Everything you never wanted to know about the NBA

This week, I sat down with JBorhood regular, Matt Kolsky, the new PR Director and TV color commentator for the Bakersfield Jam, the NBA D-League team you've undoubtably read about on Deadspin.com(Read more here). We discussed the NBA Trade Deadline, the outlook for the 2010 free agent class, and whether anyone can derail the impending Lakers-Cavs NBA Finals.

So sit back, relax, and crack open a frosty horchata...

JBorhood Podcast - 2/26/2010

The Annual Super Bowl Prognostication Extravaganza 2010

When I was growing up, my life revolved around Michael Jordan and the Chicago Bulls. (To be fair, I was only ten when the Bulls won their first title, so beer, breasts, and XBox Live hadn’t entered the picture yet.) I only wore Michael Jordan shoes; I let my tongue hang out when I played basketball; I memorized all the words to the “Be Like Mike” song; I literally thought I was Michael Jordan’s younger, whiter, clumsier, less athletically gifted, little brother from another mother. Basically, Michael Jordan without the height, strength, jump shot, vertical leap, lock down defensive ability or any discernible talent whatsoever. But if the NBA awarded points for recklessly traveling while flailing your limbs and haphazardly throwing your body into other players like a blind chicken with octopus arms (aside from the 2006 NBA Finals, of course), I’d be putting the finishing touches on my Hall-of-Fame career right now.

As the Bulls laid waste to the league in the 90’s – rattling off 6 straight titles (the two non-Jordan years never happened, just like MJ’s supposed comeback with the Wizards never happened) and winning an NBA record 72 games in a season – and Michael cemented his legacy as the most gifted player ever, I lived vicariously through the Bulls and enjoyed the finest period in my history as a sports fan. I watched the greatest player ever lead the greatest team ever and dominate the league so thoroughly that, by the end, even his early detractors could no longer deny their respect for him. On a nightly basis, no matter what you were doing, if Michael Jordan was playing, you canceled your plans. You never knew when he was going to do something you’d never seen before and might never see again.

Jordan didn’t make baskets.

Jordan made history.

I frequently curse my father for bestowing his hopeless love of Chicago sports on me, but truthfully, no amount of heartbreak can diminish the thrill of a decade’s worth of memories, cheering on the greatest player who ever lived. A lifetime of Eddy Currys, Rex Grossmans, Neifi Perezs, Cade McNowns, Dalibor Bagarics, Corey Pattersons, and, dare I say it, Voldermorts (a.k.a Steve “He who shall not be named” Bartman) are worth the pleasure of having watched MJ transcend greatness.

Now, history is repeating itself, and no one is talking about it.

So, lest you take it for granted, I implore you to watch every minute of tomorrow's Super Bowl and savor every second Peyton Manning has the football, because you might never see someone that good, that talented, and that driven take the field ever again. He is reinventing the position of Quarterback and making history with every dropback, every audible, and every touchdown. And whether you eat, sleep, and breathe football or the only football game you watch every year is the Super Bowl (and only for the commercials), you need to watch tomorrow's game and appreciate the display of football at its highest level.

The Colts might not win, in fact, I think the game will be a lot closer than most people are saying, but I guarantee you that Peyton Manning will put on a show for the ages. And maybe that's the crux of the issue. Football is a team sport in the truest sense. One person, no matter how special, does not make a great team. Peyton Manning doesn't play defense; he doesn't catch the football; he can't block for himself. He needs 21 other teammates on offense and defense (and that's discounting special teams and substitutes, aspects of the game the JBorhood often finds undervalued) playing at an extremely high level to win tomorrow's game. On the flip side, Michael Jordan played both ends of the court and only relied on four other teammates at a time to win. Even in baseball, one or two pitchers can single-handedly win a World Series (*cough* *cough* 2001 Diamondbacks *cough* *cough*). But in football, a quarterback can only do so much, which explains why Manning has avoided the level of attention his game deserves.

You know he's incredible. You know he's got a laser rocket arm. You know he's one of the best Quarterback's playing right now.

But you might not know that he's the greatest Quarterback to ever play the game, and I think that's a shame.

So, rather than getting up to use the bathroom during the game like you usually do to avoid missing the Super Bowl commercials, wait until the Saints have the ball or, better yet, pee in an empty beer bottle or plastic beer bottle lying around (Your friends will understand. It's Peyton Manning.). But, whatever you do, don't miss a second of Peyton Manning.

