Alan Truex: Harden is ruthless, brash, disrespectful — the ideal MVP
James Harden shook the basketball world last week with swagger of the sort the Houston Rockets’ guard has not shown before. Off the court, he dismissed a question about Detroit star Blake Griffin with “Who’s that?” On the court, he faked the LA Clippers’ Wes Johnson to the floor and gloated about it.
To be honest, an elbow jab – too subtle for a ref to punish – was a factor in the dismantling crossover witnessed by a national network (ESPN) audience. It’s the most celebrated play of the basketball season so far.
As Johnson sprawled and flailed helplessly on his home court, Harden leisurely retraced his steps and stood at the 3-point arc. Had he wanted to, he had enough time to comb his beard before he launched, still uncontested by the Clippers lolling on a cruise.
“I was just trying to figure out what he was doing,” Harden said of the prolonged staredown. The debilitating move “has been in my bag all year. I had to make him dance a little bit.” He enjoyed watching his victim suffer, like an Old West gunslinger might have done.
Bill Plaschke, who writes for The Los Angeles Times and speaks on ESPN’s Around the Horn, thought Harden was overly theatrical – “took his hand off the ball and put it back on.”
Standing up for his homeboys, Plaschke said Harden “was very disrespectful . . . Wesley Johnson is a professional who works just as hard as him. You beat him on a play, OK, good. But don’t rub his face in it.”
Hey, you be the judge. Click here for the video.
But I think Clinton Yates, a panelist on the same show, was right in arguing that Harden did what a basketball superstar should do: humiliate his opponent. Johnson, who, granted, is a fringe player, was all but undressed by Harden.
“If you don’t like this play, I can’t understand how you like NBA basketball,” Yates said. “We talk about their personalities. We talk about the things they do. Harden is the best player in the NBA right now. He hit him with a stop. Beeped him. And made the shot.”
What distinguishes basketball from other team sports is the dazzle an individual can display. You occasionally see this in an overpowering pitcher or a zoned-in hockey goaltender fending off an endless barrage.
But in the NBA, magicians perform every night, impossibly gifted athletes not just physically dominating but psychologically so.
Basketball has a culture of swagger, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. The boasting serves an unselfish purpose, soothing the frayed nerves of less confident teammates. When LeBron James declared during a postseason Final, “I’m the best player in basketball,” everyone on his team was glad to hear it.
Bill Russell was praised for his candor when he said: “I revolutionized the game.” Michael Jordan was considered generous when he thanked “my supporting cast.” Can you imagine Tom Brady or Aaron Rodgers saying those words? They would be chastised for their arrogance.
Basketball is a team game, but more often it’s one on one. At times it can seem like one against five.
And by the way, NBA smack is not a black thing. I covered All-Star Weekend when Larry Bird walked into the locker room before the 3-point contest and asked: “Which one of you guys is finishing second?”
Of course Bird finished first, and it wasn’t even close.
Harden is perfectly acting the part of Most Valuable Player, brash and all but unbeatable, and letting the world know it. His confidence is spreading to the rest of the team.
“This is the deepest team I’ve ever seen,” said 7-year veteran P. J. Tucker, who’s one of 10 Rockets averaging more than 20 minutes. When they won their 15th consecutive game Saturday, their leading scorer was Eric Gordon with 29 off the bench. The dropoff from All-Stars Harden and Chris Paul to third guard Gordon is not enormous.
Mike D’Antoni is a master of matchups and is the likely Coach of the Year with an offense that moves fast and scores from everywhere. And the Rockets are playing defense in the paint and on the perimeter, which they forgot to do in prior years.
“There aren’t many innovators in coaching,” said Golden State Warriors coach Steve Kerr. “Mike is one of those innovators. He’s changed the way everybody else thinks.”
D’Antoni developed his system in Italy. The analytics-obsessed general manager Daryl Morey provided the pieces to make it work in Houston.
The Rockets have nudged aside the defending champion Warriors as the league’s most dominant team, at least at the moment. Not that the championship is a foregone conclusion, even as the increasingly talkative Harden trumpets his “team of destiny.”
The perennial Warriors, with long-range artillery from Steph Curry, Kevin Durant and Klay Thompson, can be as visually splendid as the Rockets going off.
Talk about swagger: Curry firing from the arc, turning his back as soon as the ball leaves his hand. Not the slightest worry that it clangs off the rim and he looks like a presumptuous fool.
Yet for all their splashy marksmanship, the Warriors are unfocused at times, as Kerr has lamented. Draymond Green is a defensive monster but also a technical foul waiting to erupt. Kerr himself is hardly a model of composure. The Warriors are spotty on defense, and their bench is not nearly as sturdy as Houston’s.
The Rockets are playing with more passion and more poise. Is there too much swagger? There is a danger of that. But I’ve long believed that in all sports, more games are lost by athletes with too little confidence than too much.