musical theater, right?

There’s worth here. And there. And right there. No, not there. That’s Johan Petro. Behind him. There. But come draft day, I’d wait to grab Lee three or four rounds later than when it feels right or not at all until the picture becomes clearer in Mudville. 31 mpg / .440 / .855 / 0.9 3pt / 11.5 pts / 2.8 rbd / 2.2 ast / 1.0 stl / 0.4 blk / 2.0 tov

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