Football doesn't get any better.

In 2006, it was The Ex-Girlfriends Bowl.
In 2007, it was The "It's about more then just the Quarterback" Bowl.
In 2008, it was The Destiny Bowl.
In 2009, it was The "And Pornography Will Save Us All" Bowl.

This year, I'm proud to present the "It's actually just about the Quarterback" Bowl.

Game Breakdown:

I'll save you a long winded breakdown, because I don't think this game needs one.

Both teams feature explosive offenses and fast, undersized defenses. The Saints rely on creativity and mis-direction and the Colts rely on execution and, well, Peyton Manning. The key to slowing down (because, really, you can't stop either one) both teams is to get pressure on the Quarterback. If you only watch one thing on Sunday, watch the offensive lines. As long as they can prevent defenders from running unbated to their Quarterback, their offenses will shine. If either team's line struggles, their team will struggle too.

But I don't think either line will struggle. I think we'll see an entertaining, back and forth game where the team with the ball at the end will win.

But in an even game, I think the advantage goes to the best player. Not just the best player in the game, or the best player this season, but maybe the best player ever.

I think this game will be won by Peyton Manning and we'll look back and remember it as the moment he became the greatest to ever play the game.

(Just remember who told you.)

[Author's Note: Take heart, Saints fans. I've incorrectly predicted the outcome of the Super Bowl for four straight years, so you can probably start celebrating now.]

The Naked Running Experiment

I'm not a runner, never been one.

I've done my fair share of running, but generally as the by product of a physical activity that didn't make me want to hurl myself into oncoming traffic out of sheer boredom. Running was for the kids in high school who weren't big enough to play football, tall enough to play basketball, or European enough to play soccer. (You could always tell who the soccer players were in High School because they spent an extra twenty minutes in the locker room quaffing their hair. To this day, I firmly believe that soccer has an unwritten rule that secretly benefits players with immaculate locks). Runners were the unusually peppy kids who wore shirts with sayings like "I Run for Fun" that they pretended were funny in an ironic way, but we knew were funny in an I-can't-believe-someone-would-want-to-broadcast-the-fact-that-they've-never-gotten-laid-so-clearly way.

So I assure you, when I woke up this morning, embarking on a month long running experiment was not on my to do list.

(In case you're wondering, this morning my to do list consisted of:

Wear sweatpants til noon (mission accomplished. God bless working from home.). Brew a cup of coffee that I could drink without gagging (close enough). Post a funny Facebook status update ("Do Apple Stores include an edgy facial hair requirement into their employment contracts?" Boo-yah!). Learn to divide by zero (sadly, this feat continues to elude me).

Hey three out of four ain't bad...)

But this morning, an article caught my eye: "Running Shoes May Cause Damage to Knees, Hips and Ankles, New Study Suggests" (http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2010/01/100104122310.htm). According to the study, modern running shoes cause a 36% increase in knee flexion torque, a 38% increase in knee varus torque, and a whopping 54% increase in hip internal rotation torque.

My first thought: "What the hell is knee flexion torque?"

My second thought: "What the hell is knee varus torque?"

My third thought: "I really wish I had paid attention in Science class."

Specific stress effects aside, the study laid out a clear case that modern running shoes alter people's natural running motion, which leads to increased stress on ankles, knees, and hips and a higher incidence of injury.

In other words, the three hundred dollar, ultra-cushioned, kinetically-based, heavily-researched, heavily-marketed, super-shoe not only fails to provide the advertised protective benefits, it actually hurts you.
Simply put, everything we know about running is wrong.

Wow.

You might not find that interesting, but it gives me a raging geek boner. It is totally counter intuitive. My entire life, I've watched a series of commercials telling me that I wanted, nay, needed, the newest Nike Super Air Angelic Majestic Wonder of Hosts 4000 Plus to protect my helpless feet, cushion my frail knee joints, and strengthen my natural running motion. Now I find out, the best thing I could have done for said helpless feet, frail knee joints, and woeful natural running motion is to set those shoes on fire.

I'll say it again, wow.

