There were so many stories birthed from the amazing Celtics/Bulls series. The emergence of Rondo and Rose -- who look like the East's version of Chris Paul/Deron Williams. Kendrick Perkins, Glen Davis, Joakim Noah and John Salmons growing into much more than fourth or fifth bananas. Ray Allen carving his name alongside the all-time best shooters in NBA history. The Paul Pierce twilight years. And a seemingly endless number of overtimes, thrilling plays and clutch shots.
But most interesting was the play of Ben Gordon. How he represents everything we love, admire and appreciate about the NBA, while embodying everything we loathe, decry and hate about it. All at the same time, even in the same few minutes.
Gordon has one elite basketball skill -- scoring points. He can do it in bunches, from anywhere on the court, at any moment. He is a pure shooting guard in that he is a guard that shoots. He was arguably the second most important player for Chicago in the series, carrying the scoring load with little sense of pressure most mortals feel.
Everyone who is an NBA fan likes scoring. Sure, a block or charge is great, but we'd all rather see 105-104 games than 84-85 games. We also love players who put up gawdy scoring numbers. You even get a title for doing it the most.
Ben Gordon gives us that. See his 42 point outburst in game two. He puts up such absurd shots, it appears at times he could not care less about things like balance or double teams -- and it's great. None of us can sink one-footed, 19-foot jumpers with a hand in our face. Ben Gordon is an elite scorer, at times, unstoppable. He is a rookie poker player in a professional tournament -- unpredictable, making decisions seemingly at random and taking risks no pro would take. And dangerous as hell.
But Ben Gordon gives new meaning to the term "volume shooter." Gordon took 134 shots in seven games, over 19 per game. His point totals will often match his shot attempts. His 33 in game 7? Took 23 shots, making seven. His 26? 21 shots, making six. These are not exactly efficient numbers.
Look at the man Gordon played against much of this series and one similar in style, Ray Allen. Allen is "the best pure shooter ever," a shooting guard with range, a quick trigger and fearlessness. But Allen will never be accused of being a bad teammate. His scoring comes in the natural flow of the game. If he scores six going 2-14 and they win, great. If he's hot, teammates know to find him.
Allen only took more than 20 shots once in the seven games series, when he took 32, scoring 51. Gordon took 20 shots four times. Allen is the type of scorer we
really like. Efficient, with high percentages and happy to shoot ten times as he is shooting 30 times. But he's boring.
Gordon is a selfish player. The kind of teammate we would like to play with in a pickup game for a while because he can score and you may be winning, but then quickly realize the game has turned into "three dribbles and a miss while we stand around." We are always taught passing is the best thing you can do in basketball. Pass, and good things will happen. This was shown even in this series, as Rose and Rondo constantly deferred to (marginally worse) teammates for easy scores.
But not Gordon. The dark side of Gordon is he will only give you that one thing, that dizzying ability to put the ball in the basket. His defense is mediocre to bad. His passing, nearly nonexistent. Rebounding? Forget it. But damn can he score.
Ben Gordon is what's wrong with the NBA today. A league fill of "me-first" stars who just want to score and get on the highlight reel. The guys who grab their balls in victory. The guys who jack up 20-foot turn around jumpers with 18 seconds left on the shot clock. The guys who don't play defense or pass the ball.
Ben Gordon is what's right with the NBA today. The best athletes in the world competing on a plane that we can never reach. Nailing three-point daggers as the game clock ticks down. Scoring 30, 40, 50 points almost at will. Catching fire and becoming an unstoppable force of nature.
As the TNT post-game show was running highlights of game seven, the indomitable Sir Charles was opining about how you cannot win with those types of shots, the kind Gordon was taking all game. And he's right. Ben Gordon was the reason the Bulls lost game seven. But he is also the reason there was a game seven.
Ben Gordon is flawed perfection. He's a green poker player in room full of vets. He's Kimbo Slice fighting MMA. He's that kid at your rec league you've nicknamed The Black Hole. He's everything we hate and love about the NBA.