Now, I'm a naturally skeptical person, so I typed "Barefoot Running" into Google to find out if other research, articles, or opinions backed up the findings. Bam! 438,000 results, including recent in-depth articles from Wired Magazine and the New York Times extolling the virtues of barefoot running and its role in restoring a human's natural gait.

http://www.wired.com/wiredscience/2009/07/barefoot/

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/27/health/27well.html?_r=2

According to the recent research, modern running shoes encourage bad running habits. Rather than the more natural motion of landing on the mid-sole or ball of your foot, which naturally absorbs the shock while the foot rotates forward, heavily padded running shoes encourage you to land squarely on your heel, sending the full force of impact directly into your ankle, knee, and hips.

Maybe it was the freedom of wearing only sweatpants (one of the many positive externalities of working from home), maybe it was the after-effects of slugging down two cups of borderline gag-inducing coffee, maybe it was the smug sense of hipster satisfaction from leaving my witty Facebook message, maybe it was frustration stemming from my continued inability to divide by zero, but for some reason, I decided that I needed to answer the barefoot running question once and for all, the only conclusive way I knew how...

By testing it on myself.

The Goal: Run ten miles barefoot, pain free.
The Subject: Me
The Stakes: The health and well being of my feet, knees, and hips.

I fully believe that this will be the precursor to an in-depth article about micro-fracture knee surgery, but at this point, it's ten miles or bust.

Wish me luck, JBorhood.

(On a related note, you can send all donations to the Future Justin D'Olier Knee Surgery Fund to 555 ThisShouldBeAsFunnyAsItIsCrazy Lane, Honolulu HI, 96800)

Day 1 (Wed, 1/5): Short loop around the block ~ 1/4 mile.

The pads of my feet are a little sore, but otherwise not too bad. The biggest issue is how strange it feels to run barefoot, like something is missing. (You mean like your shoes?!?!!? Hey, settle down.)


Day 2 (Thu, 1/6): Run around Kahala Mall ~ 1/2 mile

I can't shake the feeling that I'm running naked, or that my car broke down at the beach and I'm running to the gas station. People give me some long awkward gazes, like my fly is down or something.

The pads of my feet are still tender and I experienced some mild soreness at the top of my left shin under my knee that worried me, but it completely dissipated after a couple minutes. I think the pain is due to the increased reliance on the front leg muscles to help cushion the impact of my foot, but I'll closely monitor the situation to make sure it doesn't develop into a serious knee injury. The fact that I am a human guinea pig has begun to sink in.

Overall, I feel fantastic after the run, aside from having dirty feet and feeling like a total loser, or course...


Day 3 (Fri, 1/7): Run to the intersection of Kilauea and Hunakai and back ~ One mile.

Good Lord, this city needs to pave its roads. For the most part, running along the sidewalk or main thoroughfares of Kahala has been surprisingly easy on the soles. But the worn down, gravely asphalt on the side streets is murder on the instep. The combination of the uneven surface, occasional razor sharp patch of crumbling rocks, and random tiny rock that embeds itself into the space between your toes is almost as embarrassing as the dismissive glance from the hot girl running by who instantly assumes you're some quixotic hippie who feels that running shoes inhibit your chi from connecting to Mother Gaia. I considered making a shirt that says "I'm only running barefoot because it's been scientifically proven to cause less stress on your joints" before realizing that it would only make things worse.

As for my feet, the pain in the ball has increased a bit as the skin slowly adapts to life sans shoes, but the soreness subsided fairly quickly after the run and left only mild warmth twenty minutes after the run. The mild pain under my shin transformed into a fairly acute muscle ache during the run, but it feels less like a shin splint, and more like my left calf is cussing me out for my bizarre quarter life crisis decision to run without footwear. I think my shin has a point.

Overall, I feel great and remain surprised at the lack of soreness.


Day 4 (Wed, 1/13): Run to intersection of Kilauea and Hunakai and back ~ One mile

Today I stepped on my first rock. And my second rock. And my first thorn. Not coincidentally, today was the first day I wished I was wearing shoes.

I'm not sure if I can describe quite how jarring, landing on the sharp point of a cracked piece of concrete can be to the natural flow of a run. Imagine you woke up early and went to 24 Hour Fitness for a pre-work workout. You were tired at first, but after the flirty conversation with the cute girl in the running shorts and a sports bra on the elliptical trainer and a few laps in the pool you feel refreshed and invigorated. You head over to Starbucks and on the way help a little old lady cross the street and climb a tree to get a little girl's kitten. Upon opening the door to Starbucks, you see the hot girl from the gym in line (what are the chances?) and strike up another five minutes of witty banter while sharing a laugh that you both love grande iced coffees with a shot of hazelnut syrup (OMG!). You offer to pick up the tab for her only to discover that she's already paid for you and slips you her phone number. Your head is spinning and you feel lighter than air, trying to remember if you've ever had a better morning. You decide it's a close second to the time the Andrews twins from next door invited you to go skinny dipping by the lake, but agree that today is in the top five, no question. The barista calls your order and hands you your cool, iced beverage. You take a sip and let the calming caffeinated rush surge through your veins, when all of a sudden, the hot girl slaps you in the face, throws her coffee on you, and jams a large sharp piece of concrete directly into your heel.

It felt something like that.

But mind-numbing heel pain aside, the run was actually a fairly pleasant experience. For the first time, I had stretches where I forgot I wasn't wearing running shoes and ran relaxed, comfortable, and free. My feet felt better than they have since I started running sans footwear and aside from some minor lingering soreness on the pads of my feet, I am completely pain-free.

Also, the evidence is completely anecdotal, but judging from the smiles I got from a pair of seventeen-year-old girls, the barefoot running trend is well received by the younger generation.

In summary, foot pain bad, Lolita factor good.

For the sake of my marriage, let's diplomatically say the jury's still out.


Day 5 (Fri, 1/15): Run to park at the bottom of KCC and back ~ 2 miles

Honolulu... we have a problem.

After an initial period of pain-free running, I have developed my first physical impediment to the barefoot running experiment: blisters.

Well, not blisters per se, more like pre-blisters. Not even pre-blisters, really, since neither the physical formation of tender protrusions, nor the retention of fluid under the skin, has begun. But a latent soreness that suggests the barbarians are at the gate. Blister foreshadowing, if you will.

I noticed the soreness after my third run (the reason for the recent drawn out interludes between runs). It took me this long to write about it because I generally write each article as soon as I finish running and the soreness doesn't appear until about 30 minutes after each run. The discomfort is most prominent on the outside of my left ring toe (After a five minute mental debate about how best to describe this toe, since toes apparently lack the basic flange nomenclature ascribed to fingers, I decided to apply the finger naming system to toes. For the record, this description barely edged "the toe next to the pinky toe" and "the piggy who was denied the pleasure of enjoying his friend's roast beef". I thought you needed to know.) and the front inside and outside circumference of the balls of my feet.

The blister foreshadowing feels like a mild heat under the skin and is somewhat sensitive to the touch. It does not impede my ability to walk, nor does it particularly hurt. I don't even notice it while running. After 24 hours, the sensation completely disappears, but it reappears after every run and worsens if I run on back to back days.

I want to continue running on a regular basis, but do not, under any circumstances, want to develop blisters. I fear blisters. In fact, I am deathly afraid of blisters. I feel about blisters the way Andy Bernard feels about nipple chaffage. Which leads to my current existential crisis.

Do I wear shoes while my feet heal and potentially violate the moral integrity of my barefoot running experiment?

Do I stagger my runs, unnecessarily drawing out the experiment and potentially masking some of the stress effects of running without footwear?

Do I stop acting like a Nancy-boy about my princess feet, eat a raw steak, grow a beard, kill a deer with my bare hands (sorry, got carried away with hyperbole) and run through the pain, at risk of developing blisters?

At this point, the only thing I'm sure of is that this experiment has provided ample writing material and minimal structural fatigue or soreness.

Never a dull moment in the JBorhood.


Day 6 (Tue, 1/19): Run to park at the bottom of KCC and back ~ 2 miles

I don't like running. In fact, I hate it. It is boring, monotonous, and frivolous. If I'm going to move my legs for an hour, I'd far rather play basketball or soccer. Running is everything bad about sports, without any of the pay off. It's like prepping for a four course meal without ever cooking or eating it.

When I started this barefoot running experiment it had nothing to do a love of running. I was immensely attracted to the concept of an area of physical activity where the scientific research suggested a vastly different optimization strategy than common knowledge. Testing the effects of barefoot running on myself sounded like an engaging intellectual activity and a perfect subject for the JBorhood.

A science experiment (with jokes).

But experiments require impartiality and the more I run barefoot, the less impartial I become.

Because I like running barefoot. I like it a lot.

I like how easy it is to get ready.

Step 1: Find a pair of pants.
Step 2: Run.

I like the feeling of the pavement under my feet.

I like how I've begun to use my entire foot, each toe hitting the pavement and springing my leg forward.

At first, running barefoot felt like the first week at a nudist colony. Nervous. Self-conscious. Constantly afraid of exhibiting my excess enthusiasm. Now, I enjoy the sensation. I feel more comfortable and fully engaged with every part of my running motion.

I like being naked.

I'm no longer simply interested in whether or not barefoot running will work. I want it to work. I want barefoot running to win.

Because of that, I think I've sugar coated some of the problems so far. Barefoot running hasn't been quite as easy, simple, and problem free as I've conveyed it and I want to take the opportunity to discuss all of its pitfalls.

1. Stepping on rocks sucks and it happens a lot.

I probably step on two or three rocks every mile and each one hurts. They hurt to varying degrees, nine times out of ten times they don't even slow me down, but it always hurts and it always sucks.

2. The soreness in my shin/lower knee persists.

I still think that the soreness in my left leg is a muscle ache that occurs because of the increased reliance on the foot and leg to cushion the impact of running, but I feel some tightness in my shin every time I run. The soreness has markedly decreased and I believe it will go away, but it's only fair to report that it still exists.

3. Crossing bumpy asphalt is more than mildly unpleasant

Back roads and side streets that lack basic level upkeep rank somewhere between a nuisance and the bane of my barefoot running existence. I take the manly approach and suck it up and act like it doesn't hurt when I run over them, but it does. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go grunt, drink a beer and blow stuff up.

4. People give you funny looks

Maybe my research will help barefoot running spring into mainstream culture, but judging from the bizarre looks I get from people (which range from "silly-hippie-dismissal" to "omg-let’s-all-point-at-that-that-bizarre-new-age-Quasimodo-and-laugh"), it still has a long way to go.

Ok, now you know the rest of the story. Barefoot running has still been an overwhelmingly positive experience and I look forward to continuing my research, but it's not all a bed of roses.

Now, forget I told you all of that and get out there and run naked!


Day 7 (Wed, 1/20): 30 minutes on the elliptical trainer

Because of the threatening blisters and the rain, I did 30 minutes of interval training in shoes on the elliptical trainer at the James today (the James, in case your wondering, is what most people refer to as "the Gym", but we're not that friendly). Even though I wasn't running, working out in footwear felt a little bit like going to the strip club after getting in a fight with my girlfriend. Worse still, I jogged for five minutes back to my apartment, which felt like getting a strippers phone number at the club. Later that evening, I walked my dog in slippers, which felt like... you know, I think it's time to put this metaphor to rest.

I just hope my feet forgive me.


Day 8 (Sat, 1/23): Run to park at the bottom of KCC and back ~ 2 miles

It was bound to happen at some point.

I’m still getting used to the naked-in-church feeling of barefoot running, so up until now I’ve taken great lengths to avoid running into anyone that I know. The only person I’ve allowed to accompany me is my pit-bull Sophie; as far as she’s concerned, I could run in a giant yellow chicken suit as long as I put out a bowl of food and water for her when we got home. Actually, scratch that. Even Sophie wouldn’t run with me if I wore a giant yellow chicken suit. She has standards (unlike her master).

Anyway, as Sophie and I bounded down Kilauea Avenue, I noticed two on-coming joggers slow down, exchange a few words, and give us a somewhat lengthy stare. I’ve gotten used to strange looks at this point, but this one was even more prolonged than usual. I wasn’t wearing glasses, so the fact that these people looked incredible familiar didn’t sink in until it was too late.

My friend’s mom: Oh, hi, Justin! We were wondering who that strange guy running without shoes was.

My friend’s sister: Yeah, we didn’t recognize you without your hair (note: I recently shaved my head. The whole naked running process is starting to invade all aspects of my life)… or your shoes [cracks a half smile].

After a somewhat embarrassed, stumbling explanation about the origin and science behind my barefoot running experiment, my friend’s Mom and sister seemed vaguely impressed and interested. I actually felt pretty good about the whole encounter when they wished me good luck and told me to keep them updated.

I ran the next 10 minutes with my head held high and a little zip in my step.
Then I passed a hippie couple with waist-length dreadlocks who gave me a long, bizarre, head-tilted gaze and whispered something inaudible to each other while I passed.

That’s right. Even the hippies think I’m weird.

*sigh*